Ship to Shore

As the sun glinted off water the color of gunmetal, the Harbor King cruised across San Francisco Bay. On this cold early-spring morning, I stood at the boat’s railing and gazed at a city skyline that has changed much since World War II, trying to imagine how it looked to the 1 1/2 million troops who passed this way between 1941 and 1945. San Francisco was the point of embarkation during the war in the Pacific, and it is rich with the nostalgia of that time. My husband, Paul, who’s a World War II buff, and I hoped to absorb some of it this weekend.

We were prompted to come by the opening last fall of the Aircraft Carrier U.S.S. Hornet Museum. As our harbor-cruise boat passed under the San Francisco Bay Bridge, I spotted the ship amid the cranes at the now-shuttered Naval Air Station in Alameda. It was one of the most decorated aircraft carriers in World War II, a ship that saw battle in Korea and Vietnam and was used for the recovery of the Apollo 11 and 12 space capsules.

The Harbor King, which we’d boarded at Fisherman’s Wharf, slowed almost reverentially as it approached the Hornet, dwarfed by looming bulk 21 stories high and the length of three football fields. Spotting rust stains along the Hornet’s massive hull, I recalled reading that the 55-year-old aircraft carrier was en route to being scrapped in 1995 when a group of volunteers formed a foundation to have it declared a National Historic Landmark. Today the ship-museum has a small full-time staff and is run mostly by volunteer docents--500 in all--half of whom served in the Navy.

On this busy Saturday morning, about 35 docents were on hand to greet visitors and give impromptu tours. Ken Silva, a vet who drives every weekend from Stockton to “play on the ship,” explained that things are just getting started: The cavernous hangar deck where we boarded the Hornet, for example, now holds only two aircraft: a TBM Avenger from WWII and a sleek S-8A Crusader jet that was flown in Vietnam. The museum foundation plans to bring in more vintage airplanes so that visitors can get a hint of what this vast space looked like in the ‘40s when 100 aircraft were packed in, folded-wing to folded-wing. When Silva pointed the way to the flight deck, I understood some of the problems of turning an aircraft carrier into a public museum: We had to climb three very narrow, steep ladders, with only chains for railings. On the flight deck, a docent was warning a troop of Boy Scouts that this is one museum where visitors must be mindful of safety.

One of the joys of this museum is that there are four acres of ship open to public exploration, either on your own or with a docent. That’s about half the ship’s area either restored or undergoing restoration.

I scoped out the flight deck, curious to learn how jet planes were catapulted into takeoffs, and how they had to hook a cable when they landed. Volunteer docent Ken Doughty, who at 17 looks like a young Charles Lindbergh, took Paul and me on a tour of the “island,” the seven-story tower that rises above the flight deck. We visited the glassed-in “Pri Fly” control room, the nerve center for takeoffs and landings. Doughty pointed out ladders leading to the captain’s and admiral’s bridges. Both had polished chrome rather than chain railings.

We descended below the hangar deck to where the carrier’s two 16-ton anchors are stored, and into the “secondary con” in the bullnose deep in the front of the ship, a fortified control center to which officers could retreat if the island were destroyed. We peeked into the crew living quarters. During WWII, 3,400 crew members took turns sleeping here--in half as many bunks--in shifts of sleeping and duty called “hot-bunking.” The Boy Scout troop I’d seen earlier would spend the night here, taking part in the museum’s first “live-aboard” education program.

Three hours was barely enough time to see everything aboard the Hornet, but the Harbor King had arrived to take us back.

Back at Fisherman’s Wharf, Paul and I grabbed a couple of bagels (sourdough, this being San Francisco) and walked west past Ghirardelli Square to Ft. Mason, a former military site that was maneuvered into public hands in 1972. During WWII it was the staging area for troops leaving for the Pacific war zone. We joined joggers and cyclists on a path that offers views of the Golden Gate Bridge.

Today Ft. Mason’s remaining wharves and buildings are occupied by about 50 nonprofit organizations, including the San Francisco Craft & Folk Art Museum and the Mexican Museum. We were disappointed to learn that the S.S. Jeremiah O’Brien, a World War II Liberty Ship that was long docked here, had been moved to a berth south of the San Francisco Bay Bridge. Ft. Mason is now so busy with cultural events, we were told, there isn’t enough parking to accommodate ship visitors.

We returned to our hotel, the Metropolis, a boutique hotel opened last fall in the former Oxford Hotel, a 1930s historic landmark. Renovators have restored the original Spanish Colonial Revival painted ceiling in the lobby and added artsy touches inspired by sets from Fritz Lang’s silent movie “Metropolis”: a black waterfall sculpture behind the front desk, 14-foot-tall maple-framed mirrors and pastel frosted-glass chandeliers. Our room was small but pleasant, with a wave-shaped blond wood headboard, “energizing” drinks in the mini-fridge and a tiny terrace that afforded a partial view of the bay. The bathroom, however, was minuscule, and the surrounding neighborhood--the Tenderloin district near Market Street--has far to go before it lives up to the high style of this hotel. We didn’t feel safe walking nearby after dark.

After dinner at Silks, an elegant California-Asian restaurant in the nearby Mandarin Oriental Hotel, we climbed Nob Hill to the Mark Hopkins Hotel for a nightcap in the Top of the Mark. During World War II, as the highest spot in the city, this penthouse bar and lounge was where many soldiers took their wives and sweethearts for a last drink before shipping out. Afterward, the women would come here to watch their ships pass under the Golden Gate Bridge, gathering at what was called the “weeping corner.”

Today the Tower of the Fairmont Hotel across the street is taller, and a few high-rises mar the view, but from the Top of the Mark you can still see the Golden Gate Bridge, its string of lights sparkling in the distance. The long center bar has been replaced by a stage for a pianist and dancing, but there is still a small bar in the northwest corner of the room. I walked over to it. The bartender was much too young to have been here in the ‘40s, but he knew all about “Meet Me at the Mark.”

He pointed to a small plaque above the bar emblazoned with the insignia of the U.S. Marines. In the dim light the inscription was difficult to read, but it raised a lump in my throat: “During World War II from 1941 through 1945, thousands of Marines embarking from San Francisco for Pacific Island Campaigns declared ‘Meet me at the Top of the Mark.’ In their memory, there will always be an open seat at the bar.”

More Weekend Escapes: To purchase copies of past Weekend Escapes articles, call Times on Demand at (800) 788-8804, 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. Mon.-Fri.

Budget for Two

Air fare LAX-SF: $170.00

Metropolis Hotel, 2 nights: $353.40

Taxis: $22.00

Boat to Hornet & museum admission: $60.00

Lunch, snacks: $5.05

Dinner, Silks: $62.00

Top of the Mark: $16.25

FINAL TAB: $688.70

Hotel Metropolis, 25 Mason St., San Francisco, CA 94102; tel. (800) 553-1900. Info on Red & White Fleet cruise from Fisherman’s Wharf, tel. (800) 229-2784. Info on U.S.S. Hornet, tel. (510) 521-8448.