Catalina

Yesterday I took a day trip to Santa Catalina Island. I boarded the Catalina Flyer in Newport Beach at 9:00 in the morning. (Those who remember the Inland Empire chant "One hour to the beach . . ." will be interested to read that it took me exactly one hour to drive from Loma Linda to the boat terminal.)

The Flyer, a double-hulled ferry boat, flew along at 30 knots and covered the 22 miles between the mainland and Catalina in an hour.

It was foggy and overcast when we left Newport Harbor, but by the time we reached Avalon Bay, the fog had burned off. Avalon looked much as I remembered it from my childhood with the round Casino (built by Wm. Wrigley, Jr. in the early 20th century) and the collection of yachts moored in the bay.

The Carnival cruise ship Entrigue was anchored off shore, and I thought Avalon would be mobbed with its passengers; however, I guess the town and the many island tours absorbed them because the town didn't seem crowded at all.

I decided to take the Nautilus boat ride to see the fish in the kelp beds off the island's shore. The glass bottom boats that I remember from my youth still run, but I thought this semisubmersible vessel might get me up more close and personal with the fish.

In addition to providing a good view of underwater life, the Nautilus is a real Disneyland kind of ride, complete with simulated diving sequences.

The fish showed up on cue. Hundreds of these opals plus thousands of sardines and a sprinkling of bright orange Garabaldis, the California state fish. The Nautilus is fitted with feeding devices at each window. For six bucks, I purchased four loads of food. When I pushed the button, a shower of food shot out, setting off a true feeding frenzy. In Catalina, even the fish live off the tourist trade.

Back on land, I took two self-guided walking tours around Avalon. In an earlier blog entry, I marveled at the wealth of vegetation in southern California. Avalon—perhaps because its climate is even more temperate—seems to me to outdo even the mainland in this respect. For instance, I saw whole forests of huge jade plants, seemingly growing wild.

While the island has a fair number of cars, the favored mode of transportation seems to be the golf cart. Avalon has one gas station to serve its population of 4000 residents. According to the guide on the Nautilus, it also has 2 policemen, no jail, seven churches, and 35 bars. Readers are free to make up their own jokes about these statistics.

Avalon has a great variety of architectural styles. Much of the town is quaint and beautiful, but it certainly has its share of eyesores—properties cluttered with junk, half-built houses that have apparently been abandoned, and homes in need of maintenance and a paint job. The town could use some code enforcement. Or maybe just some codes to start with.

In 1915, a fire broke out that leveled the town. One of the few structures left standing was the yellow four-story Glenmore Plaza Hotel, built in 1892 and still in operation.

At 4:30 sharp, the Catalina Flyer cast off from Float 3 in Avalon Bay, and and hour later—after watching some sea lions playing just off Catalina and spotting a couple of whales in the channel— we arrived back at the Balboa Terminal in Newport with its cupola and flag.

It may only be an hour from Loma Linda to the beach, but it took over twice that long to drive from the beach to Loma Linda, thanks to heavy traffic on the freeways.

I don't think I'd want to live on Catalina. It's too remote, too expensive, and too limited in its amenities. But I'd go back for a day or two in a heartbeat.