Chapter 5: Change the Channel!
“Great. More boats.” -- Indiana Jones, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
There are certain things we take for granted which need to be taken away in order for us to truly grasp how much we rely on them. Solid ground, for example. We just assume it will be there, ably supporting our steps as we go about our daily business. As it turns out, solid ground is hugely underrated. I’d rank it somewhere on the Underrated List between abundant oxygen and the brake mechanisms on our cars.
We reported to the boat harbor in Ventura, CA at 8:15 a.m. to get checked in for a day trip to Santa Cruz Island, part of
Channel Islands National Park. The Channel Islands are a series of eight islands (five of which comprise the actual park) off the coast of California. Two of the islands were given protection as a national monument in 1938, and then in 1980 three more islands were added and the land was designated as a national park.
My family and I are huge national park fans and love to try and visit them whenever we get the opportunity. And yes, we are completists when it comes to these types of things (see: our 50-state quest) and we do take a perverse pride in reaching some of the most out-of-the-way locations just to be able to say we’ve been there. When it comes to our national parks, though, we find that it is almost always worth the effort to see them, no matter how remote they are.
In the case of the Channel Islands, we could have cheated and just entered the Visitor’s Center at the harbor. And lest you think I am somehow above cheating, we have done that at some other parks (Biscayne National Park in Florida comes to mind). But we had a whole day, and “island” is in the park name, so it would have felt wrong not to try and set foot on the islands themselves.
But in order to get there, we needed to get on a boat.
Island Packers Cruises is the official concessionaire for the national park, so we booked a trip with them to the largest of the islands, Santa Cruz. I had originally looked at traveling to Anacapa Island (which is closest to shore) because it was supposed to have very nice views, but after doing some research I learned that the hiking probably wouldn't be enough to fill our day there, and the island happens to be overwhelmed with hordes of very aggressive seagulls. Pass.
So, Santa Cruz Island it was. Our cruise would leave Ventura at 9:00 a.m. and was scheduled to return at 4:00 p.m. The 22-mile journey would take between 1 and 1.5 hours to get to Scorpion Anchorage on the island (they have some cool names there).
We boarded with our group and got settled into a booth in the first-floor cabin. The staff went through the safety spiel, something something life jackets something blah blah restrooms blah blah refreshments available something something something high waves blah blah into the wind blah blah back of the boat if seasick.
Wait, what?
Julie had been paying more attention than me and calmly explained that the crew had informed us that it was windy today, the ocean was choppy, and we'd be heading into the wind on the way out to the island so it was likely to be a very choppy ride. Lovely.
The crew was telling us that if we felt sick, the best spot on the boat was on the first floor at the rear of the ship. Duly noted. We stayed where we were in the cabin.
Once we sailed into the open ocean, we lasted about ten minutes.
Julie was the first to move to the stern, and I was about 30 seconds behind her. The boat was getting tossed like a little kid on a trampoline, and it was definitely making us woozy. The stern was becoming a popular place early in the trip. Julie had found a spot on the bench next to a couple of other nice tourists, facing backwards toward the coast (which gave a nice reference spot for her to fix her eyes upon). By the time I got there, that bench had filled up, so I had to take a spot opposite her on a bench that faced toward the bow. Julie had already struck up a friendship with the people next to her, and after she introduced me they told me about the "facing backwards toward the shore" trick to try and calm my stomach. So I had to spin around at the waist and try and look behind me while the boat got tossed to and fro.
Normally Julie is the introvert and I'm the guy who strikes up conversation with the strangers around me, but this time it was Julie merrily chatting away while I concentrated solely on keeping my scrambled eggs in my stomach where they belonged. I had already reached Stage 1 of Seasickness.
Reminder:
- In stage 1, you are afraid that you will die.
- In stage 2, you are afraid that you won't.
In just a few more minutes, the kids had joined us on the stern and we were all white-knuckling the railing and trying desperately to breathe and hold on.
