The Ghosts of Lake Tahoe

by Patrick Betson

  He fled the federal troops and found himself on a ferry over to Oakland. He might have stayed and seen the city rebuilt. There would, in time, be plenty of work for house painters. But this was a case of survival, and he chose to leave the mayhem behind him. From Oakland he took a train to Sacramento where he visited a cousin. After a week, he wore out his welcome and he decided to move on. He intended going over to Reno, but for some reason he got off the train at Truckee. From there he caught the train down the fourteen-mile spur through the Truckee River Canyon to Lake Tahoe. He had borrowed a little money from his cousin, but it was clear it would not have lasted very long, so he walked around the small town of Tahoe City looking for work. Someone told him there were summer cottages that had needed repair down in the small hamlet of Homewood, six miles outside of town.

  It was the end of the first week of May when Lowe arrived in Homewood, on Lake Tahoe’s west shore. At first his tales of the San Franciscan quake had generated both interest and sympathy, and he was hired to look after the maintenance of six holiday cottages near the Homewood pier. He was permitted to stay in one until the first holiday-makers arrived later in the season. On Tahoe’s glorious west shore he felt he had found the peace to recuperate. He had always liked swimming, and, even though the lake’s waters were cool; he spent every summer’s day swimming for thirty minutes or more.

  The lake had no undertow and the water was so clear that the bottom was visible more than a hundred yards off shore. During his summer swims, Martin retrieved several items lying in among the submerged rocks, stones and sand. They were mostly useless relics…….. bits of old canoes, buckets with holes, abandoned crawfish traps, pieces of old rope, broken life buoys, a shattered ship’s lantern, an oar or two and other similar objects. However, nearer to the pier he found items of more value……..personal trinkets, lighters, spectacles, a bracelet, a snuff box, a scarf, a harmonica, etc. Anything of value he took back to his cottage.

  One day he was seen coming out of the water looking at a pocket watch.

  “What you got there?” asked a kindly stranger.

  “Just something I found.”

  “Could belong to someone?”

  “Well, if it did, it’s mine now.”

  “Could be there’s a reward for finding it?”

  This revelation began the wheels turning which would lead Martin to purposely look for owners of lost property. He also retrieved objects at the request of people, which eventually led him to performing tricks for tourists. Martin received plaudits’ from far and wide, and now he was the main attraction of a visit to Homewood.

  It was a warm late afternoon as Martin waited for the steamer. Tired of standing on the pier, Martin sat down and swung his legs over the edge of the boardwalk. The S.S. Tahoe was later than usual. He watched the sunlight dance on the water as a young boy and his dog ran past. At the end of the pier, two fishermen were pulling in their lines after a moderately successful day. He had already performed earlier, for the passengers on the Steamer Ship Nevada but Martin would never miss the Tahoe’s evening cruise. As the S. S. Tahoe rounded the point, Martin slowly got to his feet.

  The last hour of sun was shining and ladies with parasols and large feather plumed hats were visible. The gentleman on board wore a variety of cloth caps, derbies, and boaters. The voice of Captain Ernest J. Pomin was heard through the ship’s loud-haler as the steamer neared the Homewood Pier. “Ladies and gentlemen please observe the deckhand at the bow of the boat.” People would then turn to see the bowman on the deck, holding what appeared to be a dinner plate. “As you see, the deckhand is holding a plate from the ship’s galley, which he will now purposely throw over the side.” Right on cue, the deckhand tossed the plate into the water. As always, the majority of people were pleasurably enthralled as to what was happening. “Ladies and gentlemen, please watch carefully as the plate sinks some fifty feet to the bottom.” The throng would strain their eyes to see the plate gently sink deeper and deeper.

  “Now, ladies and gentleman please observe the solitary figure at the end of Homewood Pier.” As people turned to view his rotund figure, Martin, dressed in his one-piece bathing suit, would throw his arms above his head and, as majestically as he could, dive into the water.

