DUANE
Duane's take
Here's my telling of what the official marker has to say about the Port of Brownsville. Now, some things take a long time to get right. And this one — well, it took about eighty years, give or take.
It started in 1854, when United States Army engineers came down to this corner of South Texas and conducted a survey. They were looking into something that sounded simple enough on paper: could you build a deep water seaport here? The answer they found was complicated.
Because at that time, the only natural harbor anywhere in the area sat at Brazos de Santiago Pass, near Point Isabel — about sixteen miles to the northeast. Ships had been threading through that pass since the 16th century, which is a long time by anybody's measure. But the pass had a problem.
Shifting sandbars. The kind that don't sit still long enough to let a large vessel anchor with any confidence. So the engineers made their notes, filed their survey, and the deep water port stayed a dream.
It stayed a dream for more than fifty years. Then, in 1906, a commercial fisherman out of Point Isabel named Louis Cabolini decided he'd had just about enough of waiting. Now, a fisherman taking on the cause of a deep water seaport — that's a particular kind of stubbornness.
But Cabolini didn't just show up and holler about it. He compiled data. Real data.
Enough to go back to the U.S. Army engineers and convince them that this undertaking was practical and deserved federal economic support. That's no small thing — getting the federal government to say yes takes more than enthusiasm.
But saying yes and actually doing the thing turned out to be two different matters. Over the next twenty years, various attempts at dredging channels and eliminating those sandbars were made. Without much success.
The sandbars, apparently, had opinions of their own. By 1929, the citizens of Brownsville decided they weren't going to sit back and wait on Washington alone. They created a navigation district — local support, local commitment, putting skin in the game to show the federal government they were serious.
And that combination, it turns out, was what finally moved things forward. Between 1934 and 1936, they dredged this ship channel — the one linking Brownsville directly to the Gulf of Mexico. Eighty years after that first survey, after sandbars and failed dredges and one determined fisherman and a navigation district and the weight of two governments bearing down on it — the channel was cut.
In May of 1936, the port facilities were formally dedicated. Some things take a long time to get right. But when you're talking about connecting a city to the sea, it turns out it's worth the wait.
What the marker says
The first serious attempt to study the possibility of construction of a deep water seaport in this part of South Texas was undertaken in 1854 when a survey was conducted by United States Army engineers. At that time, the only natural harbor in the area was located at Brazos de Santiago Pass near Point Isabel (16 mi. NE). Shipping through that pass dated to the 16th Century, but the presence of shifting sandbars prevented large vessels from anchoring at that point. In 1906 Louis Cabolini, a commercial fisherman in Point Isabel, took on the cause for a deep water port. He compiled data that convinced U.S. Army engineers that such an undertaking was practical and deserved federal economic support. During the next 20 years, various attempts at dredging channels and eliminating the sandbars were made without much success. Recognizing the need for deep water transportation to assure sound economic growth, the citizens of Brownsville created a navigation district in 1929 to provide local support for the Federal Government to build a deep water port. Between 1934 and 1936, this ship channel, linking Brownsville and the Gulf of Mexico, was dredged. The port facilities were formally dedicated in May 1936.