The Wind and the Waves

Montana de Oro is a park with over 8000 acres of rugged cliffs, secluded sandy beaches, streams, canyons, coastal plains, and hills. “Mountain of Gold” is the English translation for this naturalist and backpacker heaven

The name came from Irene McAlister a former property owner who fancied finding black gold in the hills. Her ranch and prospective oil field went bankrupt in the 60’s and the state purchased the lands. But even the State Parks offer the flower explanation for the name, officially stating that “Mountain of Gold comes from the golden wildflowers that bloom in spring.”

Hiking is probably the most popular activity at the park and there are numerous trails to try. One of the easiest is the Bluffs Trail. Here there are great views of the park’s eroded marine terraces and its offshore sea stack, Grotto Rock. The flat trail winds along the top of Montana de Oro’s shale and sediment bluffs that are constantly being formed and reformed by the pounding ocean.

At low tide Corallina Cove has tidepools with ochre sea stars, urchins, anemones, and sea snails. Harbor seals lounge on the rocks and sea otters bob around in the surf.

Valencia Peak is the tallest spot in the park. It is two miles to the top of the peak at an elevation of 1,347 feet. On a clear day the view extends from Point Sal in the South to Piedras Blancas in the north.

Other trails are the Coon Creek that follows the creek and has coastal sage scrub alongside, with oak and pine woodlands on the steep side slopes. Another popular walk is to Hazard Reef where through coastal scrub and sand dunes to the beach.

At Spooner’s Cove, located right across from the Visitor Center, enjoy the ocean and watch as waves surge through the colorful rock outcroppings. Here you can practice photographing the waves trying both stop action and motion. Enjoy!

The Problem with Plastic

When I first came to California I took a job doing public relations for the plastics industry. Plastic was touted as the most significant invention of the modern era. It literally changed our lives, replacing glass, paper, fabric, and metal in many cases. Take a look around your house and see how much plastic is there.

While plastic has in many cases made our lives easier, it has turned out to be a death sentence for many species of wildlife. That fact came home to me recently while working on a project about plastic trash. I needed to find, or take, photos of birds and mammals affected by plastic and trash in our waterways. I am happy to say that this turned out to be a very difficult assignment, at least in the Morro Bay, California area.

Searching the internet I turned up those awful photos of the albatross that had died and decomposed showing the bits and pieces of plastic that they had ingested. In some of the shots you can see whole cigarette lighters were in their stomachs. Where on earth could they have gotten them and why did they eat them?

Maybe you’ve heard of it. The great North Pacific Gyre. It’s located out in the middle of the northern Pacific Ocean and it is about the size of the state of Texas and growing every day. It is an enormous revolving mass of trash. A gyre is a swirl, an eddy, a spin, a whirlpool that revolves around and around in the same spot. Where does all this trash, most of it plastic, come from? US!

Every item washed down the drains, down the rivers and creeks, or thrown upon the beaches, or accumulating in our landfills inevitably travels out to sea, and with the currents, ends up in this whirlpool of garbage.

Now we recycle plastic objects all the time, or at least I hope we do. But some types of plastic are not recyclable, get thrown in the trash, and either never biodegrade, or take so long to decompose that they might as well be considered indestructible. This is the problem with plastic.

You’ve all seen pictures of sea lions with some kind of line wrapped around their necks. Most of the time that line is plastic fishing line. If it is not removed it will eventually cut into the flesh of the animal causing infection that can kill. Cast away pieces of fishing gear are a problem in our waterways.

While taking a group of participants at the Morro Bay Winter Bird Festival on a cruise of the bay this fact became all too evident when we turned our binoculars on a double-crested cormorant perched on a floating dock. Look carefully at the photo at the top of this article. It is of that cormorant. You will see protruding from its left wing some whitish line entangled around the bird’s wing. It’s fishing line. I asked the captain of our vessel if he sees a lot of problems with plastic in the bay and he said only birds with hooks and fishing line attached. He sees that all the time.