  It was a tried and tested piece of circus that captivated all who witnessed it. Martin would be beneath the surface for what seemed like an eternity. “Ladies and gentleman, those of you on the forward deck, please give the deckhand a little bit of room.” A space was cleared at the bow of the steamer. A few moments later, miraculously, the discarded dinner plate would fly through the air and be brilliantly caught by the deckhand. Sometimes the deckhand might drop the plate, or miss it altogether, but never did the plate fail to reappear. “Ladies and gentleman, please observe our hero Martin Lowe back on the pier.” As the steamer pulled up to the pier, Martin would be there to greet the passengers, grinning from ear to ear! In less than five minutes, since Martin had first entered the water, the plate had been retrieved and thrown back and Martin had returned to the spot where he had first started, as if by magic.

  It had taken a few weeks for the trick to be perfected. Originally, Martin used to swim to the steamer with the retrieved plate and pass it up, while still in the water. But he and the captain both felt it lacked the necessary drama. They had also tried Martin starting on board the steamer, but getting up to Tahoe City was always time consuming, and diving off the side of the steamer was a little awkward and ungainly. Captain Pomin asked Martin if he could possibly dive off the pier while the steamer was on its final approach to Homewood. Martin was certain he could, and also get back onto the pier, if he could somehow throw the plate back on board instead of having to pass it up to the deckhand. Throwing the plate from the water needed practice, and it was hours before Martin got it right. Once everyone was well rehearsed and the timing was worked out just right, the trick never failed to amuse the passengers, and the visitors would recount it to their friends and family for days and weeks afterwards.

  News of an earthquake survivor, who had become an aquatic showman up at Lake Tahoe, filtered down to San Francisco. So the San Francisco Examiner sent up a reporter by the name of Charles Tenwell to write a human-interest story, around the man and the star attraction he had become. Charles Tenwell went on the Steamer Tahoe and witnessed firsthand the amazing recovery of the plate. At first his attention, like the other passengers, was diverted from watching the water to clearing a space for the deckhand. So, he didn’t see how Martin made it back on the pier in so little time.

  Tenwell came to the conclusion that it wasn’t humanly possible; that there had to be a piece of trickery. Was the distant figure he first saw dive from the pier, the same person who reappeared on the pier, or were there in fact two people? Charles Tenwell thought it a better story to expose the trick than to write an account of Martin’s remarkable performance. So, he went on the Tahoe a few more times. He had to confess he was astounded each time he saw the performance. He even saw the whole performance from the Homewood pier, to be sure that it was Martin who started on the pier. He was convinced that there had to be more than one plate that perhaps several plates were already in the water. In the light of professional interest, he felt the trick had to be exposed.

  Not wishing to destroy either Martin’s or Captain Pomin’s reputation, he decided to meet with “The Walrus” and the master of the Tahoe. They were both amazed that Tenwell thought it was a piece of trickery, but Tenwell was not convinced by their denials. He was determined to prove that the show, although good, was not quite as amazing as it appeared.

  He smuggled his own plate on board the Tahoe. The plate that Tenwell brought on board was a little smaller than the Tahoe’s dinner plate, and it was not white but a dark blue. Knowing the performance was timed to the minute, he decided to tell Pomin in advance that he wanted to substitute his own plate. Pomin at first objected, knowing that Martin would be totally ignorant of the switch. Pomin also pointed out because his
plate was blue it could be a lot more difficult for Martin to find. In the end Captain Pomin acquiesced, but told Tenwell that even if Martin did not find the plate that it really proved nothing.

  The captain thought it best for the passengers not to be completely disappointed. So he asked Tenwell if he minded if his plate, and a Tahoe dinner plate, might be used on this unique occasion. Tenwell had no objection to this, so the Captain informed the deckhand that today two plates would be used. Pomin asked the deckhand to give Martin as much of a head’s up as possible, by holding both plates up high before throwing them into the water.

  Martin knew something was up when he watched the deckhand hoist two plates way above his head. The sun reflected off both plates, and Martin could not easily distinguish the difference between them. It was going to be a real test to find both plates in the short amount of time. He watched the deckhand throw both plates overboard and heard the captain make his introduction. As usual, Martin raised his arms high above his head and dived into the water. Tenwell, on board with the other passengers, watched Martin disappear beneath surface, the sunlight dancing on the ripples where he had entered the water. Suddenly, Martin reappeared off the starboard side and threw a white dinner plate, which was caught by the deckhand.

