WRITTEN BY PAUL DORPAT

IVAR HAGLUND

	JEAN SHERRARD
	Right of center in both scenes, the Smith Tower is the only local landmark that is easily traced from the "then" to the "now." The historical photographer looks south from the Port of Seattle's original Bell Street Terminal across the length of the temporarily sunken steamship Admiral Watson to an old pier that once paralleled the shoreline because Elliott Bay was too deep at that point to build out into it.

The Watson's master, Capt. M.M. Jensen, saved the ship from slipping into the unusually deep water there by quickly ordering its stern lines cast off and its bowlines winched to pull the ship closer to shore. Hundreds of locals that day caught trolleys and jitneys to visit the sunken Admiral — or at least the top of the steamship so recently refurbished that it was known as the "yacht of the Admiral Line."

Launched back East in 1901, the Watson was brought around in 1905 and worked the West Coast until it was sold to Japanese ship-breakers in 1934. Except for this 1915 accident and a temporary stranding in 1910 off Neah Bay, the Admiral Watson — with its 135 first-class accommodations, six deluxe suites and 150 beds in steerage — was a very safe and serviceable passenger steamer.

Its greatest encounter was with the legendary "giant seagull" off Willapa Bay. The famous bird landed on the Watson's wireless antenna when the ship was transmitting the latest ball scores. Instantly electrocuted, the gull fell to the deck. The sailors quickly measured its wingspan at 6 feet 3 inches tip to tip, and its weight at 28 pounds. For 20 years sailors had reported on the tinkling-bell sound the giant made as it circled their ships, and the source for this mysterious music was revealed with the bird's demise. Attached to one of its legs was a silver band and to the band a metal tag. The band was inscribed "Ship Granite State Liverpool, 1889," and the tag, "Mail to Astor House, New York." (To learn more, see H.W. McCurdy's "Marine History of the Pacific Northwest.")