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What do they produce? They concoct
stocks, sauces, stir-fries and soups. Roasts.
Pasta. Fish, meats and vegetables. They bake
and roast and sauté. At some point, nine
months or better up the road, they graduate
with a tool kit and credentials that make
opportunities possible.
The Job Corps helps the students find jobs.
That is one of the missions. On this blustery
day, the students cooked a three-coarse meal
for the participants of this small conference.
It was a fine achievement: a divine pasta
salad, roasted chicken with a béchamel sauce
and perfect vegetables, and a dessert the way
grandmother prepared — she, in that modest
farm house on the Clatsop Plains, back when
there were sailing ships, not replicas.
Badger stood by proudly until the students
scampered back into the kitchen and polished
the splendid stainless-steel equipment to a
luster. There is little slack in his kitchen.
Aboard the
Hawaiian
Chieftain
A passenger sails the Columbia
River — and Job Corps
students sail into tomorrow
Story and photos by
DAVID CAMPICHE
Sail on
FOR COAST WEEKEND
T
he Columbia River and dirty-gray rain
clouds were bucking and swaying and
gobbling up the distant horizon, the
mastodon headlands ten miles downri-
ver at Cape Disappointment.
A firm southwest wind spoke of late
spring. Nine ocean-going ships lay at anchor,
swinging like giant clock hands as the tide
mimicked the pulse of the moon — a Kwa-
gulth moon, the Native moon of the peace
dance. Sailing aboard the Hawaiian Chieftain,
I felt strangely secure, and happy.
We were under sail. The good captain, Gary
Heinrich, barked against the wind. His messag-
es were piggy-backed by crew members from
bow to stern. Up went a second sail, the miz-
zen. A crisp breeze cracked the linen, and the
vessel came around into the wind. She raced
against the tide like a strong young bull.
Two miles inland and along the Astoria
shoreline, Rain City seemed to draw in a deep
breath as the vessel sailed westerly. Folks
stopped and watched. Certainly, they were
stunned with awe.
The ship is a gallant vessel, and embod-
ies a spirit that extends long past the age of
wooden sailing ships. Built in Maui in 1988,
she joined her sister ship, the Lady Washing-
ton, in 2006 as an educational and training
venture through the Grays Harbor Historical
Seaport Authority.
The 104-foot ship sails into our waters
once or twice a year. Along with the Lady
Washington, she shares a time and space that
we somehow envy — though, in fairness,
sailing under a national flag in the eighteenth
and nineteenth centuries (be it French, En-
The Hawaiian Chieftain at sea
glish, Spanish or American) was an occupa-
tion fraught with danger.
The voyage was too short. The Chieftain
circled the deep channel of the Lower Co-
lumbia and headed back to Tongue Point Job
Corps. I would have loved to cross the river
bar. “Never look a gift horse in the mouth,”
my father used to say.
Dad was normally right. The voyage was
a Disney moment, carefully scripted for the
awe-inspired tourist, of which I was one. We
shot the cannon and watched a young seaman
furl the sails. The big engine kicked in, and
we soon sidled into port at Tongue Point.
The Job Corps
The Tongue Point Job Corps is a treasure
in our community, a hands-on opportunity for
youth to gather skills and venture forth with a
shiny new meal card.
Harley Badger guides students in his
culinary program. I have served and prepared
food for decades now. Badger’s dedication to
food lore only enhanced my appreciation of
the trials and aspirations of preparing a lovely
plate of food. Badger is a conductor, his stu-
dents the orchestra. His voice is kind, but the
message is firm. Here, daily, the kids produce
or fade away.
The voyage on the Hawaiian Chieftain
was a highlight. I felt honored to be includ-
ed. The ship offers a full glimpse of “Seven
Years before the Mast” to grade school and
high school students, and gawkers waiting
on the docks at Westport, Astoria, Ilwaco
and landing venues farther south.
The young crew, many of them working
part-time, is enthusiastic, energized and
capable. What are they offering us: a voyage
into what was, and will not be again?
We know that the life of a seaman was
hazardous, even when the enemy wasn’t
shooting 25-pound iron balls in the short
distances between stately vessels. Yet this
is a glimpse into a slower way of life that
dealt with the moods of nature, the storms
and rages of winter at sea. The unpredictable
gale of early spring or the hurricane in the
Caribbean when the day started upon smooth
blue water and even pearly skies. I venture
that people lived differently then. And we
feel that difference when the ship luffs out
the sails and the proud vessel is moved by
furtive winds.
Back in the classroom, Badger is prepar-
ing lessons, checking inventory and issuing
grades. His day is long. That happens with
dedication. The students feel it.
For many of these students, this educa-
tional opportunity provided by Job Corps is
a launching pad for further education and,
possibly, their careers. Like riding the spirit
ship into the future, they, too, will come
about. Before them is a great sea, and they
travel together in a comparably small boat.
Grab the tiller and point true and straight
into tomorrow. CW