Author Richard Henry Dana described visiting San Pedro in 1835 in his memoir about life as a shipman -- Two Years Before The Mast.
The land was of a clayey quality, and as far as the eye could reach, entirely bare of trees and even shrubs; and there was no sign of a town -- not even a house to be seen.
What brought us into such a place, we could not conceive...we lay exposed to every wind that could blow, except the northerly winds...
We all agreed that it was the worst place we had seen yet.
Living there are three Englishmen whose ship ran aground. They'd ended up being employed to watch a small building where hides were stored for trading.
I also learned, to my surprise, that the desolate-looking place we were in furnished more hides than any port on the coast. It was the only port for a distance of eighty miles, and about thirty miles in the interior was a fine plane country, filled with herds of cattle, in the center of which was the Pueblo de los Angeles -- the largest town in California -- and several of the wealthiest missions; to all of which San Pedro was the seaport.
Remember, California didn't become part of the United States for another 14 years!
The captain orders them to lug their goods up the low, steep hill -- including heavy barrels and casks. Then they toss the bartered hides over the hill, and carry stacks of them on their heads, walking barefoot over the stones and into the water to protect their shoes.
While anchored in San Pedro bay, two men are flogged. The author spends a night alone on the beach, listening to owls and coyotes as he looks out to an island where a single Englishman was buried, "the commander of a small merchant brig, who died while lying in this port."
Had it been a common burying place, it would have been nothing. The single body corresponded well with the solitary character of everything around. It was the only spot in California that impressed me with anything like poetic interest.
Within several days the small crew had dispatched over 40 tons of goods. Though miserable on the ship, they console themselves with the proverb "That is a long lane which has no turning" -- and cast off for San Diego.
"Deadman's Island" was dredged away in 1928 (according to Wikipedia), "as part of a harbor development effort."
