2008_June_14 Elkhorn Slough, Moss Landing, CA

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It is 70 degrees F and climbing as we depart Oakland at 9:20am. Packing involved carrying a few duffels to the camper with two sacks of food, filling the water tank, and we departed. With bedding, toiletries, maps, and staples already on board getting away for the weekend has never been easier.
With no particular deadline we had a relaxed morning of driving and luckily the traffic cooperated . We drove down 880, across the Bay on the San Mateo Bridge, up into the mountains on 92, then down 280- along the Crystal Springs water shed. From there, we hopped on 85 to 17 then over the coast range to Rt. 1 and down the coast to Monterey. This avoided almost all of the congestion around the Bay Area and the route is highly recommended.

By the time we reached the coast, the temperature had risen to high 80’s and then dropped back to the 50’s – all within 1.5 hours.
Within 2.5 hours we were nestled into a very pleasant campsite in the live Oak covered hills above the town of Monterey in Veterans Memorial City Park. This little pocket park is a small gem with well positioned sites, a central grassy play field, clean bathrooms, and NO RV hookups. Everyone was in a camper van or a tent. No generators either! For $25/night, with no reservations, its a first come , first served arrangement. The park is directly adjacent to Huckleberry Hill preserve – a marvelous Monterey Pine covered forest laced with a dense forest floor of….huckleberries. They were not ripe just now, but this is worth a trip when they are. Beware, the huckleberry bushes are laced and intertwined with lots of poison oak.

With an afternoon laid out in front of us, we tromped the 1.4 miles down hill to Monterey’s fisherman’s wharf/cannery row area. We had no clear map of where we needed to go beside downhill, so we wandered about looking at people’s gardens and sniffing the hot pine duff laced air mixed with a fresh sea breeze wafting up from the beach.

Ultimately as we followed Jefferson street, the houses gave way to bigger structures and all at once we were awash in tourists with strollers when we hit the wharf area. The insistent yelping of sea lions, gulls, and the lap of bay waves on the beach all combine to transform an otherwise outdoor shopping mall experience into a pleasurable distraction. We wandered up the street, looking out to the bay and kelp beds – eying floating otters and plenty of seabirds. We bypassed the Aquarium when we got there because the price of $24 was too steep for the afternoon time remaining before they closed. A word to the wise – get there early and pack a lunch and sunscreen.










The following day, Steve and Diane drove down from SF, Ross and Morgan drove up from Cal Poly and we all converged on Monterey Bay Sea Kayaks at Moss Landing to get outfitted with boats, and other related gear so we could explore Elkhorn Slough. From there, we schlepped our lunch loaded boats across the public parking lots and dipped into the calm bay waters.
Immediately we were surrounded by wildlife – the sea otters and seals have taken up residence on the sand spit that protects the harbor from the sea. We would be paddling against the tide all day, but now, fueled on the excitement of the abundant wildlife, we hardly noticed the effort of paddling. We exited the harbor, paddled under Rt.1 and entered the slough. It’s about ½ mile wide at its widest bounded by marsh on both sides much of the way. The tidal estuary extends almost 6 miles inland.

We saw fleets of brown pelicans, white pelicans, a few isolated great blue herons, plovers, and more. By far, the most unusual site was the sea otters, floating on their backs, cracking mussels, or clams on their stomachs peacefully as we floated by. Sea kayaking affords a great way to view the wildlife up close. Unfortunately, we needed to keep paddling most of the time to keep from getting sloshed back out to sea.

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2008-05-31 Tomalas Bay, CA Sea Kayaking

In a blur of activity we stuffed equipment into dry sacks, scurried about the house looking for and finding misc. odds and ends from the various closets and cubbies where we had stowed stuff, planned a simple menu, checked the internet for the cheapest fuel along the way, and we were off! Another great adventure in the making.

Car Camping options are somewhat limited near Point Reyes National Seashore for our first night, so we settled for a private campground on the edge of the park. It just so happens that the Santa Barbara Middle School had selected the same campground for their annual spring bike trip, so we shared the place with over 200 middle schoolers with the same number of bikes. Needless to say, it was a big boisterous, but there was no amplified music and everyone was quiet at a very reasonable hour. Actually we got a great campsite looking out over a wet land and hardly noticed anyone else at the campground.

