I remember berthing here when I was chief mate on the Columbia Beaver, a Columbia Steam C-2. We'd loaded a full load of Datsun cars in Japan, and discharged them here. Some of the cars were Datsun 240Z's, a neat little sports car which had just been introduced. These berths are open to the Pacific swells, and we were rolling about 10 degrees at the dock. One second the lines would all be slack, and the next second they'd be tight as a drum. I also recall being on the quarterdeck with the Captain (who was about 6' 3" when an AB yelled at me that I'd better get down to the galley because a colored sailor had gotten a butcher knife out of the galley and was going to start carving up an Ordinary Seaman. I ran down the ladder, and the Captain ran the opposite way. As I rounded the door into the galley they were squared off but no knives and I told them to knock it off or I'd call the cops. That seemed to settle everything until I turned and walked out and one of the longshoremen told me the AB had a knife about 2 feet long and was ready to go to work until he'd ditched it when he heard me running down the ladder. Ah, youth; you wouldn't catch me doing that today!