Wilhelm Hester’s Waterfront

The ghosts of Tacoma’s waterfront during the age of sail still wander along the Foss Waterway–a stretch of boardwalk here, barnacled granite rip rap there, the old decking for Municipal Dock in the shadow of the Morgan Bridge and the steamshovel dredged waterway itself, cut to the length of a four masted windjammer so its helmsman could hoist a head sail at its mooring, pivot on its stern line and sail north onto Commencement Bay unattended by a tugboat.

But by far the best lens into Tacoma’s seaport past was on the camera of Wilhelm Hester, a young German immigrant and itinerant photographer who specialized in documenting sailing ships and their international crews. His best work was produced between 1893 and 1906 focusing on the Tacoma, Seattle and Port Blakely waterfronts with sojourns to San Francisco (where he created rare documentary images of Chinatown) and Alaska during the gold rush.

Hester viewed his subjects through a large format 8 by 10 inch glass plate negative camera which permitted him to correct the lens curvature seen in smaller cameras so the rigging and lines of the tall ships were visually straight and accurate. The large format imagry also let him focus in on the faces and fine details of life abord a merchant sailing vessel during the Victorian period. His skills at portrature and composition are timeless and they were essential in selling his photographs to both captains and crew.

Tacoma was an important shipping port for grain and lumber at the turn of the 20th century and a familiar destination for the last vessels of the Pacific sailing fleet. As steamships took over passenger service and more valuable, perishable cargos, the big sailing ships hung on carrying bulk loads like lumber, coal and grain. Tacoma’s waterfront at the end of the transcontinental railroad, where the rails met sails, was a familiar loading call for the great tall ships and their worldly crews.

The legendary longest warehouse in the world ran under the city like a chinstrap with tracks along one side and the wharfs along the other. The tall ships would wait their turn at anchor, then moor along the dock and load their cavernous, enginless holds with bagged wheat in a single longshoreman shift. And that was the time Wilhelm Hester began his work, finding the officers and idle crews, selling his skilled photographic eye and promising a personal keepsake that would record a time and place so very far away.

Many of Hester’s Tacoma photographs are unmistakable because of the Northern Pacific warehouse which runs along the dock in the background. Typically the crews would spend their shore time in the city spending pay at the theaters and bars on upper Pacific Avenue or the gambling and sporting houses between A Street and Cliff avenue. Messages home were sent from the post office or western union office near city hall and long steamy soaks in the Japantown sentos were a particular luxury. At the grand Tacoma Hotel sailors could drink beer with a live bear named Jack and just across the street Sheard’s curio shop was full of Pacific Northwest souvenirs, furs and skins, indian baskets and oddities. A streetcar ride could take a young sailor to the ancient forest at Point Defiance park and its herd of grazing buffalo. And excusion companies could carry adventurers to the country’s fifth National Park at The Mountain just 50 miles away.

And then, back on ship, there were the portraits, where captain and crew were gathered in their best cloths for a formal record of their Tacoma visit, suitable for wall hanging. Once the terms were set, Hester would compose his subjects, usually on deck with daylight and sharp focus giving each face a sense of character and perhaps a bit of heroics reinforced by the scale and loft of the surroundings. His photographs are masterful for their details, the calm expressions of skilled sailors in their element, the confident stance of a sea catain with his glass or the domestic touch of a sea dog curled up on the deck.

Wilhelm Hester unexplainably left the craft he was so gifted at in his early 30’s. While he continued to take pictures most of his life he and his brother Ernest moved into real estate speculation. In 1907 he closed his photographic studio on the top floor of the Bernice Building on Pacific Avenue, a peculiar office building full of detective agencies, lady lawyers, spice and tea dealers, artists and “international trade agents”. By 1929 Hester was reputedly worth a quarter of a million dollars. He lost it all in the Depression but then rebuilt a portfolio of income properties and lived out his life in a small mansion on lower Capitol Hill overlooking Lake Union. With the same precision and descerning eye he used in his photographs, Wilhelm spent his later years accumulating objects like a collection of the flotsam of his memory.

Wilhelm (standing) and Ernest Hester

When he died in 1947, the rooms of his house were filled with shelves, boxes and barrels of artifacts, gadgets and instruments. In a barrel were 58 alarm clocks in a nest of parts, movements and dials. In another a collection of bird cages and women’s feathered hats. And in another his cameras and more than a thousand glass plate negatives which make up the Hester Collection at the University of Washington Special Collections Library.

Perhaps the most displayed and discussed photograph ever made by Wilhelm Hester was his portrait of the doomed crew of the British four masted bark Andelana taken on January 14, 1899. Later that night at approximately 2:30 a.m. the vessel was caught in a violent squall while sitting empty at anchor in Commencement Bay. The steel hulled ship sank in 200 feet of water with all hands lost. Here is the haunting photograph.

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