Friday, December 03, 2004

The big house

Almost as soon as we hit San Francisco, locals urged us to do Alcatraz. The recommendations' general thrust was, it's touristy but great, and the audio tour is awesome. So on our last day in town, we headed for prison.

Unfortunately this meant our second trip to Fisherman's Wharf, the tourist district on the north edge of the city. Mention of Fisherman's Wharf prompts San Franciscans to roll their eyes, and for good reason: it's a gaudy, depressing thicket of souvenir stands and chain restaurants. A few days earlier I had dragged Ereck there so we could visit the Maritime Museum, a National Park Service site that has its charms. But one visit to the Wharf seemed like plenty. But Alcatraz beckoned.

We took the cable car from Powell Street, and when we disembarked we were at pains to figure out where to catch the boat to Alcatraz. Various touts loudly urged us to take their ferries, but we wanted the real McCoy, which eventually we found: the Blue & Gold Fleet at pier 41. We bought our tickets--$16 each for boat fare plus audio tour--and immediately boarded the good ship. After a brief ride across the bay, during which we eavesdropped on Australians sharing travel secrets, we stepped onto Alcatraz Island. A volunteer gave a brief speech, and then we entered a long, low, rather scary old room in which we watched a short video, which covered the history of Alcatraz Island: the early settlement, the prison era, the 1969 takeover by Indian activists. I enjoyed the film, though the prig in me was vexed by an abundance of typos in the subtitles.

At last it was time to tour the prison. A young man slung audio devices around our necks, and we entered the cellbock. What immediately struck me was how small Alcatraz is. Modern prisons are giant, rambling affairs, but Alcatraz is mostly just five shortish hallways, which have grimly humorous names like Broadway and Michigan Avenue. There's also a library, a dining hall and a cavernous shower.

People are right to rave about the audio tour. The narration is by former guards and prisoners (I thought one of the prisoners sounded like Bill Cosby, especially when he talked about how inmate Frank Morris dug his way out with "a spooooon"). The audio's production values recall National Public Radio's, and stereo is used unnervingly for sound effects like marching feet and slamming cell doors. As we walked through the passages, the narrators pointed out the cells of famous inmates like Al Capone and Robert Stroud, the Birdman of Alcatraz. We walked into several cells, which are small and painted green. (The toilets are filled with concrete, so don't get any funny ideas.) We also got to check out the inside of the hole, the collective name of some creepy isolation cells along the prison's west wall.

Once the tour was over we were free to roam the island, but there's not much more to see. Lots of the structures, like the warden's house, were destroyed during the Indian occupation, and their eerie ruins remain. Barriers and fences keep visitors out of many areas, but most accessible areas have stunning views of the city.

Visiting the Rock was unsettling. Our prison system is so fucked up, and one can only imagine what kind of horrors went down at Alcatraz. The fact that it's now a popular tourist attraction is mindblowing. Maybe someday there will be an audio tour of Abu Ghraib.

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