Walking Tour

The Lifeguard Joe Fortes

Vancouver's Unlikely Hero

Andrew Farris

Vancouver Archives AM1376-: CVA 1376-227

On Vancouver's 100th birthday in 1986 the Vancouver Historical Society convened to select the "Citizen of the Century." There was no shortage of great pioneers and politicians, innovators and reformers to choose from. Yet when the committee settled on a black, half-literate lifeguard from the Caribbean it came as a surprise to few. Seraphim "Joe" Fortes was the unlikeliest of heroes, yet his story symbolizes Vancouver at its best . "Joe", the gentle giant, embodied the values of service, kindness and modesty that we hold in such high regard.
In this tour we'll recount "Joe's" moving story and how he captured the heart of three generations of Vancouverites. We'll be using excerpts from Barbara Rogers' and Lisa Anne Smith's wonderful book Our Friend Joe.

This project is a partnership with the Downtown Vancouver Business Improvement Association.

1. Joe's Fountain

Vancouver Archives AM1535-: CVA 99-2684

1932

The simple inscription on this memorial water fountain to Seraphim Fortes, universally known by his nickname Joe, reads "Children loved him." People of all ages raised $5,000 to build this monument. For 1887 to 1921 Joe was a constant fixture at the beach behind you, teaching children to swim, saving the lives of those who floundered and keeping the peace. It's no stretch to say that everybody in the young city knew him and loved him.

* * *

Joe was born in Trinidad (though some reports say Barbados) around 1865. His father was a black sugar plantation worker and his mother from the Spanish middle class. Very little is known about the early years of his life, but we do know that as he grew into a young man, the great, wide world beckoned. When he hopped on a ship for the maritime metropolis of Liverpool his mother gave him parting words of advice that would stay with him all his life: "You live so that you can look everyone in the face, and then you will be afraid of nothing and nobody… Never forget to whom you belong, and always be straight and honest."
Joe soon made himself at home in Liverpool, the "New York of Europe", and found work as an attendant at the public baths, giving him plenty of opportunities to perfect his swim stroke. It may seem odd to us now, but for centuries swimming had been viewed with suspicion, the ocean a conduit for infectious disease. Few people ever learned how to do it. It was only around this time in the late 1800s that swimming was beginning to gain social acceptance, though the only strokes known were an awkward kind of breast stroke and a clumsy side stroke.

2. Learning to Swim

Vancouver Archives AM54-S4-: Be P65.1

1898

People listen to a sermon on the beach. Upon his arrival in Vancouver, Joe's impressive swimming skills stood out and made him an instant hit with a public keen to get in on the new sport.

* * *

In 1881 word spread that the teenaged bath attendant Joe had swum over a kilometre to cross the River Mersey, an astonishing feat of endurance. He'd apparently done it to rendezvous with an Irish girl who lived on the other side. Word of this reached the ear of a member of Liverpool's Daredevil Club, a secret society whose members would carry out risky acts of derring-do, often for a cash reward. He invited Joe to take part in their latest challenge: swimming across the Mersey at midnight. The first across would win an enormous prize purse. Joe accepted.
Two other men dared to enter the race, and at midnight the three waded into the chilly waters and began their awkward 19th Century breast strokes against the swiftly flowing currents. A police constable had spotted them trespassing on private property and had hopped in a rowboat in hot pursuit. Soon one of the two men fell behind and was apprehended by the furious policeman. Joe and the second man kept going, leaving the constable's boat behind and approaching the other side. At long last, Joe clambered up the rocks on the far bank, victorious. Turning around, he saw his competitor floundering in the river. Joe, in what was to become his signature move, leapt back in the water and pulled the grateful man to safety.
Back at Daredevil Club headquarters Joe was acclaimed a hero and awarded the prize money (minus the steep fine incurred by the unfortunate third man). Yet it would not be long before Joe would become restless again, and in 1884 signed on as a crewman on the aging bark Robert Kerr before it made the circuitous voyage to Burrard's Inlet.