The following morning, we met our friends Steve and Diane, and their good friends Olaf and his new wife and 1 year old son at a The Bovine Bakery in Point Reyes Station, where, over fresh scones and strong coffee we made final arrangements for provisioning. From there we set off to pick up and load the boats we were rentng from Bluewater Kayaking which is in Inverness, a sleepy, quirky, artsy quaint town tucked into the end of Tomalas Bay along the west shore. Inverness has a few restaurants, a library, a used book store and a collection of locals worthy of a Steinbeck novel.

Tomalas Bay lies directly above the San Andreas Fault, and is bounded on the west side by Point Reyes National Seashore and the Thule Elk Preserve, and on the east by very limited shore side residential development and the rolling agricultural lands of western Marin County. Here, the organic farming, and sustainable agriculture movement has taken a firm hold on the farming community, and the Nature Conservancy has been instrumental in assisting the local agricultural land trust organizations to
protect and reserve the areas scenic characteristics. A byproduct of this planning, is that Tomlas Bay flourishes with sea and bird life, and the water quality is exceptional supporting the local oyster farming outfits. Its somewhat constricted opening to the sea 10 miles westward permits the 4-5 food tide to flush the bay with fresh water twice per day.

We worked studiously to fit the weekend's worth of gear into three boats (two doubles and a single. (Olaf's wife and child hiked into the campsite after getting dropped off at the nearest trail head). Bags were reorganized, and refit, and then repacked again, but eventually, we pushed off the sand beach and paddled north in a dying ebb.

Immediately we were moving past pristine beaches and water side caves. Occasionally, there was a rickety, well aged dock protruding into the water, but there was no water level development on this side of the bay. We followed the shoreline northwest towards Marshall beach - our lunchtime and camping destination. Swallows darted overhead, and the large floats of grebes moved out just ahead of us. The water seemed almost warm as we dipped our paddles in getting the feel and balance of working together in the stable double boat like we do on the tandem bike.

We could see the wind building eastward against the ebb, and further out in the Bay, whitecaps were forming. Working the peddles in the rear compartment, I could adjust the thin rudder hanging off the stern to counter paddle strokes, wind, and waves which acted to push the boat off course.

Before I knew it, we had nudged our bow onto the smooth sand of Marshall Beach. There, above the high tide line,and waste high in the dune grass and ice plant was Olaf's wife and child patiently awaiting our arrival.

After a relaxing lunch sprawled out on the flake, we set up camp, unloaded the boats, then reloaded the food (since raccoons were known to be in the area) in our compartments and struck out for Hog Island, 4 miles further along the bay towards the ocean. The flood was building along with an on shore wind of 10-15 knots so paddling was becoming more difficult. We stuck to the shore, taking advantage of small eddies and the wind shadows from the shoreline fingers of sand but eventually there was nothing left to do but head out across open water to the island. Even though it seemed right within arms reach it took us 15 minutes of very continuous had work to reach the northern spit of the island. The southern (eastern) shore is a wildlife sanctuary with a seal rookery, so it is forbidden to land there.

Once we beached we were presented with unworldly view of a grove of mostly dead wispy eucalyptus trees covered with nesting cormorants. Seeing the trees covered with nests and fledgling birds was an amazing site. But to see a bird with webbed feet trying to stand on a tree branch is even more unusual. The parents looped overhead and took turns bring food the the nests. There was constant activity, like a bee hive overhead as we took our rest on the beach in preparation for the trip home.

2008 May 26, Lake Merrit, CA

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I couldn't stand painting one more minute so I grabbed the camera once the fog burned off today and swung over to the Lake Merritt Bird sanctuary in Oakland to wander about and look for fun.

There were hundreds of geese, doing what geese normally do in Oakland... looking for handouts and pooping everywhere. Once I got by the guard geese there was a wayward white pelican fishing in the lake, a night heron, and what I think is a juvenile night heron as well.

Refreshed with some bird sightings, I stopped off at Home Depot on my way home. Its really bad when you know the cashiers by first name!

2008-05-23 Horseshoe Cove, CA by boat

I could not seem to get all my Friday chores done soon enough. From the moment I awoke at 6:30am, I was thinking of my 1:30 departure for a sailing trip with Stu. My mental packing list was getting trimmed, and extended as I watched the treetops in our little canyon begin to move in reaction to the growing southwest wind filling in from the Pacific. Usually when the wind veers to this direction, a weather front is approaching. We had no specific itinerary planned and were determined to make up a plan based on what the currents and wind told us what was best.

