I peek outside and see a gift! The sun is shining—it hides most days, gracing us with its presence only occasionally. The blue sky takes my breath away, and the wind has died to almost nothing. We need to get out of the house! “Michael, let’s go to the park!”

“Which park?” he asks.

“The one at that point of land with all the activity. You know.”

It takes a while before he realizes what I am talking about. My “you know” didn’t work. I have to give him more details. Kids. Submarines. A long time ago. Last year. Remember? “Oh, you mean Seawolf Park!”

I check out the refrigerator and in five minutes I put together a less than healthy lunch snack. Spinach dip, tortilla chips, red grapes, and a half bottle of French rosé. Michael’s ready and waiting on the front porch while I still look for my shoes.

Lunch at Seawolf Park

Walking along the sidewalk that edges Seawolf Park, we search for the perfect picnic table—almost perfect, anyway. We find one close to where the primary ship channel intersects with the channel leading into the harbor.

The horizon is full of ships—coming. Going. Anchored. This is why I wanted to be here! The big ships and the ferry—constantly in motion—are up close and personal.

As we nibble on our meager lunch, I realize virtually no one else is visiting the park today—a Thursday in January! But there is enough activity to entertain us as we sit and soak up the day. A fisherman is constantly changing locations, searching for the perfect spot to snag tonight’s dinner. A woman—phone in hand, talking—paces back and forth. Two younger men, dragging an ice chest behind them, position themselves at the tip of this tiny peninsula and begin casting their fishing lines into the water.

A pelican swoops by, its wings almost touching the table where we sit, and lands on a picnic table next to the two fishermen. Apparently, the pelican has been here before—and so have the fishermen. One of the men is on the ground cutting something. He tosses it on the grass. The pelican lunges—mouth open. More giant birds join him. Watching, I can’t decide if this is a feast or a war. But, it is fascinating to watch these huge clunky looking birds fighting for their lunch. Later, one of the fishermen tell us, “They don’t eat shrimp. They only want fish.”

Seagulls they aren’t—those seabirds will eat anything!

Being here, right now, feels like perfection. Michael even thanks me for suggesting it.

About Seawolf Park

Originally an immigration station, the park is located on Galveston’s Pelican Island, and is named Seawolf Park in honor of the USS Seawolf a submarine launched in 1939. Carrying a crew of 83, she served with distinction until her loss in 1944. Seawolf was awarded thirteen battle stars and sunk at least eighteen ships over the course of the war.

Near the end of WWII she disappeared without a trace, carrying 83 crew and 17 Army passengers. An investigation concluded that she was probably sunk by friendly fire from a destroyer escort ship. Neither the sub herself nor any of her crew or passengers have ever been recovered. Seawolf Park stands as a memorial to these men and their service.

Today Seawolf Park seems to be all about fishing and is great place for family outings on weekends. It is home to one of Galveston’s most popular fishing piers, as well as a playground for the kids.

When we came here with our children multiple decades ago, Seawolf Park was free and and two naval ships, the submarine Cavalla and the destroyer Steward, were planted in the ground and easily accessible for kids to climb on and explore. Today the ships are protected behind a wrought iron fence and a small fee is charged to explore them.

For more information on Seawolf Park, click on the following link:

https://www.visitgalveston.com/directory/seawolf-park/

A Side Note

Seawolf Park: A Living Remembrance

Seawolf Park is a living remembrance of the submarines and veterans lost during the World War II era. It was during the Second World War that submarines comprised less than 2 percent of the U.S. Navy, but sank over 30 percent of the Japanese fleet. This includes the sinking of eight aircraft carriers, one of which was sunk by our own USS Cavalla, which is often mistaken for the USS Seawolf, for which the park was named. In fact, during WWII, the U.S. submarine force lost 52 boats and 3,506 men. Theirs was the highest loss of any division of the U.S. military during WWII.

This overwhelming sacrifice sparked the enactment of a bill by Congress, to ensure we would not forget. It was deemed that a memorial park would be erected in each state to represent one of the 52 fallen submarines and their crews. Galveston was granted with hosting the enactment for Texas, and given the honor of remembering the USS Seawolf with a memorial park.

American Undersea Warfare Center
100 Seawolf Parkway
Galveston, Texas 77551