Centinela, Willows, Christy - Extracurricular Exploring

My last few weeks on Santa Cruz Island passed by so quickly, I can hardly distinguish when I was where or who I was with. It was a blur flying across my vision, a bird whose form burned a memory into my brain but whom I couldn't quite identify with the memory alone. I will break the weeks down into highlights:

Mama Kerry and Rust, the crew's '77 Land Cruiser, atop the Ridge

My mom came to visit--a wonderful treat for both of us. We hiked to Pelican Bay from Prisoner's Harbor, and I was introduced to a whole other side of the island--an island so diverse it feels like it would take months of exploring, years even, to really get to know all the different micro-climates and unique habitats. Pelican Bay itself looks tropical with aqua waves lapping the black biotite swaths of rock covered with brick-and-spearmint colored lichens. We saw flashes of bright orange under the clear rippling liquid. Giant Goldfish? No, it was a Garibaldi, I found out later, which turns out to be the state fish of California. Once back to the field station, we took off exploring and drove to Centinela, where the relict population of Bishop Pines begins in scatters of lone straggly pines and becomes thicker and thicker until you see off in the distance that it becomes a forest that blankets the steep slopes and canyons.

Bishop Pines, looking West.

My dad also came to visit. I took a day off and we took the Land Cruiser up the ridge road, then down the Willows road until it ended, and hiked down the wash to Willows Beach. It is secluded and breathtakingly beautiful, like a lost cove no one had ventured to before. There are two rocky spires sticking out of the water just 50 meters or so offshore, one of which is called Ship Rock. We walked the soft beach and clamored on the rocky shore beneath cliffs with cool exposed geologic formations. The sea was clear and blue again, but this time we could touch it and it was COLD, so it seemed less tropical than Pelican Bay. It was great to have my dad around.

Willows Beach with Shiprock at left.

 

 

Christy Ranch, the old old house, with cypress trees.

During my last week on the island, we had a field trip day and the whole crew drove out to Christy Beach, on the west side of the island. There is an old ranch there with what could be the oldest building on the island, built by Justinian Caire in the mid-to-late 1800s. The beach was vast and smooth and covered with little tar balls that got all over my feet. The rocks geology was amazing--huge smooth ripples of sandstone with boulders and fossils lodged into them, capturing time. It was windy so we only stayed for an hour or two, but we had a picnic lunch by the old adobe, which is supposedly haunted by a woman who washed ashore on the beach after throwing herself from the ship she was on. It was creepy, but I would've loved to spend the night and see the Green Lady for myself.

Christy Beach, looking north as Sinead walks down the beach.

Small boulder sticking out of sandstone. 

As the days wound down, I said goodbye to my many Jay friends one by one. The Sirius pair in Coches, La Negra and her mate GUY/AP (the Negra Modelo pair) in Portezeula, and the charismatic Kennedys, Hillary Clinton, as well as Dalia and Castro at Field Station. Of course there were many others, but these ones stuck out in my mind as favorites. On my last day, Hillary took a peanut out of my hand. I was thrilled. I got to see Dalia and Castro's brown-headed baby in the creepy bird tree outside the Cabins--it looked almost grown but with a hint of a gape and a head full of brown baby feathers. I named it Fidelito, after Castro's real son, Fidelita if it turns out to be female.

Saying bye to the crew was just as hard. I feel privileged to have known these four humans in the three months on the Island. It is always sad to leave a group, sadder when you know your lives are taking you far away from each other, but happy because you know that you became close enough to visit and continue the friendship. It is really just "see ya later!". I had a great time learning everyone's quirks, habits, thoughts, and sometimes dreams, and I hope they felt the same about me.

Until next time, Santa Cruz Island, whenever that may be!

The Sirius female, YGO/AY, sitting on her nest.

Hillary Clinton, taking a peanut from the Cabin railing.

See more of my Santa Cruz Island photos at picasaweb.google.com/oreothlypiscelata