  The usual applause was somewhat subdued as it became apparent the blue plate was not thrown back. Captain Pomin was disappointed but still gave his usual proclamation when Martin reappeared on the pier. Tenwell was caught between disappointment and elation, but he was also aware of being ashamed that perhaps his plate had been an unfair addition. Perhaps he had not proved the trick was false anyway.

  As the steamer pulled up to the pier, there was Martin with his usual grinning face, showing no sign of failure. Captain Pomin came out on the bridge and looked hard at Martin, but he just stood there smiling. The captain then looked down at Tenwell on the deck; Tenwell met the captain’s eyes with a bewildered look of his own.

  However, there was something about Martin’s demeanor that made the captain unsure of what had gone wrong. Captain Pomin then did something he was not quite convinced he ought to do. He got back on the loud hailer and directly asked Martin what had happened to the blue plate. All eyes went to Martin on the pier, and slowly the aquatic marvel took his hands from behind his back, and to everyone’s amazement and to instant cheers, in his hand was the blue plate. A cry of “That’s my boy!” came from the bridge as the usually non emotional Captain, laughed and clapped his hands.

  A few weeks later, in The San Franciscan Examiner, an article described how the beauty of Lake Tahoe offered so much to the visiting tourist and how its beauty had been enhanced, by a unique and rather curious attraction. The article was entitled “The Unbelievable Dolphin Man of Lake Tahoe!”

  The 1934 Bentley pulled up to the Glenbrook Inn, and out stepped a diminutive man. He was well dressed, as was his lady companion. They had stopped for lunch on a day tour around Lake Tahoe. It was a clear, sunny August day in 1937. Finding their way to the Inn’s restaurant, they were directed to a window table with a view of the lake. The hostess who seated them did not recognize either the lady or the man.

  To the hostess’s surprise, the temporary waiter, who was a tall man with large ears, asked if he might be allowed to wait on the couple by the window. The hostess was only too pleased to let the waiter do this. The waiter was actually a guest in the hotel, but he insisted on helping out if and when the restaurant was busy. This particular lunchtime, half of the restaurant’s twenty tables were occupied with hotel guests and visitors. It was the wish of everyone to be served by the relief waiter. Still, the couple who had arrived in the Bentley had not noticed him until he came to their table.

  “The establishment reserves the right to refuse to serve anyone, especially tramps,” remarked the waiter. “However, since the owner is away, we will not ask you to leave this time.”

  The diminutive man rose to his feet and stood as tall as he could, but the waiter was still several inches taller.

  The smaller man replied, “You may refuse to serve me, but I have to say this establishment has very poor taste, especially when it comes to employing staff.” Jane, the hostess, looked on in disbelief. The tension was tangible. But a small smile was evident on the waiter’s face. Jane looked on as the tall waiter clumsily dropped his napkin. As the waiter bent over to pick it up, the diminutive man, unable to resist, planted his shoe on the waiter’s rear and pushed him to the floor.

  The flustered hostess rushed to help the waiter to his feet. She turned to the stranger and said “Do you know who your waiter is?” The diminutive man shrugged and smiled.

  The waiter rolled over onto his side and smiled a broad smile. “I think he knows only too well who his waiter is, hence the lack of respect.” Jane looked very confused.

  The waiter got to his feet and told Jane that everything was all right. The two men squared up to each other, smiled, and gave each other a hug. The waiter then hugged the lady and sat down in a vacant seat. “What are you doing here?” asked the waiter.

  “Well, I have not been here since the Gold Rush, and Paulette has never been here before.”

  The waiter grinned. “Well, I knew you have been around a very long time, but the Gold Rush, that would have been about ninety years ago, right?”

  The small man acknowledged his friend’s effort at humor. “Well, that might have been your Gold Rush but mine was less than a dozen years ago. But what of you? Are you trying to supplement your income by waiting tables?”

  “I am thinking of getting divorced. Or rather, I am here to get my Nevadan state residency, so I can get divorced. Anyway, I like to wait tables. It’s therapeutic to the soul to serve one’s fellow man!”

