Tag Archives: Sausalito California

Katie Savale, The Trident, and the Merry Pranksters

So I’m too-da-ling along on the net and ran across this picture….must admit it brought a little tear to my eye! Talk about an era gone bye…in picture
form…that encapsulates the baby side of a merry movement…I loved the Merry Pranksters…Ken Keesey and the crowd! Uncle Milty used to have so many
stories playing in the rewoods with the Prankster peeps…and Roger (can’t remember his last name right now(Summers?)…WOW, did HE have some parties at his house!
Member Margo St. James???) who designed the Trident, ran rampant with the crew (don’t quote me though…my memory might be hazy…no mystery there!)
Anyway…thought y”all might want to stroll with me down this memory…a picture…1,000 words…sigh…lip quiver

xo Kate

Katharyn M. Savale
Curator of Exhibitions
Mel Fisher Maritime Museum

18TridentSavaleBoatFurther2014 18TridentHorizontalBusFurther2014 18TridentPranksterFurtherBus2014
July 5th, 2007 Katie writes:
Lisa still working while we wait at the “Yacht Electra” remember her there in Sausalito? I’m the one with the Trident tee, behind me Christian, Victoria, Scotty and Derek
xo Kate

Hilarious Trident Alumni’s Rant



Well as I remember it…I did see the jaunty little dance…hands wavin, arms flappin, legs like you’d been riding horseback just a little too long…but what I REALLY remember was the….saunter! Yes…t h a t saunter! Good lord…I just couldn’t believe my buggin eyeballs, as I’m quite sure all other eyeballs blinked in dis-belief…not only were you really doing it, but…YOU WERE TAKING YOUR OWN SWEET TIME DOIN IT!…all leaned back like that “just keep truckin” character by Fat Albert…yeeks remember him? AND…if I remember correctly you had quite the furry tight little body…yessss sireeeee! Hey…it’s not like everything I wore you couldn’t see STRAIGHT through…or just not enough of it…were you there the day I wore the leather loin cloth? The next day Josie showed up in a bikini and knock-me-down-fuck-me pumps…and that’s when Marshall but his foot down and made the rule…NO BATHING SUITS! I’m still laughing! ANYWAY…I think you should have called it “Butt Naked by the Bay…just another day at the Trident.” Wasn’t Robin supposed to do it with you…the dynamic duo? Or was I just on drugs?
xo Katie
p.s. more later…there are sssooooooooooooooo many things to tell…or dare we?
p.s.s. and yes…my nose is still pierced…it goes great with my grey hair!


Katie? my favorite niece is a Katie….
Well, brown hair, gray hair—you were a looker then, and with the kind of bone structure you have I’ll bet you’re still easy to look at now.
What a surprise to hear from you. Do I have Lisa to thank? And I’m glad I got it right, and that you were there that day. I wasn’t sure. I put you in the story because I remember you very well even though I hardly knew you. You were cool, and a little aloof, and more than a little out of my league. I mean, out of all the people I remember—people like dark, straight haired Haun, for instance, or sweet Noreen (who I ran into at the Sausalito Food Co back in 2000, married to that guy who was on a poster posed as a pregnant man in the window of
pharmacy—remember that?) or Dagny, who I loved working for (she had that serious older sister thing going on, which I am such a sucker for, and I don’t mean romantically) you are the only one I remember as a “Cathy Civale”, and not just as a “Cathy.” I do remember wondering what a guy had to do to impress a girl like you. Most of the other girls were doing some variation on West coast flower child or sex kitten, while you were doing east coast chic in black gabardine slacks. Funny about the loin-cloth—I do remember it. Oh yes.
In fact when I lived in Stinson Beach in ’71, I made one out of leather and wore it almost all the time, so naturally I was impressed.
That I “sauntered” as you put it, I don’t remember. After all, walking through a busy restaurant stark naked is a little nerve wracking, so I guess I was trying to act casual, as though it’s just the sort of thing we do around here occaisionally. But no, Robin wasn’t in on that idea—I don’t think he was there yet or he would have been. He would swim with me sometimes later when we worked together. One day when I came in for a paycheck (Tuesdays, wasn’t it?) Gary at the espresso bar told me to go to the dishroom and say hello to my bother—I was dubious until I did. Ah yes. Remember that left field little Jaques Brel like song that came out sometime in the 60’s
“Those were the days, my friend, we thought they’d never end…we’d sing and laugh forever and a day. We’d live the life we’d choose—we’d fight and never lose—those were the days, oh yes, those were the days.”
And now you work for Mel Fisher. I can’t believe it. There are pirates and Spanish sailorsright now, down in hell singing “those were the days” and trying to get message to Mel.Good for you.One last thing. “…. legs like you’d been riding horseback just a little too long….” I like that, especially since I’ve been getting off horses and motorcyles (real bikes, not Harleys) since I was fourteen. You should see Daisy—a deep blue Honda 996 Super Hawk—the younger, bigger, sexier sister of Miz Liz, a Honda 650 Hawk. A pair of true beauties that handle as good as they look.This has been fun. Thanks for writing. I’ll send you a half finished bit I’m working on for Marks Trident site. You might get a kick out of it. Nancy MacAllister was always good for that.
Fond regards, Eric


