Sugar ship’s long final sail into history

An hour after midnight on a cold and rainy Thursday, the old motor vessel Moku Pahu pulled slowly away from a berth on the Richmond harbor, bound on a last voyage into history.

The Moku Pahu was headed on a short run up the bay to the big refinery at Crockett, carrying the final cargo of pure cane sugar from Hawaii. The ship had sailed from Kahului Harbor on Maui, and then the last sugar mill in Hawaii shut down — on the last Friday of the old year — ending 145 years of Hawaiian sugar trade.

Sugar production used to be one of the economic mainstays of the islands, but it has been fading for years. Prices were to blame, and bad weather, and environmental problems, a ton of factors. The Hawaiian Commercial and Sugar Co., which ran the last mill, lost $30 million in its last full year of production.

“We all knew it was coming,” said Capt. Christian Johnsen, who was in command for the final voyage Thursday. “But it’s certainly very sad. I’d say it’s like the death of a grandparent. We knew it had to happen, but it’s still hard to believe.”

Sugar was also important on San Francisco Bay, dating back to the 1850s, when commercial trade with the islands began. At one time, the C&H Crockett plant refined close to a million tons of sugar a year, mostly from Hawaii. The refinery will remain open, but the sugar will come from foreign and domestic cane fields other than Hawaii.

The last, long sugar voyage began in mid-December, when the ship sailed from Maui. Everyone at the port stopped to see the ship go; people lined the shore, all the vessels in the harbor and all the trucks onshore blew a salute.

“I was very sad, and very proud, too,” said Capt. Lou Terramorse, Moku Pahu’s veteran skipper.

He brought the ship across the Pacific and into the Golden Gate on Dec.

27. The Moku Pahu is not a fast ship, and there’s no hurry in the sugar business.

Johnsen, the chief mate, took over as skipper in the bay. There was a wait until the refinery was ready, and then a nighttime voyage up to Crockett. Now timing was important as the ship was deeply laden with almost 32,000 tons of sugar and 2,000 tons of molasses, and there are big tides and strong currents this time of the year. Everything was done slowly and carefully.

It was quiet on the bridge as the ship turned around and made its way out the Richmond channel and up the bay. The pilot, Capt. Eric Johnson, set the courses for the seaman at the helm and gave small changes: right 10, midship, left 10. The helmsman repeated the orders, and the 648-foot-long ship moved through the dark waters at a sedate 9 knots.

Johnson was pleased that he had drawn the assignment. He had sailed on the Moku Pahu for 11 years, working his way up from third mate to captain at the age of 31. So it was like old times.

The Moku Pahu was built 32 years ago, making it old for a merchant ship. “This ship is a classic,” said Kip Carlson, another pilot, who was along for the ride.

The ship has done more than sugar runs. “She’s had a lot of real adventures over the years,” Johnsen said.

The Moku Pahu made a couple of trips to North Korea, carrying grain, once docking there on an icy Christmas Eve. It has carried cargo to Vladivostok in the Russian Far East, and to Pakistan, Bangladesh and the Philippines, and it spent more than a month in Djibouti, on the Horn of Africa. “That was interesting,” Johnson said, dryly.

But the homeport has always been Hawaii. “I got to know all the longshoremen, the port people, the workers,” Johnsen said. “This ship has a very strong ohana feeling,” he said, using the Hawaiian word for family.

It is more than just family. On its bridge, the Moku Pahu has a statue of Kanaloa, the Hawaiian god of the sea. It is carved of koa wood and has mother-of-pearl eyes that look directly at one of the radar sets. Sometimes, Johnsen said, Hawaiians would leave little gifts for Kanaloa — candy, maybe, a can of Spam, the island favorite. One sailor ate the candy, another wondered what an idol was doing on an American ship. Something bad happened to both of them.

“I’m not superstitious,” Johnsen said, “but ...”

The Moku Pahu slid under the Carquinez Bridge at 3:30 in the morning and tied up for good at the refinery dock an hour later.

Johnsen invited the pilot to his cabin afterward.

“On this occasion, I’d offer a bit of Champagne, or maybe scotch,” he said. “But that was in the old days.” Instead, he broke out a container full of pure cane sugar from Hawaii and offered a taste.

“Have some,” he said. “There won’t be any more. This is history.”

Carl Nolte is a San Francisco Chronicle columnist. His column appears every Sunday. Email: cnolte@sfchronicle.com Twitter: @carlnoltesf