Funny, you don’t look that old

I ran into B.J. Johnson the other day, and she told me that Corona

del Mar has its centennial coming up -- not that many years before my

own.

My first vision of Corona del Mar was from across the bay looking

at what we Balboans then called the Palisades. My first visit to the

town took place in 1921, when my sister gave me a dime for a ride on

the launch that ran from the Pavilion to the Palisades Hotel. I

jumped off the launch onto a float attached to a ramshackle pier at

the foot of a long flight of steps that led to the Palisades Hotel.

That particular day, they were filming a movie on the float, and I

was so fascinated that I spent all day watching, so that when the

operator of the launch told me it was his last trip, I left without

ever setting foot in Corona del Mar itself.

My next visit I drove over with my brother-in-law, Dick Whitson.

In those days, it was quite a journey. Of course, we could ride

across the harbor to Balboa Island on the ferry, but that cost 50

cents, and with Dick’s Model T, one could drive forever on 50 cents

worth of gasoline. Instead, we drove up Newport Boulevard almost to

Santa Ana, then along some dirt roads to the head of the Upper

Newport Bay.

There we found a road that ran along the bay to where the present

bridge crosses the water. Here, we turned and followed the present

Bayside Drive to its intersection with Carnation. At that point, the

road ran up the side of the bluff coming out at Ocean Boulevard.

From there, we drove to Buck Gully, where another movie was being

made, this one about Eskimos. It was interesting to watch a bunch of

extras in heavy fur suits and boots trying to take kayaks out through

the surf. It was so interesting that once again I spent all day

watching the filming and not exploring Corona del Mar.

It was six years before I made my next visit to Corona del Mar. It

happened when Dick introduced me to a Captain Sheffield, who offered

me $25 a month to work at the Corona del Mar bathhouse. Since I was

working at the Green Dragon washing glasses for 10 cents an hour, and

not too many hours, I was going to be rich beyond my wildest dreams.

By this time, Corona del Mar had become Corona del Mar even to

hardened Balboans. The name Palisades still stuck to the hotel, which

opened and closed with some regularity.

The old Corona del Mar bathhouse was in what is now called

Pirate’s Cove. At the time, there was a wide beach in front of the

bathhouse that reached almost all the way across the water to the

Gillespie house on the Balboa side and up to the Kerckoff Laboratory

on the Corona del Mar side. Those which are now bay-front lots in

China Cove were then inside lots. Of course, all the lots were

vacant, as were most of the lots in the rest of Corona del Mar.

The bathhouse was erected on pilings and had two sections, one for

men, one for women, where people could change into the bathing suits

they rented from me. The highlight of my summer was meeting Duke

Kahanamoku, who kept his board there for surfing the channel mouth.

Although I drove to Corona del Mar seven days a week that summer,

I never left the beach, so I still didn’t have much of a perspective

on the place.

After the concrete breakwater was installed, I often swam over to

go bodysurfing, sliding into the wave as it ran alongside the

breakwater. You could get an 800-foot ride. Of course, if you got too

close to the concrete, you lost a shoulder, but that was the chance

you took.

At the foot of the breakwater was an iron chain ladder that you

climbed to get back on the breakwater, where you trotted to the end

and repeated the process. Again, my activities were geographically

limited, and my knowledge of Corona del Mar was no greater than it

had ever been.

It wasn’t until 1947, when we built our house on Iris, that I

really got to know the town. Obviously, I liked what I found, because

I’ve been here ever since -- and I hope to be here for the

celebration.

* ROBERT GARDNER is a Corona del Mar resident and a former judge.

His column runs Tuesdays.