The Otter Trade and the First U.S. Citizens in Orange County

The German artist Georg Heinrich von Langsdorff made this sketch of California seals along the coast sometime in between 1803-1807. Unlike seals, the otter were usually swimming along the coast on their backs. Otter skins were the first lure that brought people from the United States to California. This image of the California coast is one of the few contemporary to the earliest visits of U.S. Americans to today’s Orange County. (Honeyman Collection)


The Otter Trade and the First U.S. Citizens in Orange County

In the year 1776 the opposite coasts of what would become the continental United States represented two very different stories in European colonialism. On the east coast that year, the American Colonies formally declared their independence from the rule of King George III of Great Britain. That same year, on the west coast, in what would later become Orange County, St. Junípero Serra led the Spanish colonial government in the establishment of Mission San Juan Capistrano in the name of King Carlos III of Spain. Between these two events were thousands of miles of territory that were, at the time, relatively undisturbed by Europeans. Only seventy-two years later, however, these opposite coasts and their independent histories would connect when the Southwest became a part of the United States in 1848 following the Mexican-American War.

               Prior to 1848, a small group of citizens from the United States had already made their way to California. Most of them were crew members from ships trading for cattle hides. One notable example was Richard Henry Dana, the famous author of a memoir, Two Years Before the Mast, and honored in the naming of the city of Dana Point. Another was Alfred Robinson, a Bostonian merchant who married into the prominent De la Guerra family of Santa Barbara. He later published the first version of Father Gerónimo Boscana’s ethnological treatise of the Indians from around Mission San Juan Capistrano, under the title Chinigchinich, in 1846. These men, and most of the others in California who were from the United States prior to 1848, arrived during California’s Mexican Period (1821-1848), when officials from the newly formed country of Mexico encouraged trading cattle hides with foreign ships carrying goods along the coast. But the first documented people from the United States in California go back even further into the Spanish colonial era California (1769-1821). The goal of this article is to determine when the earliest visitors from the United States set foot in today’s Orange County and to tell their story.

               Often overlooked in the history of Spanish Colonial California was the illicit hunting of otter. The high prices paid in China for otter furs lured foreign traders to the coast to hunt them. While the Spanish colonial government resisted these unwelcomed visitors, the Spanish Californians themselves took advantage of the opportunity to covertly trade for foreign goods brought by the hunters in their ships. The otter therefore played a key role as the first medium of exchange that brought California to the attention of foreign traders. The emergence of foreign trading ships set off the sequence of events that led to California’s eventual prominence in world trade, especially with Asia. And in the early 1800s, under colorful circumstance, the otter trade also brought the first U.S. citizens to visit what would later become Orange County.

Before the Cattle Hides

               It’s difficult today to understand just how remote and isolated California was to the rest of the world during its Spanish colonial era. Spanish authorities were unable to establish a reliable overland route to California from Mexico, making the entire province almost entirely dependent on annual supply ships to support the missions, presidios (forts), and pueblos (Los Angeles and San José). Furthermore, Spain was still firmly committed to the economic philosophy of mercantilism, generally making it illegal for colonists in California to trade with foreign ships.

               With Spanish California so isolated from the rest of the world, one may wonder what could entice vessels from the United States to make the treacherous journey of many thousands of miles around Cape Horn and then far to the north to the coast of California. The answer begins in China.

In the late eighteenth century, the fur of sea-otters became popular with the Chinese elite, both as a practical material for clothing (it was very warm) and as a status symbol. Chinese aristocrats wore capes, belts, sashes, and mittens made of otter fur. A single fir could command between eighty and a hundred and twenty dollars, making sea-otters a profitable target for hunters.[1] One of the premier locations to hunt otter was the northern California coast, but otter were also found along the coast of Southern California, including today’s Orange County.

               After learning of the high prices being paid for otter pelts in China, Spanish merchants attempted to coordinate with the Spanish colonial government to establish a profitable trade arrangement, but several issues arose. Spanish colonial authorities disagreed over how the pelts should be collected, distributed, and who deserved the profits. Colonial officials in Manila in the Philippines maintained a monopoly over all Spanish trade in Asia, putting their interests in-between the merchants collecting the pelts and the buyers in China. This legal arrangement increased the cost of business and was an inconvenience to the merchants who desired to deal directly with buyers in Asia. A complex pricing schedule for the pelts themselves was set by colonial authorities to compensate the soldiers, Indians, and missionaries who coordinated to acquire them in California, but inconsistencies abounded. Soldiers were often compensated more than the Indians who collected the pelts, causing the missionaries to complain. By the time the Spanish colonial government finally got around to addressing these problems, foreign merchants had already worked their way into the otter trade and taken control of the market.

               At first, most of the foreign merchants competing with the Spanish were British. The British explorer Captain James Cook had noted the value of otter pelts found along the coast of the Pacific Northwest during his third voyage of discovery in the years 1776-1780. In the wake of the publication of his journals, British merchant ships with the support of the British government began frequenting the waters of the northwest coast in search of otter. Spanish authorities were alarmed by the increasing presence of British ships in the northern Pacific and challenged them on the grounds that the Pacific Northwest was Spanish territory. In 1789, the tensions grew into an international incident when four British merchant ships were seized by the Spanish at an outpost in the Nootka Sound, setting off what was later dubbed the Nootka Crisis. The resulting Nootka Convention lead to Spain relinquishing its grasp on the Pacific Northwest. Soon thereafter, there was a significant increase in foreign merchant vessels participating in the otter trade along the northwest coast.

