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PELAGIC PILGRIMAGE
J
ust after sunrise, I rounded the south side of Anacapa Island and
its lighthouse on the east end of the narrow isle. For the remainder
of the day, I kept the Santa Monica Mountains to my east until the
late afternoon when overcast skies cloaked most of the range. I was
paddling over a narrow underwater ridgeline known as Pilgrim Banks.
The uneven ridge lies 120 feet below me before dropping off hundreds
of feet down on either side. Above the ridge, California sea lions played
alongside my blue kayak and a small pod of five Rissos dolphins
spouted then dove beneath the hull of my boat. As it grew darker,
migratory seabirds like sooty and black-vented shearwaters swooped
toward me before banking away at the last second. On several
occasions, pelagic ashy storm petrels flew off my bow before their
diminutive wing spans vanished in the grey capping waves.
My compass heading was set at 129 degrees south, and
after the sun set a 10-to-15 knot northwest wind picked up steam
creating dark, choppy seas. The tailwind was a welcome advantage
propelling me southward at a faster clip.
Around 8 pm, I could hear the ranger on the radio on Santa
Cruz Island communicating with the seabird biologists on Santa
Barbara Island. The night before I left, I told the ranger on Santa
Cruz that I hoped to reach Santa Barbara Island by 6 pm. From
what I could gather in the wind was that they were growing
concerned. I was late getting there and I was still a few hours away
from reaching the island.
FAR
FLUNG
TRAVEL
96
winter
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spr ing