3. Coming to Vancouver

Vancouver Archives AM54-S4-: Be P73.2

1930s

This postcard view of English Bay shows the pier that no longer exists today, though at low tide you can see the rocks that supported it. In 1885 Joe arrived in Granville, which would shortly be renamed Vancouver. Only months later, in June 1886, he was there when the Great Fire ripped through the young city. The lives he saved that day began the Joe Fortes legend on this side of the Atlantic.

* * *

The dreadful journey on the Robert Kerr lasted months. They were hounded by storms much of the way and the captain fell ill and died. Finally in September 1885 the wind-lashed Robert Kerr limped into Burrard Inlet. Joe had found his new home.
Joe quickly got a job as a shoeblack at the Sunnyside Hotel. These were exciting times: In April 1886 the rowdy sawmill town of Granville was incorporated and Vancouver was born. Then only a couple months later it completely burned down. As the fire swept through the town's Joe found the wife and eight-year-old son of a local Member of Parliament in one of the hotel's rooms and ushered them outside and into a boat, the flames licking at their heels.
The heroic act of saving the family of a Member of Parliament won Joe some powerful friends. As the city rebuilt he climbed a few rungs up the social ladder and found work as a bartender at the Bodega Saloon on 21 Carrall Street. His magnetic personality and easy-going attitude quickly made him one of the most popular people in the city. How else to explain this 1888 news report in the Daily News-Advertiser?
"A gloom seemed to pervade the city yesterday, especially that part lying around Carrall Street. Men went about with a sad look on their faces, dogs wore a dejected air, and even the rats seemed to feel the general depression. The cause of the universal sadness was the fact that Mr. Joseph Fortz, alias Joe, the popular bartender of the Bodega Saloon, was suffering from indisposition. He looked quite pale as he sat in a chair thoughtfully placed for him in Tattersall's stables and mused on the mutability of human affairs. All the leading physicians were in attendance and hourly bulletins were issued. Up to the time of writing, Joe, although not quite himself, was in a fair way of recovery and probably by this time as light-hearted as ever."

4. Joe's Discovery

Vancouver Archives AM54-S4-1---: S-5-15

1896

An early glimpse of English Bay at high tide. A few people have already built cottages here, but the beach Joe Fortes will have seen when he first rowed by in 1887 would not have been too different. Joe certainly deserves the credit for first realizing the potential of this magnificent place as the city's top destination for recreation and relaxation.

* * *

In 1887 Joe was working side jobs around town, and at one point he was hired to row some equipment from Vancouver (Gastown) to Jerry's Cove (Jericho Beach). He made good time, and on the way back, with time to spare, explored the densely forested coastline. Rowing up past Kitsilano and the opening of False Creek, he saw the beach that you are now looking at. The soft, white sand, flecked with quartz crystals, beckoned to him, and he disembarked and investigated further. Good swimming beaches were hard to come by along Vancouver's rocky shores (many other local beaches have since had sand trucked in). This place was perfect.
Joe excitedly rowed back to Vancouver and told his friends. They soon returned and claimed the beach as their own. The Squamish people of course had long been visiting this place and called it "Eeyulshun" or "good footing". They had left a rough trail through the densely forested West End which Joe and his friends discovered.
Word quickly spread around Vancouver of the legendary swimming beach, and soon all sorts of people, young and old, rich and poor, were making the trek out to English Bay. Joe, still in his 20s felt a certain responsibility for ‘his' beach and started acting as unofficial lifeguard in the summers. For many this was their first chance to learn to swim, and Joe proved a patient and friendly teacher.

5. Saving Lives

Vancouver Archives AM1376-: CVA 1376-228

1900

An early cabin built in English Bay for summer visits. Within a couple years of Joe's discovery, legions of Vancouverites were making the trek out to English Bay, and Joe successfully lobbied for a road of sorts to be built. Prudish Victorian-era sensibilities still prevailed and Joe divided the beach into men's and women's sections. As you can see, even men's swimsuits of this time left more to the imagination.