               It wasn’t long until merchant ships from the United States, unburdened by the need to form complex arrangements with their government, to begin participating in the otter trade. In the closing years of the eighteenth century, the hunting grounds along the northwest coast became crowded with competing traders from Russia and the United States, causing relations with the local Indians to sour as they became increasingly defensive against intrusions into their foraging grounds. While otter were not as plentiful in Spanish California as the northwest coast, enterprising Americans considered how they could circumvent Spanish colonial policy against trade with foreigners to hunt the otter there. It wasn’t long until they found an effective strategy.

               Spanish Californians were famous for their hospitality. Previous explorers, including the Frenchman Jean François de Galaup, comte de Lapérouse, who visited Monterey in 1786, and the British explorer George Vancouver, who visited Spanish California in 1792 and 1793, each praised the warm reception and hospitality provided by the Spanish Californians. Publication of their remarks was shared far and wide and similar experiences of other seamen were passed along via word of mouth. Sailors in the United States may have even learned of the accommodating nature of Spanish Californians from a couple of Americans who had joined the Spanish Naval Department of San Blas, which was responsible for delivering California's outposts supplies. One of them, John Kendrick Jr., rose to the rank of second pilot in the Spanish Navy in the early 1790s. Another, Joseph O’Cain, went on to become one of the most important otter hunters from the United States along the California coast.

               The standard approach that emerged among foreign vessels seeking otter in California was to skirt along the coast to obtain skins through hunts or trade with local Indians. When they came upon Spanish settlements, which were always close to the best anchorages, Spanish soldiers were often waiting to investigate the reason for their presence. The hunters would send a boat ashore to tell the soldiers fabricated stories of being dangerously low on supplies due to great storms or other unfortunate mishaps. True to their reputation, the Spanish military leaders would usually allow for the ships to anchor and for their crews to rest and recoup. The “struggling” crews were then often provided water, food, and wood. After replenishing their supplies and recouping from the tiresome exercise of spinning yarns, the crews would depart on their ships and continue their journey skipping along the coast obtaining otter pelts until coming upon another Spanish settlement where they could put on a new performance. It can even be said that otter hunters from the United States were the first compensated actors in the history of California.

For a brief few years at the very end of the 1700s, trade between Spain and the United States was made legal by the King of Spain in order to buffer supplies while Spain was at war with England. This led to an increase in vessels from the United States visiting California. The first recorded vessel from the United States that may have hunted otter along the coast of Orange County was the brig Garland, which sailed from Boston in March of 1797 and skipped down the coast from Northern California to Mexico in November of 1798. The next year the ship Eliza, captained by James Rowan, sailed a similar route from San Francisco to Mexico from May to June, perhaps stopping along the coast of Orange County to hunt otter. In the year 1800, the brigantine Betsy sailed from Boston and may have also made a stop or two along today’s Orange County while sailing along the coast of California that August and September.[2]

 

The ship Boston at Nootka Sound in 1803. Ships like this one brought the first people from the United States to the coast of California around the year 1800. (Huntington Free Library)

 

The Alexander

               The first definite record of a ship from the United States anchoring in San Juan Bay (today’s Dana Point) was the Alexander, captained by one John Brown and piloted by George Washington Eayers, who would go on to have a very interesting story in California.[3] The ship had quite a back story by the time it reached San Juan Bay. It had sailed from Boston in 1802 and, after a long trip around the Horn, anchored in San Diego in February of 1803. The ship was met by the commander of the San Diego Presidio, Manuel Rodríguez. Even by this early date, Rodríguez had learned enough about Yankee traders to be suspicious of their intentions. When Captain Brown told a sob story about his “scurvy-stricken” crew, Rodríguez allowed the ship to anchor, but maintained a very careful night watch.[4] Several days passed and, sure enough, rumors that otter pelts had been smuggled aboard reached Rodríguez. When he boarded the Alexander with four soldiers to investigate, he found 491 pelts stowed away. He ordered the pelts to be taken to the presidio warehouse while he tried to determine who had sold them to Captain Brown.

As it turned out, Commander Rodríguez was fighting an uphill battle. His fellow Spanish Californians were far too aware of the potential profits from trading otter pelts for money or goods to pass on the opportunity to do so. Some of the individuals who were implicated in selling contraband were high ranking men in the military and the missionaries. In the case of the Alexander, Corporal Onofre Villalva of the San Diego Presidio admitted to being involved when he wrote to the governor of Spanish California to ask if “he could retrieve the 223 otter skins that he pretended to sell” to Captain Brown.[5] Soon thereafter, the “missionary of San Luis Rey,” who was almost certainly Father Antonio Peyrí, wrote to Rodríguez asking for the “170 otter pelts” that were sold to Captain Brown “by mission Indians” to be returned.[6] Rodríguez was stuck between his orders from Mexico City to prevent foreign trade and the apparent desire to trade with foreigners among some of the most respected members of his province. He remained loyal to his colonial superiors, but in the case of the otter pelts obtained from the Alexander, the process of sorting out the legal responsibility for what had occurred took so long that all of the valuable otter pelts spoiled and were dispensed with in the ocean.[7]

Captain Brown and the Alexander were now in a race against Commander Rodríguez. Brown had the advantage of being in a sailing ship while Rodríguez had to send soldiers by horse up and down California to give warning about Brown’s true intentions. Sure enough, the Alexander anchored in Todos Santos Bay in Baja California where Brown requested wood and animals. The corporal at the local Spanish settlement denied the request, having received word from Rodríguez of what had occurred in San Diego. Brown then continued south to try to stay ahead of Rodríguez.