  The waiter told Jane that since the restaurant was not too busy, he was going to join his friends. The friends ate, drank, and laughed the day away; the couple’s planned tour of the lake was shelved. The waiter suggested the couple stay through the evening and spend the night at the Inn as his guests.

  Later that evening,

  Jane learned the identity of the small man and his partner, and now felt she would never live it down. The restaurant was busier than usual that evening, since word had gotten out among the locals that there was a trick to be played on certain unsuspecting customers.

  Paulette was sitting at a table by herself. When the chosen couple came in, they were purposely led to the table adjacent to hers. One of the waitresses came over and gave them time to look over the menu. After looking at the menu, the gentleman ordered the trout, the lady ordered the pork loin, and they ordered some wine. When the food came out, Paulette leaned over from her table and inquired what they had ordered. Upon being told, Paulette told the man that she, too, had eaten the trout, but it was somewhat dry. At this time, the tall waiter came by and filled up the couple’s wine glasses. Paulette spoke directly to the waiter, “This gentleman has ordered the trout and it is a little dry.”

  The waiter told the couple that he would pass on their comments to the chef. “Well, I wasn’t exactly complaining,” said the startled gentleman, who looked hard and long at the waiter. “Aren’t you - ?” The waiter cut him off and left for the kitchen. He returned and told the couple the chef would be right out.

  The couple started whispering among themselves. “I feel so embarrassed, I wasn’t complaining, it was the lady who said the fish was dry, I didn’t say anything.” The man looked around the room. “Everyone is looking at us.” The lady looked around and, yes, everyone was indeed looking at them. “I don’t know what just happened. I don’t want a scene with chef!” the man said, in an anguished voice.

  “Just tell the waiter that you have no complaint dear.” The lady patted the back of her partner’s hand reassuringly.

  Then the man commented. “That waiter looks exactly like that film star. But it couldn’t be. What would he be doing serving table at a restaurant?”

  Suddenly, the lights in the restaurant went out, and in dramatic fashion the d
oors leading to the kitchen swung open. Silhouetted by the bright lights of the kitchen behind, stood the darkened outline of the chef. It was such a piece of grand drama that all movement in the restaurant stopped. The lights of the restaurant went back on. The chef wore a chef’s hat and carried a rolling pin which he banged into his open palm several times. Every time he banged the rolling pin small puffs of flour filled the air. He stood there for a minute or two and then shuffled into the restaurant with his feet almost at right angles.

  The chef was small and had an unmistakable moustache. Everyone, patrons, and staff alike, looked at the chef as he penguined his way into the room. Still smacking the rolling pin into his open hand, the look of determination on his face suggested he was ready do battle with anyone who dared to complain. The chef first spoke to the tall waiter. The waiter gestured toward the couple. The chef glared in their direction. The conversation with the waiter continued and grew ever more heated. It was obvious that the chef was becoming angry. The argument between the chef and waiter ended with the waiter being unceremoniously kicked in the behind. The couple was so taken aback that they dared not speak.

  Paulette got up and spoke to the chef. She told him that the trout served to the gentlemen was dry. The chef whirled around and faced the man. He tipped his hat to the lady, stared at the gentleman and smacked the pin against his open hand again. After a few more smacks with the rolling pin, the chef put it down, rolled up his sleeves, took an empty seat from Paulette’s table, and sat in between the couple. He grabbed a fork, took the gentleman’s meal and proceeded to eat it. He looked up at the lady, smiled a pursed-lip smile, and tipped his hat. Between every mouthful, he would stare at the gentleman, twitch his moustache, turn to the lady, tip his hat, and smile again. Without a word the chef ate the whole meal, finally putting his finger tips to his lips he blew a kiss. The waiter came across and said, “Well, obviously the chef thinks the trout is very good!” Neither the gentleman nor the lady had spoken: the man’s mouth was wide open, and the lady’s eyes were wider than saucers. The waiter spoke again “Would you perhaps like the chef to prepare, or perhaps (the waiter paused for effect) EAT, something else for you? Howls of laughter rang around the dining room.