Okay…shit for brains…I think my feelings are just a little hurt. YES…there is a Kathy Chivale…long dark hair, whiskey soprano, who’s hostess N.Y. buddy was Shophie…I just don’t happen to be her. Alright…are you paying attention? Katie…not Kathy…Savale…not Chivale…although we did hang out just to see how many people’s heads we could screw with…Kathy…Katie…what…who? It happened quite often…ALTHOUGH…we don’t look a thing alike. I am of course a Goddess, and she…just a pale reflection…poor girl. Of course you know I jest…or do you…shit for brains! Noooooo…wait a minute…now I’m just being mean.

I scoured the photos on the site and didn’t see one of me…damn it! Big Jeannie called me last night and turned me onto the site, so we’re just getting started. I don’t know if you knew Jeannie…she didn’t work there, but lived with Uncle Milty for many-many years and was a constant fixture there…I think most famous for her strip-tease on the patio deck…or…wait a minute…was it for the giant chocolate cock cake she made for Milty’s birthday which we all promptly ate…on the deck…with the watchful eyes of Ondine’s patrons slightly bulging…you know…the usual! ANYWAY…I digress…the point was that Jeannie…lovely Noreen, myself and who ever else the girls can round up are all now digging through our old photo albums to see what and who we can throughly embarrass now! I still have my tee shirt from Bob Dylan’s party…ya know the one with his horoscope on the back? I’m gonna put it on and take pictures of the old and the older!

So put on you thinking cap…give it a coupla whacks from me and see if you can conjure up at least a vague memory of who I am. Let’s see…I think I started working there in 69…and stopped in 76…quite a long time…FOR NOT BEING REMEMBERED!

Write back when you are so inspired…oh…and of course Kathy C. had her nose pierced also…yeeks…so similar and yet not so. A quick…speaking of noses…Dana Africa was the first person I EVER saw with a pierced nose…member her…daddy was the infamous Spike Africa…”President of the Pacific Ocean” and owner of the “No Name.” As soon as I saw her I had to run right out…get drunk…and pierce my nose. Not only did I wake up with a raging hangover, but WOW, what did I do to my nose that made it hurt that way? Of course there were a coupla answers to THAT question…until I looked in the mirror…but I gotta admit, I still love it!

Cheers Katie



Can I have my head back now? I’m trying to find the ninth floor balconey railing because I couldn’t find the sleeping pills or my Smith and Wesson retirement plan.

Oh, you mean Katie “you don’t have to look to know if she’s working today—just listen” Savale? In certain circles also known as Katie “the laugh” Savale—rings a bell—oh wait, I am the bell you’re ringing me a little hard. You could try doing what the police do: 5’7” / 120lbs / light brown hair / eyes ? with a big happy face and voice to match. Or you could just say, “not the cool, calm and collected one” but more the “C’mere little man—I wanna bounce you on my knee” type. You mean that Katy Savale. I did find it a little difficult to picture Cathy Civale in Key West.
“I am of course a Goddess, and she…just a pale reflection…poor girl.” Now that is a funny line. So wonderfully faux snob, I wish I’d written it. And of course, you’re not a snob—not that you have much to snobby about.
(All right, all right, so it’s not really my line—”He’s a very modest man. But then, he has much to be modest about.” Churchill. I had to change it because, somehow I can’t picture you and modesty in the same room. (I’m glad you took my head off—I write better without it.
Although if I keep coming up with these kinds of lines you’re gonna think I’m gay.)

