09/07/2026
Torpedo Wharf
I decided to photograph the sunset behind the Golden Gate Bridge on an early spring evening. The plan was to set up on the wharf near Fort Point and see what the light might give me. Early spring in San Francisco means layers of clothes should always be within reach. Hat, coat, and gloves should not be optional. The wind coming in from the Pacific was whipping and gave the thought that winter was not going to leave without a fight.
Admittedly, sunsets happen every day and someone somewhere is recording that very occurrence, but when dramatic clouds moving in from the Pacific show up, they deserve their place in the story also. They were dark and heavy, my favorite, with just enough openings for the remaining light to find its way through. I kept adjusting the camera and making photographs, never knowing which frame might hold everything together.
Then the main tower catches the light.
For a few minutes, the bridge glowed against the darkening sky. Fort Point sits beneath the southern span, the Marin Headlands fell into shadow, and the cold water just kept moving in front of me. There was an enormous old cleat in front of my tripod, and looking at its size, I knew some pretty large boats must have tied up right where I was standing.
I usually arrive with some idea of the image I plan to create. However, I've noticed over the years, the weather really doesn't care about my plans. It changes the light, moves the clouds, and gives me something different from what I'd planned. All I can do is pay attention and be ready when it does.
The light did not last. It never does. It's fleeting and fickle, never doing as asked. Within a few minutes, it had moved off the tower and the scene changed again.
When the color was gone and I was cold enough, I packed my gear and headed for the warmth of home and a nice Cabernet. I was anxious to see what I'd captured, as I always am, but never know for certain until I see the image on a much larger screen. But that old cleat stuck with me. Once home, I looked up the place where I'd been standing.
It's known as Torpedo Wharf, named for the underwater mines once called torpedoes. The Army loaded them onto boats from this location and placed them outside the Golden Gate as part of the harbor defenses around Fort Point.
When I first saw the image, my plan was to crop in and remove the cleat. No one would ever know it had been there. But the cleat had already told me there was history there, which is why I included it when I pressed the shutter. Once I learned the full story, cropping it out felt like removing part of that story.
The cleat stayed, and remains today. The chains along Fort Point were later removed. Luckily, I have those in images too.
I went there to create a Golden Gate sunset image, and I captured exactly that. But now, whenever I look at it, I think about the ghosts of the workers who once filled that wharf. Sailors stood on the decks of ships tied to that cleat, the sunset at their backs, looking down as dockworkers loaded the torpedoes aboard.
History is important, even when you don't know all of it at the time. I'm grateful I didn't crop away the one thing in the frame that still bears witness to their work.
~Roger
