I'm going to admit it--I was a little afraid to go to Santa Cruz Island. It was a combination of a repeated dream of falling over the cliffs and being dropped off by a boat that was immediately heading back to the mainland, leaving us completely alone. I didn't feel a lot better when I saw about 50 backpackers on the island who looked a bit bedraggled, ready to head for home. Where in the world was I?
It turns out that following a choppy, cold 90 minute boat ride from Ventura that included seeing hundreds of dolphins and three whales blow, I found myself in a completely magical place, unlike anywhere I've ever been. I don't want to cheapen my memory of the Channel Islands with superlatives. However, I do want to provide some basic information since most Americans have limited knowledge of its whereabouts, significance and existence.
The Channel Islands, located in the Santa Barbara Channel off the coast of California, are sometimes known as the Galapagos Islands of North America because like the former, they have remained a separate land mass for thousands of years with plant and animal species found nowhere else on earth. The unique combination of warm and cold water currents and isolation from the mainland provides the perfect environment for marine life who live in the waters around the islands. Unlike nearly all other coastal regions in North America, human intervention has not greatly affected these regions, although heavy fishing has occurred at times over the last couple hundred years.
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| coastal live oak |
The same cannot be said for the interiors of the islands, having been trapped, ranched and hunted from the 1700's until mid 20th century. Gone are the sea otters, seals and sea lions, which are almost extinct. During the ice age, the islands were one land mass and home to a variety of animal life. 11,000 year old remains from a pygmy mammoth have even been unearthed there.
I found the topography of Santa Cruz fascinating. There were deep canyons, dizzying rock cliffs, immense meadows, dense forest. We hiked through all of these areas in awe, mile after mile with very few reminders that humans inhabited the space. As is often the case on long hikes, nature called for me and my small, insistent bladder. Due to the wide, open spaces, finding a private spot is difficult. So, RBK was my spotter. He said, "Our code word will be 'tippie-toe'" however, he didn't even finish the Seinfeld quote when over the rise appeared a couple of hikers. He yelled out, "Tippie-Toe, Tippie-Toe!! I'm not joking! Someone is really coming." (His voice betrayed the panic that was so George Constanza and his timing was impeccable.) Do you know impossible it is to stop peeing and pull up your pants while you're laughing hysterically? Good thing I was wearing the quick-dry hiking pants I bought last week in Tucson. (Even that sounds like Elaine writing the Peterman catalog.)
We returned to the smallish, enclosed transport boat to the mainland with 45 or so Boy Scouts who camped the weekend on Santa Cruz. Rough reintroduction to humanity.
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| Spring wildflowers |
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| Ice Plant, a non-native, invasive plant which soaks up salt from sea-spray and creates a "parched-earth" affect |
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