Rotting ship lurks upriver from Goble, story fades with time
Its been a ghost for nearly two decades, whispering memories from a bygone age.
Now, the River Queen, once a Portland floating attraction, sits and rots, its future unsure and its aging hull lurking just above the Columbia River muck.
Curious travelers can get a glimpse of a hulking ship moored just upriver from the tiny town of Goble, peering through a thicket of trees between Highway 30 and the river. The mystery has drawn hopeful visitors for years,
and the current owner has spent much of his time fighting off vandals and would-be explorers.
But now, says owner Clay Jonak, its time to tell the old queens story, lest it be lost to time and to the river itself.
Born as the SS Shasta, the River Queen originally was constructed as a steam-powered ferry during the pre-Golden Gate Bridge days in San Francisco. The boat had a length of 216 feet, 7 inches, and room for 55 automobiles and 468 passengers who could travel across the bay between San Francisco and Oakland.
In the late 1930s, when the newly constructed Golden Gate and Bay bridges effectively put an end to the ferry business, the Shasta and other ferries were sold off. One was taken to South America, but the Shasta made its way to Seattle and worked in Puget Sound. By the late 1940s, it already was outdated. By the mid-1950s, it was used sparingly because of heavy smoke that billowed from its bright red smokestack.
In 1958, the River Queen was retired from its run between Bremerton, Wash., and Seattle and replaced with a pair of ferries the Klahowya and Tillikum both of which still run today.
The River Queens stint on the Columbia River as the Centennial Queen to
celebrate the 1959 Oregon centennial celebration was short-lived. Three years later, in 1962, it was bought and converted into a floating restaurant.
For more than 30 years, both in Oregon City and on the waterfront in Portland, the boat entertained visitors as a unique floating attraction. The engines were cut apart to better use the space on the vehicle deck, with dining on both decks and a dance floor where cars once parked.
Without the powerful steam engines, the River Queen was just a barge below the water line. But from above, it was an opulent vessel. Delicate woodwork and stained glass adorned the aft-dining room on the upper deck, with trim around the walls painted a bright red to match the crimson carpet and chairs. One wall was covered with glimmering gold-colored paper and an intricate pattern of felt-like markings.
Outside, flags hung on wires strung between its smokestack, and red, white and blue awnings surrounded the upper decks antique windows. The various pipes on the roof were either bright red or bright blue, depending on the year.
Downstairs, cushioned red seats lined the outer edge of the dance and dining floor, stretching beneath large windows that dominated the walls of the lower deck. Between the upper and lower floors were a pair of elegant staircases, split up the middle with vibrant red banisters.
With a glimpse of the old River Queens former glory in mind, its easy to see what made it such an attraction. The old ferry boat was a destination for wedding receptions and anniversary celebrations, and even hosted top U.S. Navy brass at times when ships came into Portland for the Rose Festival.
The few collections of River Queen memories online draw countless comments from well-wishers who remember what dining and dancing on the floating restaurant was like. Those who can recall the experience paint the River Queen as an interesting place to visit. The food was good and the boat remained somewhat of a destination despite its attempts during river floods to work free of its bonds.
But it was not to last. According to Jonak, the renovators made mistakes when changing the vessel from a ferry to a restaurant. For one, they used household lumber for the ornate woodwork not marine-grade wood. They also didnt care for the aging hull, and did nothing about asbestos belowdecks and inside the boiler room.
Eventually, in 1995, the boat fell into disrepair when a family illness forced the River Queen to close. More than two years later, it was bought by Portland-area developer Michael Beardsley, who hoped to turn it into floating condos: two units on the upper deck and two on the lower deck. The idea, because of an oversaturated market, fell through. So did later efforts to turn it into a floating casino.
Beardsley wrote in a blog post in November 2009 that he was willing to give tours of the dilapidated boat to anyone with even a passing interest in taking it off his hands.
The ship is in a state of disrepair that, while not beyond hope, would still require many man-hours of elbow grease and no small amount of dollars to bring her around to her former glory, Beardsley wrote.
Shortly thereafter, the River Queen was put where many unused and unwanted items end up, though it might come as a surprise: Craigslist.
The ad attracted Jonak, a marine salvor who had kept his eye on the Queen for several years. Jonak says he immediately went to Beardsleys office and bought the boat for $2, cash.
What he found, though, was disheartening. The River Queen was in far worse condition than he expected, having nearly succumbed to 10 years of vandals, squatters and tweakers.
Jonak says the boat was full of trash, including discarded needles and shattered glass. The unique brass finishings from the boats interior were gone, and many of the antique windows were missing. At times, it was apparent people would take potshots at the side of the River Queen from nearby Highway 30.
Once, Jonak remembers, a rock band arrived by boat, broke into one of the starboard windows, and filmed a music video inside using his electrical hookups to power their instruments and equipment before escaping the same way they had come.
The trash has been mostly cleaned up, and its possible to walk on the main deck and parts of the upper deck, but the floors remain littered with shattered glass. Now, there are just a handful of barrels and the frame of a rusting trailer on the inside of what used to be the car deck. A single broken chair and a few kitchen items lurk upstairs.
Jonak says the boat is basically ready for the next step in its life. He hopes to turn the River Queen into some type of floating workshop instead of scrapping it, but has struggled to make headway with a handful of state agencies to continue work on the boat.
In close to eight years after Jonak bought the Queen, it still rests in a few feet of water near Goble, the roof partially collapsed, most of the west-facing windows missing and surrounded by a growing crowd of unused tugs, sailboats and barges. Jonak lives in a small dwelling at the crowds center, cut off from the shore with the exception of a rickety wooden walkway. There are no water or sewer pipes, and no electricity running from the shoreline and thats what Jonak has been fighting for over the past five years.
The Coast Guard has concerns that the river isnt navigable, and that some of Jonaks boats might break free. The Department of Environmental Quality worries that fuel or other debris might leak from some of the boats and damage the river. The Department of State Lands has similar concerns, but for the surrounding wetlands. The Department of Justice is even involved, helping to sort out the issue and move forward.
Jonak, though, stresses two things. First, he has no intention of letting the boat rot indefinitely, and he hopes to eventually get a return on his $2 investment even if thats by scrapping the River Queen for what he believes may be nearly $100,000 in steel. His other concern is intrigued explorers, for whom Jonak has a clear message scrawled across part of the boat:
The River Queen is private property, and anyone caught trespassing will be held
accountable.