An Early History of the National Maritime Historical Society and the Kaiulani Project: Part 1 by Alan D. Hutchison t was a clear, bright, sunny day in September 1963, one of those special summer days peculiar to San Francisco. The sailing ship Balciutha was rolling gently at her old berth on the San Francisco waterfront. I was on the West Coast handling some legal matters for my law firm in Washington DC. The Balcfutha was of special interest to me, since my law firm represented the Washington Waterfront Development Company, and I was directly involved in the planning of the proposed Maine Avenue Washington DC waterfront. It seemed to be shaping up as some sort of riverfront mall, and I suggested the need of an historic sailing ship to give it a proper "salty" flavor, "j ust like San Francisco!" I asked a maintenance man on the Balciutha who was in charge of the ship, and he directed me to Karl Kortum at the San Francisco Maritime Museum. I walked alon g Fis herman's Wharf to the old WPA building converted into a maritime museum. At the museum I was sent to the top floor and entered an open spacious room with a panoramic view of San Francisco Bay. Beh ind a cluttered desk sat a big man with grizzled hair and broad hands like a seaman. I knew nothing about Kortum or the marvelous work he had done in saving the Balcfutha and organizing the museum. I presented my business card to Kortum and told him about the waterfront project in Washington and my quest for an historic sailing ship . If Kortum was am used with my ignorance, he didn't show it. Instead he produced a massive photo album and told me there was only one ship lefr in the entire world worthy of being in the nation's capital: the bark Kaiulani, the only surviving American-b uilt squarerigged merchant ship left in this world. There were two square-rigged naval vessels and a square-rigged whaler, but this was the on ly sailing merchant ship! The photo album contained wonderful black-andwhite photographs taken aboard the Kaiulani by Kortum himself in 1941 when she sailed from San Francisco to Grays Harbor to pick up a cargo oflumber and then on to Durban, South Africa.
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Kortum told me the story of the bark and then showed me recent photographs taken by a US merchant marine captain of the Kaiulani in the Philippines serving as a lumber barge under tow. Kortum told me it was my mission to rescue the Kaiulani, refit her as a sailing vessel and sail her to Washington, where she would become a national monument. I left the maritime museum in the fading light of late afternoon and said I would be in touch. No papers, no agreement, just my business card and a handshake and he turned the precious photo book and the Kaiulani over to me ... a 32-year-old Washington international tradelawyer. Flying back to Washington that night I had roman tic visions of the Kaiulani, but how do you get started on a project like this? Back at the office I had a brainstorm and called an acquaintance at the Washington Post and told him about the Kaiulani. He called me back later and asked me to come over at the end of the day with Kortum's photographs to show to the editor of the Posts Sunday supp lement, Potomac. The editor was obviously a square-rigger buff, because within a month the Washington Post Potomac ran a co lorized version of one of Kortum 's photos on the front cover, along with an article I had written about the Kaiulani. There was a small box on the upper corner of one page which stated if you were interested in supporting the restoration of the bark to write to the Committee for the Preservation of the Kaiulani, with my law firm's address. My senior law partner, Jim Sharp, was thrilled with the idea of the Kaiulani on the Washington waterfront and went along with using the firm as headquarters for the Committee. The article produced an avalanche of calls and letters from interested parties, including Captain Fred Sable, an 81-yearold master mariner who not only had square-rigger experience, but had spent most of his career in the Far East, ending up as the first and only American to head the Chinese Customs Service. We discovered the log barge Kaiulani was owned by the Madrigal Shipping Company of Manila and that the owner of the firm, Tony Mad-
rigal, was a graduate of Catholic University of America in Washington. We wrote to him about the barge. He told us he would be in Washington soon and would welcome a talk with us. As it turned out, he wanted us to arrange an even swap of the log barge for a surplus Federal Maritime Administration cargo ship. I didn't get very far with that proposal. Our committee developed a small group of enthusiasts of all backgrounds. O ne of our members, a self-described "spook for the Company," told us he had worked with a retired Filipino colonel who might be in a position to help us. He arranged an evening meeting, and my friend from "the Company'' and I drove out to the colonel's large, impressive and obviously expens ive home. The co lonel was a round-faced, somewhat plump, middle-aged man with a most friendly personality. He had already been briefed on theKaiulani project and thought it was a great idea. He told us he was a close friend of Tony Madrigal and also had a protege, a young naval officer, working as chiefofstaff to Diosdado Macapagal, President of the Philippines. This yo ung officer, Alejandro ("Alex") Melchor, was an Annapolis graduate, and the colonel said he had arranged his academy appointment. Furthermore, President Macapagal was coming to the US soon to confer with President Johnson and it would be a good idea if he gave us the Kaiulani as a gift! All we had to do was provide the colonel with a round-trip ticket to Manila and he would be happy to work out the details. Personally, I felt the colonel was genuine, but we could not afford the ticket. I went to Jim Sharp, who said he wo uld be glad to place a bet on the colonel and buy the ticket. I called the colonel to give him the news and he advised me he only traveled first class! Jim said: "in for a penny, in for a pound" and came up with a first-class ticket. The colonel went off to the Philippines. Weeks went by and not a word from the colonel. Had we been taken? I called his home in Maryland. The colonel answered. Oh yes, he had been back for a couple of weeks and he had fixed everything up with Alex. Commander Melchor wo uld be comSEA HISTORY 94, AUTUMN 2000