10/30-31
Ecology class field trip to Anacapa Island, an hour’s ferry ride from SoCal’s vast, vulgar, meretricious landscape of freeways and single-family homes. If Colorado led me to believe that ecological devastation is nearer to us, more widespread, and more uglifying than people sitting indoors realize, Anacapa showed that undreamed-of beauty still exists in our backyard.
We saw hundreds of common dolphins and three humpback whales just on the boat over. The island’s brown pelicans, formerly endangered due to DDT-weakened eggshells, lorded over the cliffs in their thousands. We put on snorkels and climbed down the rusted ladder from the boat landing into the heaving turquoise. The cold seized control of my gasping lungs. Ropes of kelp tugged at my treading legs. Afterward, back on land, my whole body shook for half an hour. But when I reined in my breath enough to submerge my face, the clear water made a window, and through it I saw a fat orange Garibaldi fish and tangled kelp stretching down to the bottom swaying far below.
It’s always a good idea to get out and go searching. Is SoCal sitting on an underwater Serengeti? Were Ventura and Los Angeles this rich abovewater, once? Anacapa’s name comes from the indigenous Chumash people, who called the island Anyapax — “Illusion.” Where the illusion lies depends on which way you look.