* * *

As the beach's popularity grew Joe saw that many of the oldest and youngest struggled on the rough trail to reach his beach. He went straight to Vancouver Mayor Malcolm MacLean and asked for a road to be built. MacLean liked Joe—the woman and boy Joe had saved during the Great Fire were his in-laws—and he approved the plan. A plank boardwalk was extended down today's Denman Street, before turning right at today's Georgia Street and up to Burrard, where the tree-line stopped in the late 1880s.
Many people still struggled with swimming (there weren't any pools to practice in) ensuring Joe was kept busy with teaching and saving lives. Soon this beach became unofficially known as "Joe's Beach." On one occasion in 1898 the American consul for Dawson City, J. McCook, stopped over in Vancouver on his way up to the Yukon and went swimming here. As reported in the Victoria Daily Colonist, he "was overcome with heart failure while bathing in English Bay and rescued from certain death by a coloured man named Joe Fortes, after he had disappeared for the third time."
All the Vancouver newspapers, particularly the Daily Province, breathlessly recounted Joe's frequent life-saving exploits and lauded his bravery. One report tells of how Joe hopped in his little rowboat during a fierce storm and rowed way out to Point Grey to save the crew of a sinking sailboat. Stories like this could not help but make Joe into a public hero. Officially he is credited with saving 29 lives but the actual number is thought to be well over 100.

6. Official Lifeguard

Vancouver Archives AM1584-: CVA 7-167

1912

Here is Joe Fortes. Surrounded by children, he's teaching a girl to swim who does not appear to be taking to it. Vancouver was still a small, tight-knit community in the late 1800s, so pretty much everyone had been taught to swim by Joe. After over a decade of watching over the beach in his spare time the people of Vancouver decided Joe deserved some compensation, and he was given an official position.

* * *

Every summer through the 1890s Joe minded the beach, though now he was also juggling a job bartending at the Alhambra Hotel, one of the most prestigious hotels in town. He asked for nothing, doing it in his free time out of the goodness of his heart and a love of children. His patented method was to hoist the kids up by the back of their swimsuit and command "Kick yo feet!"¹
In 1900 a petition was circulated demanding Joe be instated as lifeguard with an official title and salary. When it was presented to City Council it had garnered thousands of signatures. Council immediately agreed, appointing Joe swimming instructor, lifeguard and special constable of English Bay with a salary of $80.00 a month, a not insignificant sum at the time. Characteristically, the mayor and councillors came down to the beach and had to call Joe out of the water to tell him the good news.
A report in the Daily Province soon followed that dispelled any doubts about the decision. "Joe Fortes, lately appointed swimming instructor at English Bay by order of the city council, has already earned his salary."² He'd saved the life of a five-year-old who'd wandered out into the water and had been submerged for some time before Joe got to him.

7. Joe's Modest Life

Vancouver Archives AM54-S4-: Be P64.5

1898

Crowds have turned out in their Sunday best for a baptism in English Bay. Joe may have been present that day as he was a very pious man, who sat every Sunday in his favourite spot on a pew in Holy Rosary Cathedral. His undeniable virtues impressed many people in a time tainted with racial prejudice, especially the scandalous taboo of a "negro" touching white women and children. On hot summer days when children would run off to the beach their parents shouted after them "and don't go away from where Joe is!" knowing they were in safe hands.¹

* * *

Joe led a sober and frugal life. His upbringing in Trinidad had imbued in him a deep Catholic faith and he dressed smartly for Sunday services at Holy Rosary Cathedral. Unsurprisingly, on more than one occasion he leapt into the ocean while in his suit to save a swimmer in distress. His work as a bartender had taught him how to deal with troublemakers, though few would dare to upset the barrel-chested lifeguard. Like his lifesaving, his policing duties were covered in the press. One headline on August 2, 1905 credited Joe with "Sav[ing] a serious hysterical riot at English Bay."
All through this time his beach was evolving around him. The trees in the West End had come down and neighbourhoods had sprung up. A pier was built, as were two bathhouses. The one that survives today was built in 1932. All those old cottages along the tree-line were relocated too as the city sought to widen public access to the beach. One modest cottage was relocated further north to the end of the beach, and this one was given to Joe to live in. It was his home until his death.

8. Fighting for Joe

Vancouver Archives AM336-S3-2-: CVA 677-440

1905

Here is Joe at about age 40. Curiously, Joe seems to be smiling in all his photos, which was unusual at the time. When a cost-cutting mayor tried to have Joe dismissed, the city rallied around him, forcing the politician to back down. A couple years later he was overcome with grief when two girls drowned near his beach. In response the Vancouver Athletic Swimming Club honoured him in a touching scene.