Meanwhile, another ship from the United States, the Lelia Bird, arrived in San Diego in March of 1803. Rodríguez was now more than suspicious of vessels from the United States, and when he determined that its crew, too, was only attempting to obtain otter pelts, he made a move to prevent them from being able to obtain contraband. In response, the Lelia Bird made a hasty retreat from San Diego while trading cannon fire with the guns of Fort Guijarros, which was located on the point of the same name. While the Lelia Bird took some damage, it was able to sail south and, for the time being, steer clear of Alta California and Commander Rodríguez.

By this time, however, Rodríguez was fed up and started warning every mission within the jurisdiction of the San Diego Presidio, including Mission San Juan Capistrano, to turn visiting ships from the United States away. It wasn’t long until his orders were put to the test. In early June of 1803, Captain Brown and the Alexander appeared in San Juan Bay after bypassing San Diego on the way back north. At the time, the ship could be seen from the mission itself and the missionaries of Mission San Juan Capistrano, Fathers Juan Norberto Santiago and Jose Faura, had to decide of what to do. It seems that the corporal of the guard, who was likely José María Verdugo, and some of the other soldiers met the launch from the ship, which probably landed on today’s Doheney State Beach.[8] Even if the Spanish authorities had changed their strategy, Captain Brown continued to use the same tricks. He once again passed along that the ship needed “supplies and water.”[9] While it’s clear that the soldiers would have been directed by Rodríguez to deny such requests, it’s unknown if they followed orders. The ship remained anchored for a couple days, suggesting that Captain Brown was able to obtain something of interest, either in the form of supplies, contraband trade, or otter hunts along Dana Point. Whatever he acquired, it was enough for him to sail the Alexander back to San Juan Bay just a couple of months later in August, following a visit to the Pacific Northwest.[10] From there, the ship sailed all the way to China to sell its furs.

 

A leather-jacket soldier in Alta California in the 1790s. Soldiers with the same uniform were responsible for preventing ships from the United States from hunting otter or trade along the coast of today’s Orange County during the mission era. (José Cardero Sketch, Museo de América)

 

The Hazard and the Lelia Bird

               Prior to the Alexander’s second trip to San Juan Bay in about August of 1803, it had anchored in San Francisco Bay along with the Hazard, another otter hunting ship captained by James Rowan and originally from Providence, Rhode Island. Rowan had also been the captain of the Eliza, which sailed along the coast of California in 1799. The Hazard had just arrived to San Francisco from the northwest coast. Its trip so far had been fraught with problems. It had sailed as far as Macao, where Rowan took on one John “Debbes” as pilot, and his wife, Mary Joseph “Ebata,” who was about twenty-five years old. From Macao, they sailed to Hawaii and thence to the northwest coast. While in Nootka, John Debbes was killed by Indians, leaving Mary Ebata alone on the ship. Following Debbes’ death, Rowan apparently named his brother, John Rowan, as the new pilot.[11]

In San Francisco, it seems Captain Brown of the Alexander informed Captain Rowan that otter were plentiful along the coast of California south of San Francisco. He also passed along his strategy of feigning mishaps to win the good graces of the Spanish Californians along the way. Rowan took Brown’s advice and sailed the Hazard south.

               When the Hazard came to anchor at various points along the coast, Captain Rowan ordered the crew to tell any Spanish soldiers who came to meet them that they were low on water and firewood, or that they were sick and ailing from fierce combat with Indians along the northwest coast, or that the ship was damaged. But after pulling his scheme in Santa Barbara, Rowan got cold feet when the commander of the presidio there, Raymundo Carrillo, permitted only enough crew ashore to obtain wood and water. Rowan sailed the Hazard southward with no apparent success in the trade of contraband or hunting otter from Santa Barbara to San Pedro.

               Captain Rowan’s next stop was San Juan Bay, where the Hazard anchored on September 1, 1803. When he ordered the launch ashore, it was met by Corporal Joaquín Osuña. Fearing that Commander Carrillo sent word south of his scheme, Rowan claimed that his ship was not the Hazard, but instead the Eliza, which he had captained along the coast of California in 1799. He told the corporal the now familiar story of mishaps and claimed that he and his crew needed water and firewood. The corporal wrote to his superior, Commander Rodríguez, to seek guidance. This bought Rowan time, who was likely able to send men ashore at Dana Point to get fresh water and firewood from San Juan Creek. It’s also possible that he sent men to hunt otter, or trade for pelts from the locals.

