moose eater
Well-known member
When I'd be taking the Alaska Marine Highway Ferry out of the old docking at Pier 48, before they moved it to Bellingham, it rarely failed that I'd get into Seattle with lbs. of smoke and 24-48 hours before the boat left. (Murphy-isms). It was back in the days before they put lots of donated $ into gentrifying the place, and there were political activists literally standing on fruit crates and pedaling their pamphlets, magazines, etc. Back then you might run into members of ELF, etc., there.love that place
The musicians back then played where they wished, as the Market didn't have designated spots for them to stand on a scheduled shift. Conformity didn't live there quite yet, but basic civility typically did.
I'd drop my pack(s) with suspect payload off at the BC ferry terminal (I think it was Pier 64) and put that gear into a coin-operated locker there, so that if anyone had said something untoward re. my ventures, I wouldn't have it on me when I checked into the terminal I was later departing from at Pier 48. (Hard to find such lockers these days with the fears of terrorism and bombs, they took most or all lockers out of the equation).
I'd sleep in various places, either in the concrete or wooden stairwells, or sometimes someone offered me a bed, listen to music by the musicians in various places near or inside the corridors of the market, and eat the aforementioned foods and Asian cuisine for a day or 2, maybe some awesome Dungeness crab chowder at the Pike Place Brewery and Restaurant, shop in the headshops, antique shops, the pubs, etc. (I still have at least one pipe from those days, purchased there in the Market's lower level inside).
There was a used bookstore that carried a wide variety of leftist reading material as well as conventional, right across from the pig. It was called Left Bank Books. They often had unique stuff.
There was a used clothing store just around the corner from the infamous pig statue called, 'The Schizophrenic Clinic' and they funded a street clinic for mentally ill folks. I got used, as-new, name-brand hiking boots there, as well as the old (made in Oregon) Pendleton wool shirts for pennies on the dollar.
It was a whole different atmosphere there back then.
Gentrification sucks, on one hand, but their efforts also saved a class act Market that was in disrepair and needed a LOT of preservation.
Last edited: