Sailing with Pygmy Mammoths: Circumnavigating San Clemente Island, part 2

Like stumbling into a secret society, just before dark we found a little "village" of lobster boats anchored in the tiny cove in the West side of the San Clemente island. Deep golden light shone on the massive cliffs.

What a dramatic setting and relief. Up to that point, I had been unsure if there would be a safe anchorage in this cove. The rocks in the chart looked dicey. Would we have to sail another 12 miles and anchor after dark in some unknown beach? Happily, we surveyed the glassy water, set the hooks, and kayaked over to the lobster guys.

"How did you find this place??" they asked incredulous. I felt proud at following my instinct. "I heard a rumor from a friend of a friend... I guess you don't see too many cruising boats here?" The lobster guys grinned, as they ate steak cooked on their outdoor grill with thick BBQ sauce.

DAY 2.

The Navy's giant wind turbines lazily spun in the ridgeline as we sailed to Pyramid Cove, on the southernmost tip of the island. The huge bay is often closed for the Navy to conduct its "live firing exercises"; but the schedule showed a welcoming green for "open". With our binoculars, we could see the odd target on the beach. Large signs on the beach made it clear that landing was prohibited.

So you can have a better idea-- allow me to describe my three crew on board.

First there is Chris, a lifeguard who is coming for the entire two months, who I described in a previous post. Chris met a few commercial fisherman guys who were dying for candy bars, and ended up swapping two snickers bars for eight lobsters. "Best deal ever!" he said, happy out of his mind.

Second is Adam Jankhe, an artist and photog living in Santa Barbara. Intentionally using a print-film camera, he captures the dysfunctional, the trite, the majestic, and weaves it into a super-realistic view of the world. Being in this setting -- a pristine environment with Navy helicopter and bombs -- provides the sort of contrast he absolutely loves. A few of his island photos can be seen on his site.

Third is Robby Seid, who is a traveler, fishes salmon in Alaska, and works in mechanical design. Every time he comes aboard Aldebaran he improves the boat -- whether it's the sunglass line, the guitar rack, or just a roll of non-skid tape. We met on the Oaxaca coast and I'm glad we stayed in touch.

The winds gusting off the land didn't upset Robby- he sprayed himself with soapy water to slide into his ultra-tight camouflage wetsuit. We free dove through the kelp beds with our hawaiian slings and caught a few surf perch for dinner.

We hunkered down inside the cabin as winds howled outside, and the anchor light of a large sailboat swayed behind us.