On Nov. 11, 1595, a Portuguese mariner serving King Phillip II of Spain made close contact with the San Luis Obispo coast. Sebastián Rodríguez Cermeño had left Manila the preceding July as captain of the galleon San Agostin. Following orders from the viceroy, Cermeño made his first landfall just north of Humboldt Bay.

He proceeded down the coast, searching for a safe harbor. The San Agostin was badly damaged by storms while being repaired at Point Reyes on Nov. 30. Cermeño jerry-rigged an open launch from the wreckage, renaming it the San Buenaventura. He continued his search along the rock-strewn California coast. The shallow draft vessel allowed him to sail very close to the shoreline.

As Cermeño sailed off Point Buchon near the present nuclear generating facility at Diablo Canyon, his crew sighted large numbers of Native Americans on the rocky cliffs. The Spaniards heard the natives cry “Christiños” and “Mexicaños,” words possibly acquired during the visit of another Manila galleon captained by Pedro de Unamuno eight years earlier.

Virtually every record of succeeding Spanish contact with the Avila Beach-Port San Luis Obispo region references the presence of a significant number of Native Americans.

After the founding of Mission San Luis Obispo, this area became our region’s principal seaport where cattle hides (Californio “dollars”), tallow, barley and wine were exchanged for much needed iron implements. That trade continued into the rancho era.

By the time of the dairy boom during the 1870s, the Seattle-based Pacific Coast Steamship Company began developing a narrow-gauge railway from what is now Port San Luis into the town of Avila, now Avila Beach.

In 1873, a horse-powered, 2-foot-6-inch-gauge tramway was constructed. Horses drew the small cars off the Port Harford wharf and up a hill along the bluffs. After entering a short tunnel, the team would be released and the cars would coast downhill into Avila.

In 1876, the line was widened to a 3-foot gauge and extended as a steam-powered locomotive line into San Luis Obispo, called the San Luis Obispo & Santa Maria Valley Railroad. In 1881, the company extended the line to Arroyo Grande, eventually connecting all the way to Los Olivos in the Santa Ynez Valley.

The line, renamed the Pacific Coast Railway Company, became an important part of the transportation infrastructure for the very isolated Central Coast.

Throughout this process, Chinese laborers complained to Capt. John Harford, the supervisor, of the obvious presence of so many skeletal remains.

Avila folklore also refers to a tall Native American who called himself Cabazon, trying to prevent further excavation of the bluffs between Port Harford and Avila.

These complaints were largely regarded as obstacles to progress. Should a few old bones prevent the farmer or rancher from shipping his butter, cheese, hogs, sheep and turkeys to market in San Francisco? What about the need for gravel from the Sisquoc quarries for rebuilding the once wooden, fire-ravaged city of San Francisco with brick and stone?

Pizmo, the naturally occurring tar first used by the Native Americans, had become big business by the 1880s. The tar was used to generate gas for the first gas lamps in San Luis Obispo and was being shipped out of Port Harford by the Port Harford Asphalt Company to pave the streets of San Francisco, Redwood City, San Jose and Stockton. Should these cities have to put up with dusty streets because of a concern for a few old burials?

Readers can well imagine the reaction of Pacific Coast Railway Company President Charles Goodall when he was told about the skulls and other human remains.

On Nov. 11, 1595, a Portuguese mariner serving King Phillip II of Spain made close contact with the San Luis Obispo coast. Sebastián Rodríguez Cermeño had left Manila the preceding July as captain of the galleon San Agostin. Following orders from the viceroy, Cermeño made his first landfall just north of Humboldt Bay.

He proceeded down the coast, searching for a safe harbor. The San Agostin was badly damaged by storms while being repaired at Point Reyes on Nov. 30. Cermeño jerry-rigged an open launch from the wreckage, renaming it the San Buenaventura. He continued his search along the rock-strewn California coast. The shallow draft vessel allowed him to sail very close to the shoreline.

As Cermeño sailed off Point Buchon near the present nuclear generating facility at Diablo Canyon, his crew sighted large numbers of Native Americans on the rocky cliffs. The Spaniards heard the natives cry “Christiños” and “Mexicaños,” words possibly acquired during the visit of another Manila galleon captained by Pedro de Unamuno eight years earlier.

Virtually every record of succeeding Spanish contact with the Avila Beach-Port San Luis Obispo region references the presence of a significant number of Native Americans.

After the founding of Mission San Luis Obispo, this area became our region’s principal seaport where cattle hides (Californio “dollars”), tallow, barley and wine were exchanged for much needed iron implements. That trade continued into the rancho era.

By the time of the dairy boom during the 1870s, the Seattle-based Pacific Coast Steamship Company began developing a narrow-gauge railway from what is now Port San Luis into the town of Avila, now Avila Beach.

In 1873, a horse-powered, 2-foot-6-inch-gauge tramway was constructed. Horses drew the small cars off the Port Harford wharf and up a hill along the bluffs. After entering a short tunnel, the team would be released and the cars would coast downhill into Avila.

In 1876, the line was widened to a 3-foot gauge and extended as a steam-powered locomotive line into San Luis Obispo, called the San Luis Obispo & Santa Maria Valley Railroad. In 1881, the company extended the line to Arroyo Grande, eventually connecting all the way to Los Olivos in the Santa Ynez Valley.

The line, renamed the Pacific Coast Railway Company, became an important part of the transportation infrastructure for the very isolated Central Coast.

Throughout this process, Chinese laborers complained to Capt. John Harford, the supervisor, of the obvious presence of so many skeletal remains.

Avila folklore also refers to a tall Native American who called himself Cabazon, trying to prevent further excavation of the bluffs between Port Harford and Avila.

These complaints were largely regarded as obstacles to progress. Should a few old bones prevent the farmer or rancher from shipping his butter, cheese, hogs, sheep and turkeys to market in San Francisco? What about the need for gravel from the Sisquoc quarries for rebuilding the once wooden, fire-ravaged city of San Francisco with brick and stone?

Pizmo, the naturally occurring tar first used by the Native Americans, had become big business by the 1880s. The tar was used to generate gas for the first gas lamps in San Luis Obispo and was being shipped out of Port Harford by the Port Harford Asphalt Company to pave the streets of San Francisco, Redwood City, San Jose and Stockton. Should these cities have to put up with dusty streets because of a concern for a few old burials?

Readers can well imagine the reaction of Pacific Coast Railway Company President Charles Goodall when he was told about the skulls and other human remains. To be continued.

Dan Krieger is a professor emeritus of history at Cal Poly and past president of the California Mission Studies Association.

To be continued.

Dan Krieger is a professor emeritus of history at Cal Poly and past president of the California Mission Studies Association.