               Everything changed late into the night of September 2. Under a bright full moon, three young sailors and a woman suddenly “appeared to the Corporal Joaquín Osuña at the guard house,” having made their way through the cold surf and onshore winds and then walked the two-mile-long trail to reach the mission.[12] They told Osuña that they brought the woman to leave her at the mission because “she was going to cause the crew to mutiny.” Osuña refused, leading to a tense argument in which Osuña learned that the woman’s presence aboard the ship was causing the crew to quarrel over her well-being. Finally, the sailors said that “if she wasn’t allowed to remain, they would leave her among the gentiles [Indians] on the local islands [Santa Catalina or San Clemente].” Osuña couldn’t allow this to happen and wrote to Commander Rodríguez after the event that he was “forced to take her, and placed her in the house of a soldier.”[13] By this time, some of the married soldiers of the guard lived in adobes separate from the guard house with their families. The surviving adobes along Rios Street may have been used such a purpose. In any case, Osuña likely thought she’d be relatively safe staying with one of the soldier-families.

               The woman’s name was Mary Josephine “Ebata,” which may have been a phonetic Spanish spelling of the surname “Abbott.” The local Spanish authorities soon learned that in the midst of her mourning the loss of her husband, the pilot of the ship, John Rowan, had been making advances towards her. Mary Ebata resisted, causing divisions among the crew and prompting Captain Rowan to determine it best to leave her ashore.[14] One can only imagine the feelings of despair and abandonment she felt during her time at San Juan Capistrano. She likely thought about whether or not she’d ever again see her mother, father, and two children in Boston again. She also probably wondered how she would tell her two children that their father was dead. All the while, her fellow countrymen were anchored in San Juan Bay, preparing to depart.

Ebata’s Spanish hosts almost certainly showed her their famous hospitality. It seems she was fed corn, beans, and veal, and was served a “fine chocolate” drink, which was a favorite among the colonists.[15] She was unable to speak any Spanish, and the Spanish officials mentioned that she displayed an “arrogantly superior attitude.”[16] Given all she had already gone through, and the many challenges that lay ahead, it’s possible that she was dismissive to her hosts as a result of her circumstances more than her character.

Commander Rodríguez sent his response to Corporal Osuña as soon as he could, and a relay of messengers upon horseback raced seemingly through the night to reach Mission San Juan Capistrano the next day. Not surprisingly, Rodríguez ordered Osuña to command Captain Rowan to take Mary Ebata back aboard, “even if taken like a prisoner,” and to depart from California immediately.[17] By the time the letter reached San Juan Capistrano on September 4, however, Rowan and the Hazard had sailed away. Shortly thereafter, Mary Ebata was taken to the San Diego Presidio. From San Diego, Spanish colonial authorities arranged for her to sail to the port of San Blas on the western coast of Mexico in late 1803. While there, she became so ill as to meet with a parish priest in the case that she may die. She regained her health, however, and continued on to Mexico City and then to Vera Cruz, where she took a ship to Havana in the middle of 1804.[18] She was likely able to sail all the way back to the United States of America at some time later that year. It’s a credit to the Spanish government for assisting her and paying for her passage back. Her story is nothing short of extraordinary and one can only hope that she was able to reunite with her parents and children.

               Following its stop in San Juan Bay, the Hazard sailed south to San Diego. Commander Rodriguez again tried to get Rowan to take Mary Ebata back aboard, but to no avail. From there, the Hazard turned north and sailed to northern California again, possibly stopping along the coast of Orange County en route. From northern California, the ship sailed to the Hawaiian Islands, reaching them by December of 1803. Captain Rowan anchored the Hazard in the port of Waimea where he met with Kaumuali’i, the ruler of the islands of Kaua’I and Ni’ihau. It seems Kaumuali’i’s wanted his young son, Humehume, to get an education in America.[19] In any case, the Hazard then made its way back to the northwest coast and California to hunt otter. It had now been a year since its last trip down the coast and Captain Rowan made all of the same stops. This time, however, the Spanish authorities made it clear to every soldier and missionary in the province not to trust any ship attempting to anchor due to unfortunate circumstances.

               On September 3, 1804, Captain Rowan once again sailed the Hazard into San Juan Bay. The fact that he returned suggests that he was able to obtain something of value during his visit a year earlier, besides leaving Mary Ebata ashore. The corporal had by this time learned a lot about the ship and reported to Commander Rodríguez at the San Diego Presidio that it was “Captained by James Rowan, weighs 400 tons, and has 22 cannons and 60 crew members.”[20] Rowan again requested supplies, but the corporal apparently demurred and reported to Rodríguez that he finally “ordered four soldiers to inform the captain [Rowan] that the supplies he requested would not be provided, and upon doing so the captain set sail.”[21] It’s unclear how long it took the corporal to respond to Rowan’s request because the Hazard was in San Juan Bay until September 5 or even a day later. The two or three days’ stay in San Juan Bay afforded Rowan and his crew plenty of time to make otter hunts along Dana Point. There was again ample time for occupants of the mission to take advantage of the rare opportunity to trade for exotic goods from across the sea. Humehume, who was only about seven years old at the time, may have watched the events that transpired from the deck. He would go on to join the United States Marine Corps and see action in the War of 1812 on the ship USS Wasp. From San Juan Bay, the Hazard sailed south to Baja California before making its way to China and finally back to Rhode Island.

