Captain Edgar “Ned” Wakeman (1812 – 1886) The Sea Captain Who Inspired Mark Twain

Wakeman grave marker (photo Michael Colbruno) and Headshot

Plot 1, Lot 25, Grave 3

Captain Edgar “Ned” Wakeman was one of those larger-than-life 19th-century mariners whose exploits blurred the line between truth and legend. Described by Mark Twain as “a great, burly, handsome, weather-beaten, symmetrically built and powerful creature, with coal-black hair and whiskers and the kind of eye which men obey without talking back,” Wakeman’s tales of the sea thrilled and influenced one of America’s greatest writers.

Wakeman’s career was filled with escapades that Twain later immortalized in fiction. One of the most famous stories—likely told to Twain firsthand—involved the steamboat New World, which Wakeman “borrowed” from authorities after it was impounded for debt. Pretending to “warm up” the ship’s engines, Wakeman invited the sheriff and his deputies below deck for refreshments, only to raise full steam and cast off into the open sea. When confronted at gunpoint, Wakeman coolly declared, “I’m sorry, but we’re at sea now, and I am the law.” He eventually set his captives ashore unharmed and went on to live out a pirate’s adventure that took him to Brazil, Trinidad, and beyond. 

Wakeman with wife and advertisement for adventure

His resourcefulness was legendary. When he arrived in Rio de Janeiro without papers to prove command of the New World, he staged a theatrical “accident,” toppling into the harbor with a tin box supposedly containing his documents. The sympathetic American consul quickly provided replacements—allowing Wakeman to sail on to Peru and Panama, always one step ahead of the law. 

Mark Twain met Captain Wakeman in 1866 aboard the steamship America, sailing from San Francisco to New York. The two formed a deep, if unlikely, friendship. Twain was captivated by the captain’s mix of bluster, humor, and humanity, and he later drew on Wakeman for several of his most memorable sea-going characters—Captain Blakely in Roughing It, Captain Hurricane Jones in Some Rambling Notes of an Idle Excursion, and most notably, Captain Stormfield in Captain Stormfield’s Visit to Heaven. Through these portraits, Twain preserved the spirit of his old shipmate: part philosopher, part pirate, and entirely unforgettable.  

Books about and inspired by Captain Wakeman

Wakeman’s later years were less romantic. By the early 1870s, he was paralyzed and living in poverty near San Francisco. Twain, then living in Hartford, Connecticut, learned of his old friend’s condition and wrote an impassioned open letter, “Appeal for Capt. Ned Wakeman,” published in the Alta California. He urged San Franciscans to come to the captain’s aid:

“I have made voyages with the old man when fortune was a friend to him... and now that twenty years of rough toil on the watery highways of the far West find him wrecked and in distress, I am sure that the splendid generosity which has made the name of California to be honored in all lands will come to him in such a shape that he shall confess that the seeds sowed in better days did not fall upon unfruitful soil.”

The letter is among the most tender and human of Twain’s public writings, a reminder that behind the humorist’s wit was deep loyalty and compassion. According to the blog "Books Tell You Why," it appears that Wakeman received little help from the appeal. 

Both Twain and Wakeman were drawn to San Francisco, then the rough-and-ready gateway to the Pacific. Twain had come west as a journalist during the 1860s, finding work at the Morning Call and later the Alta California, where he honed his distinctive voice. Wakeman, for his part, made the port city his home base after decades of global voyages. The two men—one a restless sailor, the other a restless writer—found in San Francisco a community of dreamers, schemers, and storytellers who thrived at the edge of the known world.  

Oakland home of Capt. Wakeman (Oakland Tribune)

Captain Edgar “Ned” Wakeman died in 1886 and was buried in Plot 1 with many of Oakland's early pioneers. Unfortunately, he did not live to see the publication of his memoir. "Log of an Ancient Mariner," which was published three years after he passed away.

His epitaph might well have been borrowed from Twain’s Captain Stormfield: “He never meant any harm, but he was built for adventure.” Through Twain’s pen, Wakeman’s boldness, wit, and humanity have sailed on far longer than any of his ships.

Sources: Look and Learn (May 24, 2013); Alta California (Dec. 14, 1872); Mark Twain’s Appeal for Capt. Ned Wakeman; Library of Congress; California State Library; Find a Grave.com (link); Oakland Tribune; ebay.com; Bancroft Library