La or El nino rules.....excess

Channel Islands, from Santa Barbara---Rain, rain, rain...

Looking south from the lanai on a morning between storms

Loon Point Beach, and these were the smaller waves the day after the storms were over.,

New Beach, Same weather

Brookings on a typical winter's day, the waves silvering in the little bit of blue, and then south to the damp cold of the boat. My friend Barbara offered us her house in Santa Barbara, so the boat held us for a day only. California is green, green, green from the recent rains and the ocean is brown and murky along the shorelines from the last week's five storms. We moved into Barbara and Dick's house, hit Trader Joes and Blockbuster and had the best view of the storms from high in the hills. The ocean was pure foam and wild, with individual monster waves visible even from up here. The fourth storm brought snow on the "mountains" behind the house, and a trip to the harbor found about ten boats washed up and stuck on the beach. Fool's Harbor is what the locals call the anchorage in front of the city, and a wild dance of masts went on for a week. We were warm, dry and happy and wondered what the poor people were doing.

Haiti. That's what they were doing. I had been there a few yars ago with a group of clergy, and stayed in the hotel that collapsed. There were familiar views of places we had visited, and heartbreaking views on the tv of so many people in trouble. The need is overwhelming and the administration of any help and supplies is chaotic. So we are warm, dry, sheltered, and heartsick for the lovely people who showed me their incredible spirit in spite of their poverty. We are in one of the wealthiest enclaves in the world and the contrast with what I have seen and we are now seeing is too far apart to describe. Unreal.

Apres le deluge, le earthquake, le non tsunami......

These critters may be some of the missing San Francisco harbor seals/sea lions, but these have taken over some docks in Moss Landing. When we biked by later the docks were empty save for a young man who had some sort of water weapon

used, supposedly to deter dock landings. As if. As soon as the young man left, the lions climbed back on the docks. After some of the docks in San Francisco sunk because of the sea lion landings/loadings, new docks were built, not for boats, but for tourism. The numbers grew over the last few years from a few hundred to about 4,000. And this winter they have disappeared save for a few diehards, disappointing all the tourists who have come from all over the world. The word on the street/ocean/ and argument from naturalists is that they are all now playing and eating plentiful herring and multiplying at Oregon's Sea Lion Caves. I say arguing as the naturalists don't seem to understand the sudden increase in numbers of the critters at the Caves. Well, duh.

We, too, are back in Oregon taking care of the elders. There was a writer who said that if you lived on or near a beach, there would be no good reason to not walk it every day. That writer was correct, although the constant rain and 55mph wind as well .as the care demands of the elders sort of shuts down the daily walk. The surf has been incredible and being able to let the dog's run on Mom's beach is worth being out in the wind and rain.

There was a 6.5 earthquake about 100 miles south of Brookings this week. We didn't feel a thing as Mom's house is concrete, including the walls. There was some damage in stores, historic buildings losing their decoration, and a lot of nervousness about a potential tsunami. Robert was coming back from a hospital visit and driving along the coast where it was low and open to wave action and until he arrived back in the "high country" there was some concern about an unscheduled visit to the beach. When a tsunami was forecasted in Hawaii, I had been recovering from an operation in Lanikai. Robert called me from his office in downtown Honolulu and told me to blow up the inflatable dinghy, get my jewelry and get on board. My response to Robert was, "What jewelry?"

Tourists in Monterey Peninsula

Part of the new year get with it program is to get healthy. Yeah, I know - we say that every year, but this year we mean it. We both lost weight in the move and with the work on the boat, and the "sort of Zone" diet we have been following, we need to keep this lifestyle up. I say this after eating three huge cookies called Blondies (caramel and pecans, yum). So we loaded up the bikes and tried to follow the old road alongside Highway 1, tourist area in the Monterey Peninsula. Those guys and girls, at least they looked like girls, in the sleek little tight pants and jackets zipped by us. As it was freezing, big waves, windy and the usual January California weather, I wore everything I could and after the uphill slog, was sweating. There are little byways where you can take your car just so far to get to the beach, and absolutely no damn dogs allowed, but people were exploring the area so we would have to slalom around them. The bikes are 21 speed types that let you go up steep hills, supposedly without breaking a sweat. Supposedly is right - and it isn't true about never forgetting how to ride a bike. I kept trying to find the right combination of gears. Think on it: twenty one gears compared to the Schwinn we all learned on. Wobbling up hill, trying not to notice the looks of pity from those sleek damn yuppies and trying to get the right combination, thighs burning, and getting to the top was, well, exhilirating. Sort of. Downhill is another story - I sometimes get off and walk for fear of pitch poling right into the sand dunes. We have also been watching the great adventures of people on the Nature programs who walk the Continential Divide Trail, or the Appalachian trail. Not one ounce of fat on them. Ok. We get the picture. Then there are those who run marathons. Again, not an ounce of fat on them. We stopped backpacking when I complained my back was too out of it to carry a pack. We did Haleakala and Kalalau hikes so many times that we felt wonderful after a week of just being with nature and were fit. So the word for the new year, is to continue this quest and to find some beaches where dogs can run free. What is with this bit of legislated wilderness? Most people pick up their dog messes and the beaches along the California coast are huge and there is more than enough room for people, surfers, dogs and other assorted wierdos. So what the hell is with the deal of treating dogs and their owners as suspect? Perhaps it is a fear of litigation, bad dogs, bad owners, etc. It is frustrating to just find a place where they can just race their butts off. Dog parks are suspect. Come to think of it, so are some of the people we see on the beaches.