By the time the Hazard departed, San Juan Bay had become a regular stopping place for ships hunting otter or seeking contraband trade. At some time in 1804, the ship Lelia Bird, which had the year before traded cannon fire with the Spanish from the castillo on Point Guijarros, stopped at San Juan Bay. While there, its captain, William Shaler, wrote the very first description of San Juan Capistrano published in the United States:

 

“About thirty-five miles down the coast [from San Pedro] stands San Juan Capistrano, close to the sea shore, where there is safe anchorage and good landing nine months in the year. The situation of this mission is very romantic and delightful : in a charming valley, thickly shaded with fine trees, through which runs a fine stream of water. I learnt few particulars respecting the mission of San Juan, but they say it is not inferior in wealth to any in California.”[22]

 

His description was already the second to describe San Juan Capistrano as “romantic,” with British explorer George Vancouver’s description of San Juan Bay and Mission San Juan Capistrano being the first.[23] Shaler also hinted at another reason ships would anchor in San Juan Bay; to obtain water. By this point, any ships from the United States sailing along the California coast knew San Juan Bay and its mission well. The frequency of ships stopping there is enough to consider the possibility that the mission’s rich resources were being traded for foreign goods.

 

The Peacock

By the late eighteenth century, it was relatively common for sailors to join the navies of countries other than their own. One example was a Bostonian merchant, Joseph O’Cain, who joined the Spanish Naval Department of San Blas located on the west coast of Mexico. He was the pilotín habilitado, or paymaster, of the Sutil, one of two ships that had together been sent by Spain on a scientific expedition of the Pacific Ocean under Alejandro Malaspina in 1791-1792. He was along the coast of California in 1795 and was also one of the owners of the Betsy, which may have sailed along the coast of Orange County in 1800. After another trip of otter hunting as the supercargo of the Enterprise in 1801-1802, he came to understand that the otter trade in California was severely hampered by the need to find Spanish missionaries and soldiers willing to engage in contraband trade. As an enterprising and ambitious seaman, O’Cain used his many monotonous hours at sea to hatch a plan. While there were plenty of sailors in the United States who could make voyages to the otter fields, the sailors were not skilled in hunting otter. What if, O’Cain, wondered, he made a deal with the Russians in Alaska to provide Sun’aq Indians from the Kodiak to do the hunting along the coast of California, and then O’Cain and the Russians could split the spoils? In 1803, O’Cain took his ship, creatively named the O’Cain, and sailed to the Kodiak in Alaska where he was able to persuade the head of the Russian American Company, Alexander Baranov, to agree to the deal. The trip was successful, yielding a modest profit for both O’Cain and Baranov.[24]

O’Cain returned home to Boston where he convinced his brother-in-law, Oliver Kimball, to make a trip to California to work with him in the otter trade. O’Cain now had three ships in his otter hunting enterprise. He captained the ship Eclipse; his friend and fellow sailor on his last journey to California, Jonathan Winship Jr., captained the O’Cain; and Kimball captained a smaller brig, the Peacock, weighing 108 tons and carrying 14-18 crew and eight guns.[25] After departing from Boston in the fall of 1805, all three ships reached the northern Pacific by early 1806. After rendezvousing in the Hawaiian Islands, Winship sailed the O’Cain for Sitka to make a deal with Baranov and the Russians to pick up Kodiak Indians to hunt otter along the coast of California. It seems O’Cain followed suit, sailing the Eclipse from Hawaii to Sitka to make a similar deal. Interestingly, Kimball sailed the Peacock straight for the southern coast of California, arriving in San Pedro Bay on March 19, 1806. While his predecessors made up reasons for needing supplies along the coast, perhaps the Peacock really did experience trouble that prevented it from sailing to Sitka along with the Eclipse and O’Cain.

At San Pedro, the Peacock was either spotted by Indians or sentries, or Kimball’s crew informed Spanish soldiers who met them that their vessel had “a broken mast and lack of water, wood, and meat.”[26] In any case, the Peacock was observed from shore sailing southward towards the outlet of the Santa Ana River, perhaps seeking freshwater. When word reached Commander Rodríguez at the San Diego Presidio, he took a different approach than he had taken before. After years of dealing with illegal trade, he likely felt the need to tighten his control over the settlements under his jurisdiction. The Spaniards and Indians living in the missions had already given Rodríguez plenty of reasons to be suspicious of them. On March 27, Rodríguez ordered Sergeant José Pico, the patriarch of the famous Pico family of California, and some soldiers northward to investigate the Peacock’s presence and to prevent its crew from hunting otter or attempting to trade along the coast.

On about March 29, 1806, after riding all the way from San Diego, Pico and the soldiers reached the outlet of the Santa Ana River, near today’s Huntington Beach, but saw no ship there.[27] Profiting from information provided by observers along the coast, or acting on instinct, Pico and the soldiers rode southward through today’s Costa Mesa to see if the ship’s crew were seeking fresh water or hunting otter along the coast at the base of the San Joaquin Hills. Their search paid off, and it was reported that Pico and the soldiers “encountered it [the ship] in a small inlet on the sea in a place called las Ranas.” The Spanish place name “las Ranas (the frogs)” was used to describe the back bay of Newport Beach, because its resident frogs could often be heard by travelers passing through.[28] The Peacock was therefore anchored, it seems, in today’s Newport Harbor. Given that the back bay appears as an outlet for a major river, Kimball and the crew may have indeed been seeking water. They could have also been hunting otter or trading for pelts from the local Indians from the nearby village of Gengaa, which stood along the bluffs overlooking the back bay.

