Martinez Club Serves Feasts, Fraternity
By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
Nov. 16, 2003
When Bill Wainwright, a councilman in Martinez, inquired about joining the coveted Martinez Sportsmen's Club, he was told to be patient.
Someone had to die first.
So he waited. Someone died. Now, he is in.
"It's like the Immortals in France," said Wainwright, 61, referring to the French Academy, an organization of elite intellectuals that formed in 1635.
"As a result, the average age is pretty high."
Even so, eight others are waiting to get in.
The renewed interest in a 77-year-old hunting and fishing club that no longer emphasizes hunting and fishing is a curiosity. But it also suggests the deep-rooted sense of nostalgia and pride in an aging county seat loaded with history.
The club, founded in 1926, includes a mix of graying characters who stir the soul of this former Italian fishing village, birthplace of Joe DiMaggio.
Its 135 members, mostly men, are retired superior court judges, lawyers, refinery workers, hunters, teachers and politicos who wax philosophical about the city's early years. (Politicking, though, is not allowed.)
The roster is a sort of who's who in Martinez, from Albertsen to Zwemmer.
Each member pays $25 in annual dues for, well, a reserved seat at the monthly meals. The dinners are held inside a single-story building along the railroad tracks, where they socialize, tilt paper cups of wine down their throats and engage in a sizable feast.
Members also sponsor a safety program for hunters, contribute to the local Sea Scouts and donate food to the needy. They pledge to "save and faithfully defend from waste the natural resources" of their country.
Otherwise, the club mostly serves laughs, drinks and a lively social atmosphere for those who want to stay linked.
"Whether Sicilians, business merchants, county people or refinery workers, they all liked good food," said attorney Tom Greerty of the early days. "They liked to eat pheasant and duck with wine and pasta.
"They liked to eat down by the water. It's a tradition of this. It still is."
Don Burriston, a 73-year-old retired county appraiser, said the gatherings were more like a "gastronomic club."
He has been an active member since joining in the early 1980s, despite a resume short on hunting trips. "I think I went once."
Chet Nelson, a longtime member who serves drinks during the perpetual "happy hour," said, "The people are fantastic. All walks of life. They're all brothers."
"They're noisy," added his wife, Geri.
When it started, the outfit was known as the Martinez Bass Club. Members -- men only -- would meet on an old ferry boat and fry up the fish they pulled out of the Carquinez Strait. The ferry eventually burned down.
In earlier days, the guys used to have casino nights and go abalone hunting. "Then," said Nelson, a retired firefighter, "we got older."
For the past few decades, members have met in their isolated redwood building on the Embarcadero, a narrow road that runs along the railroad tracks.
It was not until the 1980s that women were allowed to come, which, Greerty said, "made it a better time. And less lying."
Last Wednesday, people strolled in from the darkness for the monthly dinner. They bought raffle tickets, ordered drinks and looked at a chart to figure out where they were to sit.
Tables were arranged in a long, narrow room with bright overhead lights -- a room occasionally used to test firearms. The meal has become the highlight of the club and Danny Pellegrini, its head cook, is among the most popular members.
He cooks up a special prime rib dinner each January, and a huge crab feed later in the year. He calls the Martinez Sportsmen's Club "a belly club."
Asked how long he will patrol the club kitchen, he sighed. Then, in his deep baritone, he said, "Until I die or they throw me out of here. And I don't see anyone trying to get my job."
Contra Costa Newspapers
Nov. 16, 2003
When Bill Wainwright, a councilman in Martinez, inquired about joining the coveted Martinez Sportsmen's Club, he was told to be patient.
Someone had to die first.
So he waited. Someone died. Now, he is in.
"It's like the Immortals in France," said Wainwright, 61, referring to the French Academy, an organization of elite intellectuals that formed in 1635.
"As a result, the average age is pretty high."
Even so, eight others are waiting to get in.
The renewed interest in a 77-year-old hunting and fishing club that no longer emphasizes hunting and fishing is a curiosity. But it also suggests the deep-rooted sense of nostalgia and pride in an aging county seat loaded with history.
The club, founded in 1926, includes a mix of graying characters who stir the soul of this former Italian fishing village, birthplace of Joe DiMaggio.
Its 135 members, mostly men, are retired superior court judges, lawyers, refinery workers, hunters, teachers and politicos who wax philosophical about the city's early years. (Politicking, though, is not allowed.)
The roster is a sort of who's who in Martinez, from Albertsen to Zwemmer.
Each member pays $25 in annual dues for, well, a reserved seat at the monthly meals. The dinners are held inside a single-story building along the railroad tracks, where they socialize, tilt paper cups of wine down their throats and engage in a sizable feast.
Members also sponsor a safety program for hunters, contribute to the local Sea Scouts and donate food to the needy. They pledge to "save and faithfully defend from waste the natural resources" of their country.
Otherwise, the club mostly serves laughs, drinks and a lively social atmosphere for those who want to stay linked.
"Whether Sicilians, business merchants, county people or refinery workers, they all liked good food," said attorney Tom Greerty of the early days. "They liked to eat pheasant and duck with wine and pasta.
"They liked to eat down by the water. It's a tradition of this. It still is."
Don Burriston, a 73-year-old retired county appraiser, said the gatherings were more like a "gastronomic club."
He has been an active member since joining in the early 1980s, despite a resume short on hunting trips. "I think I went once."
Chet Nelson, a longtime member who serves drinks during the perpetual "happy hour," said, "The people are fantastic. All walks of life. They're all brothers."
"They're noisy," added his wife, Geri.
When it started, the outfit was known as the Martinez Bass Club. Members -- men only -- would meet on an old ferry boat and fry up the fish they pulled out of the Carquinez Strait. The ferry eventually burned down.
In earlier days, the guys used to have casino nights and go abalone hunting. "Then," said Nelson, a retired firefighter, "we got older."
For the past few decades, members have met in their isolated redwood building on the Embarcadero, a narrow road that runs along the railroad tracks.
It was not until the 1980s that women were allowed to come, which, Greerty said, "made it a better time. And less lying."
Last Wednesday, people strolled in from the darkness for the monthly dinner. They bought raffle tickets, ordered drinks and looked at a chart to figure out where they were to sit.
Tables were arranged in a long, narrow room with bright overhead lights -- a room occasionally used to test firearms. The meal has become the highlight of the club and Danny Pellegrini, its head cook, is among the most popular members.
He cooks up a special prime rib dinner each January, and a huge crab feed later in the year. He calls the Martinez Sportsmen's Club "a belly club."
Asked how long he will patrol the club kitchen, he sighed. Then, in his deep baritone, he said, "Until I die or they throw me out of here. And I don't see anyone trying to get my job."
posted by Corey at 8:07 PM
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