Once the boat was provisioned, with our gear carefully stowed for what looked like would be a jolly romp, we motored out of the slip and headed west out of the estuary to the bay beyond. I wanted to be warm and comfortable, so I had dressed in my full foul weather gear and a warm hat.

It being a Friday afternoon, we had to share the narrow estuary waterway with the ocean going container ships that had recently been loaded, turned around, and we riding the same outgoing tide as we were. These monstrous ships never cease to amaze me, with the ungainly stacking of container upon container held in place primarily by gravity and good luck.

The wind has already built to the high teens before we reach the end of the estuary. The water is high, almost submerging the metal breakwater that protects the entrance to the estuary on the north side. We hoist the main in the wind shadow of Yuerba Buena Island and set our course. Unbelievably, the wind and current seem like they are sending us right out the Golden Gate bridge, without a single tack. Our plans gel, and we make for Horseshoe Cove, a small pocket harbor just inside the Golden Gate Bridge on the north side. Now the wind has built to over 20 knots and we are making great headway under the Bay Bridge. I look forward and to my amazement see the smooth humped back and dorsal fin of a dolphin. Usually, we don’t see these mammals until we are just outside the Golden Gate so it is quite a surprise. Perhaps because the commercial fishing season has been cancelled, the hunt for fish in the Bay is particularly good and it has drawn the dolphins in. Perhaps, they heard we were coming and swam over to coax us onward.

This is amazing, without a single tack, it looks as if we’ll make our destination. See the attached map. The cove is just to the north side of the Golden Gate Bridge.

There does not seem to be anyone on the bay, but us and the big ships. We monitor channel 14 on the VHF and keep a sharp lookout. Although these ships are big, they move very fast, and can come from invisible to directly in front of us in under 10 minutes. Twice we need to modify our course, falling off to speed up and adjust for ships, once for a container ship, and once for an oil tanker. As we reach the slot between Berkeley and the Golden Gate, the wind builds to over 26 knots and we are flying along at almost 7.

The boat swerves left and right as it adjusts to the gusts and eddies in the building weather front. I let it find it’s natural way in these puffs, rather than hold to a strict compass course. It’s a wild ride, with regular choppy waves crashing into the bow and washing the entire front deck of the boat only to be stopped and spread wide by the dodger. More than once I get a snout full of seawater – It would not be so bad, but I have this silly grin on my face than lets some of the salt water get past my soggy mustache.

At the far side of the bay, in the lea of the Marin Headlands in what is called hurricane gulch we come across hundreds of grebes – apparently sitting out the wind outside the gate (which we hear has built to over 50 knots!). We tuck in towards shore as close as we dare and drop the main sail, then the jib and prepare for anchoring.

The entrance to the cove is narrow, but deep, and we get sloshed in with a strong wind on our tail. There is a small marina tucked in the far end of the protected pocket harbor – watched over by the Presidio Yacht Club, – a tired old clapboard building just up from a rotting wharf. On the west side is a small coast guard station with three patrol boats. We make a 360 turn, scrub speed and drop the hook in 11 feet of muddy water. We immediately fall back being pushed by the wind and the anchor sets itself, stuck firmly in the mud bottom. Phew, we’ve arrived along with the heavy fog blowing in the gate. The wind carries away the traffic noise from the bridge deck and we are just left with the wind in the rigging and the slap of wavelets on the hull.
A new luxury hotel has been installed into a collection of the historic buildings at the other side of the parade grounds – and their orange lights sparkle in the mist. A loon floats by cleaning his feathers, and only as a second thought dives under the boat when we swing too close.

A feeling of well being swells up. I’m warm, in 4 layers of synthetic clothing, the yellow kerosene anchor light is lit, dangling from the backstay and flickering through it’s beveled lens, a warm cup of tea in my paws, I sit with Stu tucked under the dodger, and am amazed at our luck. With all the world’s troubles swirling around on the radio waves, and an entire city emptying out for labor day weekend on the highway less that ¼ mile above us on the mountainside, we are apart from it all. We hear the wind, and the gulls, and the fog horn at the center span. We have arrived.

08 May 22 Fort Cronkhite, Marin County

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