In any case, Pico and the soldiers observed the Peacock sailing south towards San Clemente and Santa Catalina Islands on March 30. Pico figured that the Peacock might then make its way to San Juan Bay, so he and his troops went to Mission San Juan Capistrano and waited. After several days of keeping a close watch of the bay, perhaps from the mission out-building now known as the Pryor Adobe, Pico and the soldiers returned to the San Diego Presidio.[29]

As it turned out, they just missed the Peacock. On April 3, an Indian looking out to sea from somewhere around Dana Point, saw the vessel sailing near the coast of San Juan Bay. He immediately went to the mission to inform the corporal of the guard, likely José Cristóbol Domínguez.[30] The corporal devised a plan along with the other soldiers of the guard, possibly including Leonardo Duarte, José Lujan, and Juan Peralta, to apprehend any crew from the vessel who landed ashore.[31] Sure enough, Kimball sent four crewmembers on a launch in an attempt to obtain supplies. They included the vessel’s navigator, Thomas Kilvain of Boston; the second quartermaster, a Frenchman named Jean Pierre; and two other Bostonian crew members, spelled phonetically by the Spanish as Blas Limcamk and Blas Yame.[32] After landing ashore, probably upon today’s Doheney State Beach, two of these men, likely Kilvain and Pierre, who acted as translator, made their way toward the mission, each armed with a rifle and cartridges.[33] When they encountered the soldiers from San Juan Capistrano, they claimed that their ship and crew were in desperate need of supplies. The corporal and soldiers immediately apprehended and imprisoned them at the mission, probably in or near today’s soldiers’ barracks. The soldiers of the mission guard were then ordered to the beach where they found the two other crew members near the launch, who were also apprehended and imprisoned at the mission.

 

The Spanish Malaspina expedition from 1791-1792 explored the western coast of North America. It was composed of two ships, the Sutil and Mexicana. The Boston sailor Joseph O’Cain was the pilotín habilitado, or paymaster, of the Sutil and was responsible for the otter hunting expedition that brought some of the first citizens from the United States to today’s Orange County. This sketch was made by the expedition’s artist, José Cardero, in British Columbia. (Museo Naval)

 

After Commander Rodríguez learned that four prisoners were held at the mission, he ordered Sergeant Pico and four soldiers on April 11 to return back to San Juan Capistrano to escort them to the San Diego Presidio.[34] In the meantime, six armed men from the Peacock were observed coming ashore to retrieve the launch left behind by Kilvain and the crew. Soon after, the Peacock sailed away and rendezvoused at some point south with O’Cain in the Eclipse and Winship in the O’Cain. O’Cain himself did everything he could to retrieve Kilvain and the other prisoners in San Diego, going so far as to capture five Spanish soldiers near today’s Ensenada and releasing them only after threatening to destroy San Diego if the prisoners weren’t freed. Soon after, however, O’Cain himself had five crew members captured by Spanish soldiers near San José del Cabo Bay and was unable to retrieve the prisoners in San Diego.[35] Governor Arrillaga later claimed that Kilvain and the prisoners “had already been shackled, and they will be taken to San Blas.”[36] Nothing else is known of their story.

The story of the Peacock is an interesting event in the history of Orange County if only because it represents another major “first” for the county. The Peacock is the earliest recorded vessel to anchor in today’s Newport Harbor, over sixty years before the flat-bottomed steamer Vaquero was able to make its way into the small sandy “bay” and setting off the chain of events that would lead to the building of McFadden’s Landing and the beginnings of today’s Newport Beach.[37] The Peacock should also be remembered because three of its crew, Thomas Kilvain, “Blas Limcamk,” and “Blas Yame,” became the second earliest known citizens of the United States to have set foot in Orange County. Their imprisonment at Mission San Juan Capistrano also occurred just five months before the dedication of the Great Stone Church in September of 1806. They most certainly looked upon the nearly completed church and the extensive mission buildings and agricultural developments with some level of awe since the mission was at its peak of development at the time.

 

This sketch of Mission San Juan Capistrano by archaeologist Jack Williams shows how the mission approximately appeared when some of the first citizens of the United States visited it in 1803 and 1806, just before the Great Stone Church was completed. (Courtesy of Jack Williams)

 

The First U.S. Americans in Orange County

The first recorded U.S. Americans in today’s Orange County were Mary Josephine “Ebata” of the ship Hazard in 1803, followed by Thomas Kilvain, “Blas Limcamk,” and “Blas Yame” of the Peacock in 1806. All of them set foot in the county during the Lewis and Clark Expedition’s famous journey to the Pacific. Their visits at such an early date can be attributed to the geographical situation of Orange County during a period of growing economic reliance between the Americas and Asia. Their presence in California was the beginning of a growing recognition within the newly formed United States of America that the Pacific coast was rich in resources and strategically situated to access lucrative markets. Their stories can be interpreted as the earliest momentum that accumulated into the call of “Manifest Destiny” that prompted the United States to seek every opportunity to extend its boundaries to the Pacific.