Well, my dear, actually this is much better. MUCH BETTER. But in my defense, within this last week I was talking to Lisa Sharp about having Cathy Civale contact me about Dagny, who, if you bothered to read that rather nice email I wrote to the wrong you, I have very fond feelings for. And much to my surprise she did. Of course, expecting to hear from her, I did not realize it was not her. And I want to point out that Savale is very likely an Americanized form of Civale (not Chivale, by the way—being snotty is so much fun) and Katie is a fond diminuation of the Kathleen, Catherine, and even the oh so precious Katharyn variations.As for the nose piercing, I’m an old fashioned man (defender of women and children,etc) and it completely escaped me, as I try not to dwell on peoples facial deformities.OK “shit for brains”—see what you’ve started. I dare you to write back. Before you do, let me just finish with my favorite word to describe certain people who I highly regard in a very special way. You are one of them. The word is VIVID.

Love, Eric

Trident Waitress Flashback

Late sixties? Early seventies? A 32 second clip of some Trident waitresses on their way to work after parking in the lot across the street from the Trident. My apologies for the poor quality. Originally a 16mm version shot to Betamax then digitalized. But thanks to Rob Lawson – Terry the bartenders brother for the clip.

Michael Toomey Checks In

My name is Michael Toomey. I worked at the Trident from 1970 until the last days in 1980. I found this site by accident. I don’t know where to begin, except up to this date it was the best job I ever had.
In one of the pictures you’ll see a North Bay Produce truck and that’s where I’ve been the last 24 years. I still have one friend that I stay in touch with. That’s Jones Pollard. He was a busboy at that time. Above my bed I still have the Trident menu framed.
I started off on the broiler and was making $5 an hour. It was a decent wage for the times. I worked with Jim Susana and Big John. I remember the Trident closing briefly in 1976 by Ron, the owner, for repairs. Shortly thereafter Jim Susana died in a motorcycle accident. We were all across the street in a meeting when Jim’s brother walked in and told us the horrible news. We were all in shock. It gets worse. In 1974 Pierre was diagnosed with cancer and that’s when I became Chef.
I think I was 25 years old and had no idea what I was doing. Add to the fact that I was doing one hundred cross tops a day and all the other stuff that was going around then, I don’t know how I managed to get through the day, or should I say days? I didn’t have a clue what food costs were, and all the other responsibilities that went along with running a kitchen. If it weren’t for the kindness and the compassion of Lisa Sharp I don’t think I would have made it. Lisa, I just want to take this opportunity to say, “Thank You!”
Between the years of 75 and 76 it was apparent that Pierre was losing his battle with cancer. One afternoon he looked at me and said, “Goofy, come into my office.” In his office he handed me a folder with all the Trident recipes. He looked me straight in the eye and said, “the management will try to procure them, whatever you do, keep them to yourself.” He also gave me all his knives and other apparatuses. He came in less frequently until his death in 1978.
Pierre lived about two blocks away from the Trident at the time, and after work I would go to his house periodically and talk about what specials I’d served that day. It’s so devastating to see a man deterorate so rapidly. As predicted they did come after the recipes, and I never did give them up. In the last two years the menu started to change along with an era. I was fortunate to be a part of it, and the memoirs that parallel.
Yes I worked with Robin Williams. We closed the restaurant for the Rolling Stones and the mighty Led Zeppelin along with many famous people that passed through.. the women were something to die for. I was married at the time and swear I never touched one but came pretty close.
Sundays were always coke night. My wife at the time was working down the street at a T-shirt place called Stevens. We’d go back to my place and pull all nighters. Before you knew it, here comes the sun. The Trident was closed on Mondays, and was a prep day. Anyway, I’m 55 now but look back on those years as the best days of my life.
Mike Toomey can be emailed at: toomboom@comcast.net

Play It Again Sam

18TridentWoodyFive 18TridentWoodyFour 18TridentWoodyOne 18TridentWoodyThree 18TridentWoodyTwo