Channel Islands

We’ll always remember the three happy weeks we spent between Santa Barbara and the Channel Islands as The Mariners Post Season. We’re fair weather baseball fans at best, but watched every game of the 2025 ALDS and ALCS from loud sports bars, quiet one-boat anchorages and, at least once, from the middle of Santa Barbara Channel. Based on the enthusiasm of Seattleites on boats, we could only imagine the energy at home.

The locals, meanwhile, confirmed what we suspected: we had lucked into an unusually long period of beautiful weather in the islands. Spending calm, sunny days in these wild places with the wonderful company of a couple of buddy boats felt like a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Even a burst water maker hose and soaked mattresses couldn’t bring us down.

We really, really loved the Channel Islands. So much so, that we started to leave, changed our minds, and turned back a couple of times — hence our Etch-a-Sketch course.

This is just some of what kept us coming back:

One of the endemic species that exists only in the Channel Islands is the house cat-sized island fox. They’re completely unbothered by humans with cameras when fig trees are in season. We felt sure we could fit one into a backpack, but less sure that Pelle would welcome a new crew member.

Snorkeling in a kelp forest is awesome! The kelp here grows 10 to 100 feet tall and sways with the surging waves. We saw rays and bright orange garibaldi, but mainly just enjoyed swimming around in our new snorkel gear.

At several anchorages, we heard strange crackling sounds underwater, and even through the hull of the boat, as if the water had been filled with Rice Krispies. After some Googling, we learned that it was little pistol shrimp whose snapping claws create cavitation bubbles that collapse and send out shockwaves louder than gunshots.

We anchored by ourselves at Coches Prietos, a tiny cove on the south side of Santa Cruz Island. According to Captain Dan, the Channel Islands cruising expert, this spot can hold up to seven boats in the summer months — we couldn’t imagine how! But we did run across some fisherman who sold us our first lobster right out of the pot.

We spent a couple of days in Pelican Bay where, in 1910, a sea captain built a camp large enough to accommodate silent film crews and, later during Prohibition, an illicit distillery. We put the Merlin bird ID app to good use here. Aside from the requisite pelicans, the rock walls echoed with the distinctive calls of oystercatchers. Finding himself in a beautiful place, Steve got to work servicing all the winches. When we pulled up our anchor chain, it was absolutely covered with orange spiny brittle stars.

We were able to stretch our legs in some beautiful places — hiking on National Parks Service trails when we could and bushwhacking in the trail-less places. We saw tons of fox and bird skeletons, but thankfully only one desiccated eel head.

Painted Cave on the north side of Santa Cruz Island is the twelfth largest sea cave in the world, a fact that reminded me a little of the World’s Largest Burl in Port McNeill, BC. But this cave is so much more impressive than the burl! There’s no anchorage nearby, so the best way to visit is to gather friends onto one boat, leave half the crew idling in the boat outside the cave, and send the rest in a dinghy to the cave with a strong flashlight. The entrance is 130 feet tall, but the ceiling quickly lowers — and feels dangerously low if you happen to be inside on a calm day when a few rogue waves surge into the cave, ricochet loudly off the cave walls, and cause your children to yell, “DAD! Stop taking a video and focus!”

Often at the moment we felt furthest from civilization, we were reminded that we were actually less than 85mi from LAX. Passing from Santa Rosa to Santa Cruz Islands, we heard a shocking bang and quickly checked to make sure we hadn’t hit something. Later, our anchorage neighbors confirmed that it was a SpaceX launch from nearby Vandenberg Air Force Base.

Another day, we were playing on a beach that glittered with abalone shell fragments left by Chumash people thousands of years before, when two menacing-looking grey military boats pulled into the cove and circled slowly before tearing off to the east. We wondered if it was coincidental that this was the same day the Vice President and Secretary of Defense were speaking to the Marine Corps at Camp Pendleton.

But really, the true highlight, was the beach at Forney Cove — the place where we finally slowed down the pace, realized we had nowhere to be, and just hung out. The kids spent hours upon hours getting absolutely hammered by waves. Steve and I sat in CrazyCreeks and read about Richard Henry Dana and Bernard Moitissier. We gathered shells and accidentally left behind a pair of crocs which we rediscovered a week later, completely untouched. We had happy hours with anchorage buddies who shared ginger beers and homemade baguettes. We felt like we were doing exactly what we set out to do — not much really, in a very pretty place.