The pier at Seacliff is going to be demolished. I know a lot of people grew to dislike the pier. I get it. It’s old. It’s decrepit (esp. post-being-cloven-in-twain earlier this year). It literally stinks up the neighborhoods around it. The SS Palo Alto, a cement ship, intentionally grounded and taking on water since 1929, apparently was once a swanky place to eat. But no one really remembers that anymore. It’s just another disappointment of The Ugliest Pier.
But despite its shortcomings, I’m going to miss the pier. Years of beach days with the church, weaving in and out of its wooden legs. Walking barefoot on its planks and feeling each splinter tug at my skin, like a friendly pinch. Chatting with its pigeons and seagulls, and eyeing the water for a glimpse of a shark in the shallows.
At the end of the pier it felt like you could see the whole bay extend beyond you over the waters. You could hear the sounds of birthday party barbecues, and, cutting past the noise of the breaking waves, the soft sound of that one guy who plays the trumpet at Rio Del Mar.
It was a beautiful, messed up wreck. Maybe that’s why I liked it so much.
Attached are some snaps I took of the pier last year with my Canonet.
