After rounding Webster Point, the current easily carries me between
Sutil Island and the southern side of Santa Barbara.
I temporarily forget about another day of howling winds and
instead revel in the sea lion circus on the east side of the island. The
younger sea lions torpedo toward my kayak, several glancing the hull
of my boat. A massive blowhole spews like a fire hydrant at the base
of a gritty bluff, showering the flippered occupants. Western gulls
and Brandt’s cormorants congregate with thousands of sea lions
while sooty shearwaters swoop overhead. It’s a good way to start off
another blown-out day before hunkering down on the landing dock.
When night falls, it’s eerily still. Will it hold? I sleep little, and
early into day 10, I lace up my trail shoes and run for Signal Peak,
the highest point on the island at 635 feet. It’s confirmed. The ocean
has simmered to a sheet of glass. I run back to the landing cove
and pack my gear, and beyond the whistling wheeps of a black
oystercatcher I can hear the faint hum of the Island Packers ferry.
92
winter
|
spr ing
FAR
FLUNG
TRAVEL