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.

The Christmas Quilt

This is a Hawaiian quilt, ginger motif that I did for my mother's birthday in June. Well, ok, she got it for Christmas. She is ninety years old and can remember all the words to songs from a long time ago, but day to day memory is troublesome. She may or may not remember who made the quilt or why, and who knows how long she will appreciate it, yet, it was important to finish it. Mom has written a book about her time running a roadhouse in Alaska, when she was 17 and those memories are the ones that count for her.

We were struck with the power of the ocean this trip as those logs in front were rocking with the force of the spent waves. A coastal trip north would need to be done twenty miles from shore, with full watch schedules in order to avoid any floaters like this.

Mom's beach on a stormy, wet day is better than the best day in any city.

Into the wet........

Between Eureka and Crescent City is a small red school house and several large field where these traffic stoppers live.....hundreds of them...along with many signs warning drivers to watch for them. There is one huge problem - the road is windy and you can be face to face with them at any given moment. They look calmly at the dogs inj the van who look back with frantic barking. Finding the surprise of the elk among the redwoods is great, but as we have done this road so many times we try to be very quiet so the dogs don't raise a ruckus.
While walking down to the beach at Mom's, there is a herd of deer that come down the river that empties into the ocean - and the deer calmly walk throught the neighboorhood chomping on everyone's landscaping. This time, the dogs just stared them down. A portion of the Brookings Harbor
and the river is in the background of the cottage.

This homeowner has a great view.

All the chart books talk about going across the bar at slack tide, and the photo below shows why. Extremely dangerous, at almost any time. Summertime has calm waves, but the waves breaking in the mouth of the channel were pretty intimidating following this winter storm. I don't think so for any crossing in the winter.

It was raining too hard to show the foam and whitewater from the surf in front of the harbor. When the sun comes out here, Brookings is a magical place. In a storm it is awe inspiring with crashing surf heard into the center of town, mists blanketing the hills, and wet, wet, wet. Even more magic,

Legislating nature.....

There are four marinas down here in the south part of the Bay: Pete's, Docktown which is derelicts and nice houseboats, the "new" one out in the Salt flats and the municapal, which has about 6 boats on the channel and and larger marina area by Sequoia Yachtclub, which has some good memories for us. We are considering joining, just to meet some people and be forced to join cruise -ins on the Ba.

These are some of our neighbors. We never used to see pelicans here, that I can remember and would startle a night heron on our dock or see a few seals.. The view is across the channel, looking towards San Mateo, which today has hills covered in snow. Both heaters are going on the boat, which is a toasty 48 degrees f. We had a lovely quiet weekend at Linda's, celebrating my birthday. We will celebrate her's and Sandy's and mine next month with a spa or some fun thing to do hopefully in a place where we are not shivering to pieces.
We presently live in this harbor, and are down channel next to the tallest mast in the top photo. There is an inner harbor which has some elegant and some tremendously ratty boats, which haven't moved in years, mostly liveaboards, and someone estimated that there are about 50 dogs living aboard throughout the harbor.There is a dog walk/poop area, and we all check to make sure we arn't interfering with others trying to "walk" their dogs, as there is a lot of growling and posturing, especially from the smaller critters. The two shepherds lunge and try to act like silent killers on the prowl while we are pulled, flailing and ungainly, trying to keep them under control and smiling bravely. Your cool is shot, though, when you carry the poop bags over to the dumpster. Such is the adventurous yacht life.

It is possible to ride bikes all along the bay front, paved and unpaved, however, you can't run the dogs there , or enter the fields any more as we used to do. Signs all over prohibit anyone human daring to think of stepping into what is now called habitat. Where before it was homeless habitat in places. It is very urban here, and the sense that there is a large swath of nature just means you can look, but don't touch. The drawback is that where there are houses along the bay, they get to smell the low tide mud, twice daily.

Not stuck in Lodi, again......

Thanksgiving was magic in the soft light of lovely Lodi. The colors of the huge trees were astonishing in their brilliance, with leaves everywhere. A big wind storm tried to get rid of the last hangers on but didn't succeed when we were there. Bridget and Dave made an incredible meal, with 12 of us sitting together. Champagne not only goes well with turkey, but goes well with everything - don't ever let anyone tell you differently.

There was abundance, color, and new fun people - light filtering through the leaves to sparkle on more leaves. Blazing reds and golds. Solid, older homes, small town main street with people doing black Friday shopping - it is middle America at its best: us gypsies really appreciated it. Bridget and Dave skunked us at Trivial Pursuit and we slept the sleep of the sated to go home to attend St. Peter's, Redwood City on Sunday.

Now, that was spooky, as there were wonderful times there, and some pretty disturbing, distressing times, due to church politics. The liturgy has changed greatly, and some familiar faces were welcoming - since 1993, you may ask. But it was the first Sunday of Lent and we sang an anthem to the tune of St. Patrick's breastplace - which is the music with very different words for all great church occaisions and my ordination. Is it a sign of age when one is disturbed about changes in church liturgy? Humph.