While the stories of other prominent citizens from the United States in today’s Orange County prior to 1848 are tied to the cattle hide trade, it should be remembered that it was the otter that brought the first citizens of the United States to the county. The otter trade, too, was fueled by a market with China, California’s neighbor across the Pacific, foreshadowing the now-important economic reliance California and China have on one-another via gigantic steel container ships. In this context, the otter trade in the early 1800s and today’s trade across the Pacific also share another important lesson. Although the otter hunters from the United States were able to capitalize on free trade practices to gain the upper hand in the otter trade across the Pacific, the otter themselves were hunted to near extinction along the coast of Orange County. A somewhat analogous story is now playing out across the Pacific. Although lucrative, today’s trade continues to accumulate costs from externalities and complex economic entanglements. Fortunately, the occasional otter is again making its appearance along the coast of Orange County, perhaps serving as a symbol of hope that solutions can be found to mitigate the emerging challenges from today’s trade across the Pacific. If you are fortunate enough to see one, it’s worth remembering that the otter played an important part in our history, bringing the first citizens from the United States to what would later become Orange County.

 

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Chris Jepsen for editing this article and to Maria Brandt for her assistance in the research!

 

Bibliography

Cleland, Robert G. The Irvine Ranch. The Huntington Library. San Marino California, 2003.

Friis, Leo J. Orange County Through Four Centuries. Pioneer Press. Santa Ana, California, 1965.

Geiger, Maynard J. Franciscan Missionaries in Hispanic California, 1769-1848, A Biographical Dictionary. San Marino: The Huntington Library, 1969.

Gibson, James R. California through Russian Eyes, 1806-1848. The Arthur H. Clark Company, an imprint of the University of Oklahoma Press. Norman, Oklahoma, 2013.

Las Californias. Berkeley: The Bancroft Library. Originals in the Archivo General y Público de la Nación, Mexico City.

Miller, Robert R. Miller, A Yankee Smuggler on the Spanish Coast: George Washington Eayers and the Ship Mercury. Santa Barbara Trust for Historic Preservation. Santa Barbara, California, 2001.

Ogden, Adele. The California Sea Otter Trade,1784-1848. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1975.

Provincial State Papers (PSP). Berkeley: The Bancroft Library.

Provincial Records. Berkeley: The Bancroft Library.

Polich, J. (Spring, 1983). Joseph Burling O’Cain in Spanish California. Southern California Quarterly, 95-106.

Saddleback Ancestors: Rancho Families of Orange County California – Revised Edition. Orange County Genealogical Society. 1998.

Shaler, W. (1808). The American Register, or General Repository of History, Politics and Science Part 1 for 1808 (Vol. 3). Philadelphia: C. & A. Conrad.

Spoehr, Anne H. (1981). George Prince Tamoree: Heir Apparent of Kauai and Niihau. Hawaiian Journal of History, 31-50.

Vancouver, George. A Voyage of Discovery to the North Pacific Ocean and Round the World Vol. II. London: G. G. and J. Robinson, Paternoster-Row; and J. Edwards, Pall-Mall, 1798.

 


[1] Ogden, California Sea Otter Trade 1784-1848, 6.

[2] Garland 1798 Brig 21 crew, 6 guns, captain Bazilla Worth, owners, at Boston; Left Boston in March, 1797, and November 6 was off the coast of Northern California and by November 16 off Todos Santos Bay. Eliza 1799 Ship 159 tons, 24-36 crew, 12 guns, Captain James Bowan. May 24, off San Francisco and June 15, San Blas. Betsy 1800 Brigantine 104 tons 19 crew 10 guns, Captain Charles Winship, owners Abiel Winship and Joseph O’Cain, Boston. August 24-September 4, possibly along the coast of OC. See Ogden, California Sea Otter Trade 1784-1848, 156-157.

[3] For the story of the seizing of George Washington Eayers’ ship and his imprisonment in California, see Miller, A Yankee Smuggler on the Spanish Coast: George Washington Eayers and the Ship Mercury.

[4] Ogden, California Sea Otter Trade 1784-1848, 36.

[5] Provincial State Papers XVIII, C-A 11, 264.

[6] Provincial Records XII, C-A 26, 20. Father Peyrí was the primary missionary at Mission San Luis Rey and gave numerous indications of being progressively minded throughout his more than thirty years at Mission San Luis Rey. It would not be surprising if he was personally involved in trying to sell the otter pelts in order to benefit the neophytes at his mission. See Geiger, Franciscan Missionaries in Hispanic California, 192-196.

[7] Ogden, California Sea Otter Trade 1784-1848, 192.

[8] José María Verdugo appears in the mission’s baptismal registers as late as July 5, 1802, and no other corporal could be found listed in any of the registers through the next year, 1803 (SJC Baptism #2127). Two of the other soldiers in the guard at the time seem to have been Mariano Domínguez (SJC Baptism #2236) and José María Valenzuela (SJC Baptism #2245). Early California Population Project, from here on identified as the ECPP.

[9] Provincial Records XII, C-A 26, 21. “June 6…Enterado de llegada a San Juan Capistrano de la Fragata Americana Alexander, en solicitud de viveres y aguada.”

[10] Ogden, California Sea Otter Trade 1784-1848, 158.

[11] Manuel Rodríguez to Governor Arrillaga, September 9, 1803. Las Californias, Bancroft M-A 1, Carton 2, Folder 0099.

[12] Manuel Rodríguez to Governor Arrillaga, September 9, 1803. Las Californias, Bancroft M-A 1, Carton 2, Folder 0099.

