sea birds

There is more to the unusual beauty of Bandon By The Sea than sea stacks. This photo is from one of the beach walks we took while we were visiting 3 weeks ago is an example.

Graceful wooden walkways down to the beach add to the beauty. A fine mist was working its way inland.

There were two sets of stairs down to the beach, this one that started near the Face Rock parking lot and the one above that was located to the north . The driftwood next to the stairs here had been tossed up by winter storms over time.

Down on the beach the waves had carried in a large tree; its roots are shown here.

We found this blog-worthy piece of driftwood on our walk into Devil’s Kitchen when we were heading out to explore the tide pools.

This rattlesnake grass gets its name from the seed pods that resemble the rattles on a rattlesnake.

I liked the contrast here of the dried grass and green shrubs caught in the evening sunset.

Peggy enjoyed the flower gardens that grew on the sea stacks.

And, of course, Bandon had its share of seals lollygagging on the rocks off its shore.

As we have seen on our trip up the coast, offshore sea stacks/islands play host to myriads of nesting sea birds. This island, like most of them along the coast, is a marine sanctuary. Most of the dots are Brandt cormorants…

But murres were also nesting on the rock in their usual numbers. When they are packed together, each murre occupies around six square inches to raise its chick. I read that the parents come back to their same six inches year after year.

An information board along the walkway above the beach included a photo of one of the Murre’s oddly shaped, colorful eggs. Each egg has a different pattern that its parents can recognize. When the chick reaches 3-4 weeks of age (even before it can fly), it’s time to say goodbye to its tiny space. Dad flies down to the ocean and calls to the chick while mom hangs out above. (I wonder if she gives her baby the boot.) Anyway, baby takes the leap and flutters down to dad, who then takes it out to the ocean to feed it fish until it can fly and hunt for its own fish.

When we were exploring tide pools at Devil’s Kitchen in Bandon, Peggy noticed a pair of pelagic cormorants nesting in the rocks above us. Unlike the Brandt cormorants shown above, they seem happy hanging out on their own.

Whether they were curious about us or nervous, they watched us closely. Note their crests.

We also spotted the first pigeon guillemots we had seen on our trip.

Check out those red feet! When the male courts the female, it walks in circles around her showing them off. “Oh, what bright shiny red big feet you have,” is the hoped for response.

I was trying to catch a photo of an oyster catcher when a wave hit the rock. This was the result.

This was the sea stack where we checked out tide pools and saw the pelagic cormorants, pigeon guillemots and the oyster catcher. Note the California gull way up on top. Peg and I noticed that there would often be one perched on the highest point of the sea stacks.

On the way back to our truck a crow feasted on a giant sand flea.

Here’s what it looks like. When I was a kid we used to visit my grandparents down on the central coast of California. My grandfather loved surf fishing and would put my brother Marshall and me to work capturing these guys. Fish go crazy for them. When a wave retreats you look for small holes with bubbles coming out and dig! As I recall, our grandfather gave us a nickel for each one of the delicacies….. a fortune!

I’ll wrap up our Bandon posts with a photo of a fishing boat that was docked at the marina. Next up, our “backyard”, on the Siuslaw River in Florence, Oregon. Question: Who wins the windblown look?

Have you ever found a message in a bottle or a tin washed up on a seashore? Or dreamed of finding one? We did last week on Drakes Beach at Pt. Reyes National Seashore.

I was walking along Drakes Beach with my friend Tom Lovering when he spotted a tin with a top on it in the sand. Peggy and Tom’s partner Lita were walking behind us. “Open it up, Tom,” we urged. He was already worrying the lid. There was a treasure inside. Someone’s comb with artificial pearl beads and seashells all held in by candle wax. And a letter! It had been brought in on the day’s high tide. Had it come from afar after weeks/months/years of travel. Or had a person thrown it into the ocean that morning with hopes that it would wash out to sea? There wasn’t a clue.

The letter. It was slightly damp and wrinkled but still easy to read. I’ve repeated the words below.

“Please help it all come to fruition. Please help it to translate. I know I am not wrong. Help me sing my heart’s song fearlessly and without doubt. The people I am meant to find, the life I am meant to live, the love I am meant to share— I know it’s all there. I work so hard toward it. I see it like a light in the distance. Help guide me to it. Help me go out and do it. Help me do it right and win this fight. I love you, humbly and without question. I’m depending on you. I know you won’t let it be a sad story, or a tragedy. Now help me to make it all right.”

One can only speculate on the sender, but I imagine a young woman (given the comb) asking for help. She is bright, and possibly troubled, but has faith and hope that her future will turn out right. Thoughts? Tom put the message back in the tin with the lid on it and left it on the beach for some other person to discover. We listened to Jim Croce’s Time in a Bottle when we got back to camp.

These towering cliffs are the same ones that Sir Francis Drake would have seen on his 1579 voyage around the world. They reminded him of England’s Cliffs of Dover. With his ship in serious need of repair, he had pulled into the bay. The belief that this is where he landed for repairs led to the bay being named Drakes Bay and the beach, Drakes Beach.

This is Tom. We go way back. “Fifty years” he reminded me. We met in 1974.

He had a bit more hair when this was taken in the late 70s.

He had even more in 1974 when I had walked into Alpine West, a popular outdoor gear store in Sacramento at the time. I was seeking a sponsor for the Sierra Trek, a hundred mile backpack trek across the Sierra Nevada Mountains that I had dreamed up to raise funds for the Sacramento Lung Association and future Breathe California. A hippie-looking 20-something was standing behind the counter. I walked over and asked him if I could speak to the owner or manager. “I am the owner,” Tom had told me rather stiffly. Oops! I introduced myself as the Executive Director of the Lung Association and explained what I wanted to do. “You’re crazy,” he had told me. “People may survive it but they will hate you and the Lung Association afterwards.” It wasn’t exactly what I was hoping to hear from one of Sacramento’s leading outdoor experts. But then he offered to sponsor the event… I left a little confused. If they hated the Lung Association, wouldn’t they hate Alpine West as well? We’ve been having adventures together ever since 1974. He’s been though several successful careers over the years. I’ll introduce his latest in my next post: creating a powerful, battery-operated blender. He couldn’t stop talking about it. But for now, back to Drakes Beach and another popular beach on Drakes Bay: Limantour.