Closing a door to Newport’s past

Noaki Schwartz

NEWPORT BEACH -- For many, the demise of the Cannery means more

than just the end of another beachfront restaurant, but the loss of a

precious link to city’s maritime past.

The small porthole to the early beginnings of this fishing community

will close Sunday.

But, in a modern community increasingly populated by extravagant

dockside homes, holding on to the Cannery is almost like trying to stop

time, said Bill Hamilton, 75, one of the restaurant’s primary owners.

During the 1930s when the restaurant was an actual fish cannery, a

10-year-old Hamilton rowed his boat to the factory, threw rocks at

pigeons and stared fascinated at the grinding machinery that would churn

out can after can of tuna.

The Western Canners Co. employed a large number of residents, who

operated the machinery by hand and turned out hundreds of tuna cans

daily. Eventually, human hands were replaced by machinery and production

increased into the thousands.

Ironically, it was Newport’s growing prosperity -- which allowed

operations to thrive through the Depression and World War II -- that was

also responsible for the closure of the original cannery.

The booming industrialization and resulting pollution made the water

near the cannery uninhabitable for the fish it depended on. In the summer

of 1966, the cannery closed and was torn down by owner Bob Unger.

Five years later, a group of World War II veterans who had started a

successful chemical business found themselves in the unique position of

being able to buy back a piece of their childhood.

“[Wally] Burgess and [Bill] Donavan were approached by Bob about the

cannery property and they approached Jack Hogan,” said John Hogan, Jack’s

son. Bill Hamilton, Frank Arpaia and Tom Donovan quickly joined the

group. While Hamilton and Hogan were the primary financial backers,

the other four each owned 10% of the site.

“They were really sharp guys -- all of them,” Hogan said.

Recognizing the success of Cannery Row in Monterey, Calif., the new

owners hired a local architect to design a building slightly smaller but

nearly identical to the original factory. After it was built, they hired

an interior decorator, who collected original cannery machinery and

placed them around the restaurant.

The Cannery officially reopened as a restaurant in 1973.

While the community poured into the new restaurant almost immediately,

it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing.

“Everything broke,” John Hogan remembered. “It took a year or so to

get the bugs out.”

Moreover, just a year after the restaurant opened, Jack Hogan died. It

was at about this time that Hamilton went beyond his role as a financial

backer and decided to manage the restaurant.

Despite these initial difficulties, though, the lively bar and

restaurant became a favorite establishment in the seaside community over

the next 26 years.

Mary Cupp, a regular customer, said she remembers coming to the

Cannery for her 40th birthday for the brunch cruises to meet friends at

happy hour for a free bowl of chowder and to see the Christmas village

and decorated boilers in the winter.

“This [is] a piece of local history that is going to be lost in a lot

of stucco and neutral tones,” said Cupp, over one of her last Cannery

meals. “It’s a little corner of Newport Beach where there was a

connection to the working port.”

As for Hamilton, he is consoling himself with the knowledge that for a

moment, he had a hand in keeping that piece of history alive.

“It’s hard to face the end of something you really like [but I’ve] got

to be realistic -- I’m not a young kid anymore,” he said.