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Quite the spectacle

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John Blaich

On Feb. 2, 1976, exactly 27 years ago Sunday night, in a dense

fog, the motor ship Coos Bay ran aground on the Balboa Peninsula at

Island Avenue.

The former World War II landing ship tank was coming up the coast

to San Pedro. She barely missed the Balboa Pier before running

aground about 10 p.m., just after high tide. The ship was broad side

to the beach with the bow pointing slightly seaward.

The shipwreck was first observed by a Newport Beach Police unit,

who reported the incident to the Orange County Harbor Department,

which reported it to the Coast Guard at Long Beach. Within an hour of

the Coos Bay’s hitting the beach, she was boarded by a team of U.S.

Customs officers, who were transported to the shipwreck by a Harbor

Department launch that was equipped with radar.

Lifeguards and police officers were stationed on the beach to

prevent anyone from leaving the ship. This led to rumors that the

Coos Bay was carrying marijuana or other contraband.

But Ray Spencer, a U.S. Customs supervisor out of Los Angeles,

said that the inspection was routine in such incidents and that no

contraband was found on board. Spencer said that it was routine for

Customs agents to inspect a vessel in trouble before it reached its

destination. The Coos Bay was scheduled to clear customs on Monday at

Los Angeles Harbor, but she spent Monday hard aground on the Balboa

Peninsula.

Word spread quickly about the shipwreck. All day Monday, there was

a large crowd of people out on the sand to take a look at the Coos

Bay. Many business people took an extra long lunch hour.

The incident turned into the social event of the season on the

Balboa Peninsula as hundreds of residents and business people flocked

to the beach throughout the day to watch the salvage operation. Even

classes from nearby Newport Elementary School marched down the beach

to witness the operation.

At 4:38 p.m. Monday, when there was a minus 1.5 low tide, people

could walk up and touch the sides of the Coos Bay. Fortunately,

during the period of the shipwreck, there was no wind, and the surf

was low -- surges in and out with an occasional 1-foot high breaker.

A Jacobs ladder, or rope ladder, was lowered from the deck of the

Coos Bay. Some of the crew came down the ladder and, using shovels,

dug the sand away from the ship’s rudder and propeller.

By midafternoon, the salvage tugboat Sea Otter, a Red Stack Co.

tugboat, arrived from San Pedro with Capt. Johnny Banks in charge. A

large wire-towing cable was attached to the port bow of the Coos Bay.

About 600 feet of cable was paid out so that the tugboat was

operating in deep water. A strain was maintained on the towline by

running the tugboat engines slow ahead.

The grounded freighter, Coos Bay, was en route to the Port of Los

Angeles from San Juan, Puerto Rico. She was cruising light, as she

had no cargo.

The vessel was owned by the Tieasa Corporation, a freight firm

headed by Dan Wirth of Laguna Beach. Coos Bay was skippered by Capt.

Fred Stabbert of Long Beach and carried a crew of 27.

There were no reported injuries, and the crew remained on board.

I first heard about the shipwreck when I returned home from work

in Los Angeles. After a quick supper, I hurried over to the Peninsula

from our Bayshore home -- though I had a hard time finding a place to

park -- and walked out on the sand and there was the shipwreck. There

must have been more than a hundred other people there waiting to see

what was going to happen next.

It was a very dark night. You could see the white lights on the

Coast Guard Cutter Point Divide, which was anchored off shore. A

Harbor Department boat was also out there, as was the tugboat “Sea

Otter,” whose diesel engines were idling away to keep tension on the

towline.

The Harbor Department pickup truck was parked out on the sand.

They maintained radio contact with the ships off shore. Walkie

talkies were not readily available at that time. Finally, I sat down

on the sand, bundled up inside my Navy Pea Jacket to see what was

going to happen next.

At about 8:30 p.m., an hour before high tide, the diesel engines

on board the tugboat revved up and began to labor. The tugboat was

pulling at an angle of about 20 degrees off the port bow of the Coos

Bay.

Capt. Banks on the tugboat changed his course to pull at right

angle to Coos Bay. This was done to twist the keel of Coos Bay so as

to break the suction between the keel and the sand.

Shortly after the tugboat resumed pulling in the original

direction, her diesel engines were laboring hard. Sitting there on

the sand, I was watching a white light attached to the deckhouse of

Coos Bay. I suddenly realized that it had moved a bit to my right,

then it moved more to my right, then it moved faster and Coos Bay

broke free.

She was towed well off shore in deep water, where she was left for

a complete hull inspection. No major damage was found. So Coos Bay

proceeded under her own power, in company with the tugboat Sea Otter,

to Los Angeles Harbor.

Come daylight on Tuesday morning, the only evidence of a shipwreck

were the thousands of footprints in the sand made by the many people

who walked out to see the shipwreck. These footprints did not last

long as the next winter windstorm leveled the sand.

Most of the information for this story was obtained from articles

appearing in the Daily Pilot on Feb. 2 and 3, 1976, written by my

dear friend and shipmate Almon Lockabey, the Daily Pilot boating

editor. “Al” Lockabey was a good sailor and a gentleman. He passed

away on in January 1995.

* JOHN BLAICH is a Corona del Mar resident and volunteer at the

Newport Harbor Nautical Museum. About once a month, he writes

histories of interesting boats that graced Newport Harbor.

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