[13] It’s possible that the soldier was Francisco Serrano, who was retired and then living at the mission with his pregnant wife, María Balbaneda Silvas. Their son, José Antonio Serrano, was born in April of 1804. He would later be the grantee of Rancho Cañada de los Alisos in 1842. See SJC Baptism #2274. ECCP.

[14] Benito Vivero y Escaño to José Yturrigaray, Interrogation of Mary Josepha Ebata. Las Californias, Bancroft M-A 1, Carton 2, Folder 0099.

[15] Receipt for provisions. Las Californias, Bancroft M-A 1, Carton 2, Folder 0099.

[16] Benito Vivero y Escaño to José Yturrigaray, Interrogation of Mary Josepha Ebata. Las Californias, Bancroft M-A 1, Carton 2, Folder 0099.

[17] Manuel Rodríguez to Governor Arrillaga, September 9, 1803. Las Californias, Bancroft M-A 1, Carton 2, Folder 0099 and Ogden, California Sea Otter Trade 1784-1848, 39-41.

[18] Las Californias, Bancroft M-A 1, Carton 2, Folder 0099.

[19] Kaumuali’I’s wife may have also encouraged his decision to do so because she wanted to clear the way for her son to be in a better position in the line of succession.

[20] Rodríguez to the Corporals of the Guards of San Miguel and Santo Tomas, September 6, 1804. Provincial State Papers XVIII, C-A 11, 333.

[21] Rodríguez to Governor Arrillaga, September 8, 1804. Provincial State Papers XVIII, C-A 11, 364-365.

[22] Shaler, The American Register, 155.


[23] The British explorer, George Vancouver, conducted an expedition of the Pacific in the first half of the 1790s. On Tuesday, November 26, 1793, the expedition’s ships passed San Juan Bay on their way to San Diego. Vancouver recorded that this “mission [San Juan Capistrano] is very pleasantly situated in a grove of trees, whose luxuriant and diversified foliage, when contrasted with the adjacent shores, gave it a most romantic appearance; having the ocean in front, and being bounded on its other sides by rugged dreary mountains, where the vegetation was not sufficient to hide the naked rocks, of which the country in this point of view seemed to be principally composed. The buildings of the mission were of brick and of stone, arid in their vicinity the soil appeared to be of uncommon and striking fertility. It was founded in the year 1776, and is in latitude 33°29', longitude 242°35'. The landing on the beach in the cove seemed to be good; and had it not been for the very favorable gale with which we were now indulged, I should have been tempted to have passed a few hours at this very enchanting place.” Vancouver, A Voyage of Discovery, 467-468.

[24] John Polich, Joseph Burling O’Cain in Spanish California, 95-100.

[25] Ogden, California Sea Otter Trade, 160.

[26] Ogden, California Sea Otter Trade, 47.

[27] Rodríguez to Arrillaga, April 30, 1806. Rodríguez’ comment suggests that the course of the Santa Ana River emptied into the Pacific north of Huntington Beach. Provincial State Papers XIX, C-A 12, 174.

[28] Retired Lieutenant Juan Pablo Grijalva was living in the San Diego Presidio when he made a petition for what later became the Rancho Santiago de Santa Ana, stretching on the east side of the Santa Ana River from its bend to the south near the intersection of the 55 and 91 Freeways southward “towards Santiago” Creek and, from there, “towards the South unto ‘Ranas,’” referring to the back bay of Newport. During that time, the back bay could stretch all the way to Red Hill, which during the rancho era was referred to as Cerrito de las Ranas. See Saddleback Ancestors, 98 and Cleland, The Irvine Ranch, 21.

[29] Rodríguez to Arrillaga, April 30, 1806. Provincial State Papers XIX, C-A 12, 174.

[30] José Cristóbol Domínguez was recorded as the corporal of the guard when he was named as godfather in a baptism on August 18, 1807. SJC Baptism #2825. ECPP

[31] Leonardo Duarte was recorded as being a soldier in the guard on November 30, 1805. In the same record, the soldier Jose Lujan’s wife, Francisca Herrera was recorded as the godmother (SJC Baptism #2657). Lujan was recorded as having the rank of alférez (sub-lieutenant) and departing Alta California on August 5 1806. Provincial State Paper, XIX, 121. Juan Peralta was recorded as being a soldier in the guard on August 18, 1807 (SJC Baptism #2825). It cannot necessarily be proven that Duarte and Peralta were both present for the incident with the Peacock in April of 1806. ECPP

[32] Rodríguez to Arrillaga, May 4, 1806. The spelling for “Thomas Kilvain” and the identity of Jean Pierre were derived from a report by the Russian Imperial Chamberlain Nikolay Rezanov, who obtained the information from Governor Arrillaga during a visit to Alta California in 1806. Gibson, California Through Russian Eyes, 1806-1845, 62.

[33] Rodríguez to Arrillaga, May 4, 1806. Provincial State Papers XIX, C-A 12, 174-175.

[34] Rodríguez to Arrillaga, May 4, 1806. Provincial State Papers XIX, C-A 12, 174-175.

[35] John Polich, Joseph Burling O’Cain in Spanish California, 102.

[36] Learning that O’Cain was unsuccessful in saving the prisoners in San Diego, Rezanov wrote that he “congratulated the governor on the happy success of his orders, and this greatly pleased the kind old man.” Gibson, California Through Russian Eyes, 1806-1845, 62.