* * *

Like every good story this one has a villain, one Alderman Thomas Neelands. In 1900 he had opposed the decision of council to award Joe an official position, and when he was elected Mayor in 1902 he saw his chance to be rid of Joe, attempting passage of a bill that would have turned over lifeguarding at Joe's Beach to the Park Board.
When it was realized this would lead to Joe's dismissal, the people of Vancouver were incensed. A new petition demanding Joe's position be made permanent was rapidly circulated and presented to council. All of Vancouver's most prominent citizens had signed it, as well as 2,000 others representing a broad cross-section of society. Stunned by this rebuke the Mayor withdrew his plans.
Joe could not watch over everyone on the beach all the time however. In 1908 two girls swimming to the west of Joe's Beach, by Stanley Park, were snagged by rocks, held underwater and drowned. Joe, probably unjustifiably, held himself responsible. A reporter who interviewed him described his grief as "shattering to behold."
The members of the Vancouver Athletic Swimming Club, who had all been taught to swim by Joe, could not bear to see the gentle giant in such a state. They decided to mint a personalized gold medal for Joe to thank him for all the lives he had saved. As the swim team marched to Joe's cottage to present the medal, word spread around town and soon a giant crowd had formed outside his humble home.
Joe emerged from his house, shocked by the cheering throngs. When presented with the medal he fought back tears and managed to say "I've always tried to do my best at the bay, and shall try to keep that reputation."¹

9. Vancouver's Hero

Vancouver Archives AM1376-: CVA 1376-227

1890s

Here is Joe is sitting at left, along with some friends. He left an indelible mark on the children of Vancouver in these decades. The boy in the photo above may have been one of those he taught to swim who went off to war in 1914, as did many of his former pupils. Joe, too old to fight at this point, stayed behind and became a sort of father-figure for the kids.

* * *

As the years went by many of the kids Joe had taught to swim grew into adults and often became prominent citizens of the city. Seeing Joe selflessly continue his watch year after year they resolved to honour his service. In 1910 a ceremony was held at the Vancouver Board of Trade where, after a series of glowing speeches, Joe was presented with a gold watch and $472 that had been secretly raised. One Vancouverite who had moved to California wired a $10 contribution. His telegram said "If this was my last $10, Joe would have half of it."
Joe stood up and said his aim in life had always been "not to make myself a big man, but only for the benefit of the little ones, to whom my heart is attached and always will be."¹
As war enveloped the world Joe bid farewell to many of his old friends who rushed to enlist. Many of them would never return. For the grief-stricken children they left behind there was some solace in Joe's reassuring presence, his broad smile and booming voice always to be found on that beach.

10. Joe's Legacy

Vancouver Archives AM54-S4-: Bu P111

1910s

This is Joe's little cottage. As the last of the English Bay cottages, after his death in 1922 it was demolished and this stand of trees planted in its place. He was gone, but his memory lives on.

* * *

By the time the First World War ended the years were beginning to tell on Joe. In 1919 a Japanese fishing boat was shipwrecked in a storm off Second Beach and in saving the crew, Joe caught a cold that he never fully recovered from. In 1921 he took ill with pneumonia and finally had to leave his beach. His sickness worsened and on February 4, 1922, he died.
Vancouver went into mourning. It was decided to hold a civic funeral for Joe, though this was an extremely rare honour. As his casket was borne from Holy Rosary Cathedral it was led by mounted police in dress uniform and followed by the mayor, council and practically the whole city government. As the procession wound its way through the city more and more people lined the streets, standing silent and sombre. By the time the cortege approached Joe's Beach the crowd had swelled to tens of thousands. It was the largest funeral in Vancouver's history. He was laid to rest at Mountain View Cemetery. His tombstone simply says "Joe", because everyone knew who he was.
The memory of Joe has not faded. Asides from the memorial you've already seen, the nearby branch of the library on Denman Street is named for him, as is a popular steakhouse. He's been featured on stamps and the National Film Board has made a film about him.