Candy jar molds, in the far corner of the paint shop.
A clicky-flippy clock is having some kind of malfunction.
A bunk room, minus the bunks.
One of a few rolling workbenches to keep the thousands of pulleys, cogs, and belts working properly.
Those able to work would be compelled to help fix up the facility, grow, harvest, and prepare food for fellow ‘inmates’, or work on vocational skills.
A simple porcelain fountain in the original brewhouse. The water fountain, no doubt, is not original.
As photographed from a cement piling for Slip #3 poured in 1935, disconnected from land by erosion. How do I know the date? A pair of steamship engineers carved their initials and ranks into the wet cement!
What you see is not a crack in the floor, but a long vine extending ten feet onto the shop floor, as if reaching in to escape the wind and rain.