We only had another 45 minutes to go!
I know Julie introduced me to the people around her, but I can't for the life of me remember their names and I think I barely said two words to them the whole trip. My whole world had been reduced to breathing in and out, and staring at the coastline. Eventually the coast disappeared and I had to make do with trying to stare at the horizon. Inside my brain, my thoughts were something like this: "I think I'm sick...no, I'm ok...maybe not...no, I'm ok...don't throw up....I'm ok...I think the captain got his boat license out of a Cracker Jack box...I'm ok...."
I did every breathing exercise I could think of, almost willing my mind to another plane of existence. My stomach roiled inside me, and I could almost pick out individual droplets of water in the air as the waves crash around me. I felt as though I was outside myself, objectively observing my body spun around on that bench. For a moment, I almost felt as though I could understand all those Tim Burton movies featuring Johnny Depp in weird makeup. Or at the very least, I now knew how he came up with his ideas.
I should mention that we all took bonine (a non-drowsy motion-sickness medicine) before climbing aboard. I'm convinced that stuff is a miracle drug, because I've been seasick three times in my life but never once after taking that stuff. This was the closest I'd ever come, but somehow taking that and sitting at the stern kept Stage 2 at bay.
A guy up on deck 2 was not so lucky. About halfway through the trip we heard some of the most horrible retching sounds I've ever heard in my life. It was almost comical--it just sounded so over-the-top. If the guy had been auditioning for a scene in a movie where his character was sick I would have told him to dial it back some. It went on for some time--the poor guy was not having a good day. I'm sure his breakfast had tasted better the first time.
Somehow, against all odds, we made it to Santa Cruz Island. The waters in the harbor were calmer and we eagerly climbed onto the dock and enjoyed the sensation of standing still for a moment. We passed around some bottles of water as well, although we had to be careful not to drink too much because the island had no services whatsoever. Any supplies--food, water, etc.--had to be brought with you and taken back when you left.
That was a manageable concern, however. The larger concern in the back of my head was that I was going to have to make that same boat trip back to the mainland.
The island is popular with outdoors adventurers--they'll take a boat ride out, then camp for several days, spending their time hiking on land and kayaking in the coves along the island's coast. Here are some of the kayakers setting out next to the landing where our dock was.
Scorpion Ranch is the remains of a small settlement on the island from the early 1900's. It now houses a tiny unmanned visitor center for the park. The important thing here is that we could get a stamp for our national park passport--this one was hard-earned.
We gathered ourselves and then set off on our hike.
We had chosen to do a loop trail that led to the Potato Harbor overlook. The entire loop would be 5 miles round trip and included a long stretch along the coast. I assumed that portion would have the best views, so I saved it for last and we set off on the inland portion of the trail.
I was right. This part was uphill and not as exciting.
But after a gentle climb for a mile and a half or so, we reached the northern edge of the island and wandered west a bit. There was a spot here where some people had gathered just short of the actual overlook, but they seemed to be enjoying the view here.
We took on the last portion of the trail, climbing a slope and rounding a bend to find Potato Harbor.
And yes, it's very pretty, but that name is a load of crap. There wasn't a signal potato to be found anywhere. I was at least hoping to be able to munch on some french fries.
It was also extremely windy here, to the point where I almost lost my hat, and I started to understand why those other people had gathered at the spot back down the trail instead. We decided to do the same and have our picnic lunch back down there.
No one would call our PB&J sandwiches a gourmet meal, but after you've endured a major battle with motion sickness and hiked all morning on an island with no facilities whatsoever, it's amazing how good a peanut butter sandwich and a bottle of water can taste. Well, not the bottle. The water.
We spent a good part of the afternoon hiking the rest of the loop trail along the northern coastline, enjoying the views.
Yes, the kids are all faster than us now.
