Prelude to the Channel Islands

The first book I ever read was the Islands of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell. It's the story of a native girl who was left behind when her tribe was taken off her island home by the Spanish. She lived alone on the Island for more than a decade fending for herself. It's based on a true story and took place on one of the Channel Islands (though not the one I am visiting). When my friend asked if I wanted to go backpacking on Santa Cruz island, I was very excited to see what it was like since the story of that girl completely alone for years has stayed with me all of my life.

To get to Santa Cruz island you have to take a ferry from Ventura on the mainland. We were to leave early in the morning and so we had reserved a campsite on the beach in Ventura where we would can't the night before. When we arrived in Ventura, however, the man at the kiosk told us that the primitive campground was only for RVs... I'm sorry? That's right you can only stay there in an RV, sorry. Why? Because there are no services, no facilities (it's primitive you see). Okay. As I turned around I noticed a bank of no less than 6 bathrooms. Apparently those are only for use by people who own RVs.

Ventura at sunset

Instead we stayed in a lovely Vagabond inn, light green with dark green doors. It was the kind of motor hotel with two stories, all the rooms opening to the outdoors, palm trees lining the parking lot (this is California, you know). There was a pool in the center of the U shaped bank of doors. A brightly lit neon blue kidney shining cheerfully in the night. We did not swim. No one swam, although I did see a pair of lovers rolling over each other in the hot tub. 

We walked to downtown Ventura and stood on a street corner doing the seven people deciding where to eat dance, you know the one: "here?" to the first restaurant we see, an overly fancy Mexican place. 

"What about that place, they look like they have slabs of meat," one person says. 

"Hey, Natural Grill?" I'm starving, starting to feel faint. 

"There, there is a taqueria," someone points down the street, but when we get there they are closing. We end up back at the fancy Mexican place, the first restaurant we saw. It has an ornate ceiling and twelve dollar guacamole. One of us gets a margarita with a beer attached to the side with some contraption, the opening below the surface of the cocktail. The waiter explains how this will unfold. As the margarita is consumed, lowering the level of the liquid, it will be replace with beer. The glass will remain full but the beverage will slowly become a beergarita as cocktail is replaced by lager and then just a beer in a margarita glass. I think any beverage that requires an orientation is probably unnecessarily complicated. My friend's dad, who ordered the drink looks amazed by the technology and pleased. We eat twelve dollar tacos and twelve dollar guacamole and then retire to our motor hotel.

I'm the morning we will drive to the marina and take a ferry to Santa Cruz island.