- Kelly O
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Also on Westward’s wall of captains: Steve Zissou and (maybe) the Gorton’s fisherman.
Halfway between Ivar’s and Gas Works Park is a magical place called Westward. When you see the big sign with the oyster shells piled up around its foot, in the middle of nowhere beneath the Burke-Gilman Trail on Northlake Way, you are here. (Assuming you’re not arriving by boat, in which case, use your sextant and to hell with you.) You walk down the driveway, and there’s a blazing hot fire surrounded by a ring of more oyster shells, and those surrounded by Adirondack chairs, with cozy blankets draped here and there. The view is of the city across the water to the south, a view you probably rarely see. On a recent sunny late afternoon, it all glinted and dazzled like an urban mirage; on a recent foggy night, ghosts of boats were barely visible, the water more a sound than a sight.
If you want to sit outside—if the weather permits—they’ll bring you sparkling wine and oysters on the half shell and whatever else you like. Inside, you’ll find a shipshape oyster bar and, adjoining but with its own door, Westward. By the host stand hang portraits of Captain Merrill Stubing (of the Pacific Princess), Captain Steve Zissou (the Belafonte), and two more seamen. The host doesn’t know who the others are; one of them looks like the Gorton’s fisherman. They’re planning to add to their wall of captains…