Fort McDowell on Angel Island
Sea, sun, and plants reclaim a former military outpost
by
The remnants of Angel Island's military base buildings have been partly preserved, and partly allowed to gracefully decay. Slowly, water and plants wear them down. Clearly, some kind of work is being put in to keep the structures from becoming so unsafe that they'd need to be completely fenced off. Last week I wrote about the acorn woodpeckers of Angel Island, and this week, I want to share some photos from my favorite ruins there, Fort McDowell East Garrison.
Weeds grow at the feet of the collonade. It's not exactly inviting, yet it draws me in.
Something about this rotting courtyard, and all these rusted and rotting and plant-choked buildings, reminds me of Canaan House in Gideon the Ninth. I get a creepy, uncanny feeling and as a result I want to look at it and photograph it.

The more you look, the more rot you see, like in this view up towards the rotting roof and dangerously rusting balconies.
There's even a monster under the stairs.
The stark patches sun make the dark pools of shadow feel deeper.
I think this might have been the mess hall, that is to say the place where the soldiers ate, based on the multiple vents in the roof.
An empty lamp still curves gracefully.
Each building is lovingly labelled with a sign about how unsafe it is. There are still a few that are maintained enough that you can go in, but none were open for visitors when I was there in late December.
The warning signs affixed to the various buildings around the Fort McDowell East Garrison are fresh and bright. To me they read as signs that someone cares.
Something about these late afternoon shadows draws me.
I suppose the sea air wears away the paint, leaving these beautiful textures. The stairs, disconnected and leading to nothing, remind me of the dangerous high places Gideon explored in Canaan House.
The glass is gone from the windows, and the metal frames that held it hang open.
A hawk perches on the corner.
This outbuilding was once used to stow ammunition, I think. It sill has a sign forbidding open flame. The road near it leads down to Quarry Beach.
The faded sign is nestled in sun-singed iceplant. Enough is left to warn anyone going to the beach that this one, like pretty much all beaches around San Francisco, has dangerous currents.
Written on the sand, "ALL EMPIRES END." I saw some people on the beach, all having fun in a group, and one of them wrote this in the sand with their toe. I'm sure the tide washed it away, not long after.