Near the end of the trail, we came to a ridge with a view of Scorpion Anchorage, and could see a boat at the dock. This was not our boat, however--there was an earlier trip back. It simply served as a reminder that we were going to have to get back somehow.
With the hike done, it was mid-afternoon and honestly, we didn't have much to do at that point. I'd thought the hike would take up most of the day but we'd completed it faster than I thought we would. We took the opportunity to sit down on a picnic bench at Scorpion Ranch and rested our legs for a bit. At one point, I think we even closed our eyes and took a nap.
The island serves as a large nature preserve, and there are several species of plants and animals that only exist here. One is the island fox, and we spotted a couple of them wandering around the grounds, scavenging for food.
Another is the island jay (I sense a theme in the naming conventions here), a form of blue jay.
We wandered aimlessly for a bit and then decided to head to the dock early. Our strategy here was simple--if we were first in line (i.e. Rope Drop Strategy), then we would be able to head straight for the stern and snag the bench facing backwards. So we had to wait for a while, but we honestly had nothing else to do. And--wouldn't you know it?--Rope Drop always works.
When it was time to board, we got our favorite bench. We settled in, tried to steel our bellies, and bid farewell to Santa Cruz Island.
Luckily, this return trip wasn't as bad. Moving with the wind helped, so the movement didn't feel quite so dramatic. No word on how the guy on deck 2 was doing, but we figured silence was a good thing.
We returned to Ventura Harbor around 5:00 p.m. and happily climbed ashore. I told you--solid ground is very, very underrated.
Overall, my view of Channel Islands National Park is as follows:
I'm glad I saw it.
I don't feel the need to make that trip again.
Huh. That kind of makes it sound like
Carhenge when I put it like that. I would tell you how it ranks in our family's overall rating of national parks if I could ever get my kids to fill it out. They start leaving for college and suddenly it's like they have other priorities or something. Kids.
We still had a drive to Anaheim ahead of us, and it was now The Witching Hour (also known as rush hour) on California freeways. But we had come prepared with a strategy for this, having spent time under the tutelage of Alison, the LA Freeway Sensei. She recommended that we drive to the city of Moorpark, stop and have dinner at a place called
Wood Ranch Barbeque, and wait out the traffic before heading to Anaheim in the evening. Not wanting to anger our sensei, that's exactly what we did.
I'd called ahead and made a reservation for dinner, and we actually timed it pretty well, arriving about 5 minutes early. We got seated right away at the BBQ joint and immediately asked for their vegan menu.
Sorry, just seeing if you are paying attention. When you hike five miles and survive the open ocean, Vacation Rules state that you can order as much junk food as you want. So we gorged on ribs, brisket, starchy sides and tri-tip sandwiches.
All of was very good. We'd gotten off to a good start with our food on this trip.
Afterwards, we made the drive to Anaheim without much incident other than a slowdown here or there. We pulled into the
Hyatt Place at the Anaheim Resort/Convention Center after dark and got ourselves checked into a suite. Whenever you enter a new, strange place, it's important to get yourself oriented for security purposes--how is the hotel laid out? Where is the nearest exit? If the elevator is disabled, how do you reach the stairs? And most importantly, what does the alarm sound like?
Ah, yes. It sounds like whoop whoop. I can't tell you how comforting it is to have that information.
Well, now we had our security taken care of and were settled in to a hotel in Anaheim for the next 5 nights. If only there was something worthwhile to do around here.
Coming Up Next: You will meet the Man, the Myth, the Legend: Jeff. When Chuck Norris goes to bed at night, he dreams that he could be Jeff.
Pretty much That being said, I drive past some golf courses every day and I think they're probably fairly cool. Not 17 mile drive cool, but still pretty cool.
I guess it's a good thing I avoided it, then. The line looked like it lasted much longer than the actual ride.
and thank you for reading along!
Figured that was the reason.
There's just no good way around DC.
My fault, thinking people would go to watch the game.
I'm going to guess some substances were involved here.