Fishing line isn’t the only plastic problem here. Those plastic six-pack holders also end up encircling birds’ necks. And now we’ve heard that the styrene food containers that you get at restaurants for your leftovers or at the take-out food establishments are really a menace. Styrene eventually breaks up into little tiny bits of plastic that look just like fish food. I think you can see where this is going. Even plankton, the most minute of organisms, ingest plastic. Plankton is the base of the food chain in the ocean and is the one food that feeds a majority of sea creatures from the smallest fish on up to the largest whale. Imagine what these bits of plastic are doing to all these creatures.

This is a global problem. The garbage in the North Pacific Gyre will never go away. It only grows larger. And there are four more gyres in other sections of the Pacific. There are 11 other gyres spread in oceans around the world. All full of man’s garbage.

We refer to our planet as the water world. Will we one day be better known as the trash world. It is beyond reversing the problem that already exists, but it certainly is not beyond keeping it from growing. Each individual must take the responsibility for stopping this problem. What can you do? Here are just a few suggestions. Try to think of more.

Ask the restaurants you frequent to switch to biodegradable take-out containers.
Stop using plastic grocery bags.
Make sure your fishing gear stays out of the water.
And recycle, recycle, recycle!
We do not have to become a garbage planet.

Here's another photo showing just one of the waterfront problems with plastic and garbage. This industrious gull worked hard to capture this plastic bag full of our trash!







And then there was this pelican dumpster diving . . .

Reflections

Good riddance to 2009! Sure there were some good things during the year but on the whole it was a really punk 12 months and not just for me, but for tons of folks who lost their jobs, lost their homes, and in some ways lost their faith.

2009 found me to be truly ranked among the poor for the first time in my life. Were it not for friends who literally floated funds to me, I expect I could be bedding down with Gordo in my PT Cruiser by now. So the ending of this miserable decade got me to reflecting, as many of us do at this time of year, of the Christmases past.

Working back I tried to remember Christmases and suddenly I realized that although I recall Christmas 2008, I cannot drag up any pictures of what Christmas 2007 was like. Now at that time I was in the full throttle of chemotherapy for breast cancer so perhaps the memory lapse is not unusual. Still, I pondered, not being able to bring up any visions of that year's Christmas was troubling. What else have I forgotten?

They say that it's not uncommon for chemo to affect memory. But I don't think I can blame my lapse on lethal chemistry. For the most part, except for doing what I can to help others going through that horror, I consciously try to forget that entire hellish year. In so doing I realized that I have done an injustice to many people who were there for me while battling cancer and now at my year-end reflections it is time to set things straight.

Thank you to everyone who helped with encouraging words, and to those who cooked, washed, cleaned, and fed the cat while I lay about in misery. Certainly thank you to those who put money in my account so I could pay my bills. And on that note I have to talk about some individuals who went above and beyond to raise money for me.

When I was first diagnosed, I wasn't so much worried that I would die, but I worried that I would be homeless because I was unable to work and had no recourse to funds from state disability since I was self employed. This fact is what drove me to swallow my pride and do something that is alien to me, ask for help.

I didn't have to say much to my good friend Michael Williams who immediately organized a fundraising barbecue at his place of business. Friends, staff from San Luis Sports Therapy, and the Morro Bay Rotary all attended and pitched in.

I really swallowed my pride a bit later on when I asked my special friend Steve See if he could stage a benefit concert for me. Steve is our local music promoter extraordinaire. I knew if anyone could manage to bring in the dollars, it was Steve, and I knew also that he wouldn't think to say no, because that's the kind of guy he is.

Steve is a cancer survivor himself so he knows the fear associated with that kind of diagnosis. And as I recalled the event he put on for me at the San Luis Obispo Odd Fellows Hall, I realized that it had taken place just after the holiday season of 2007. I remember everything about that night.

Steve had asked Western singer/songwriter Dave Stamey to perform for the benefit. Dave is also a friend of mine ever since I first met him to interview him for an article I wrote for San Luis Obispo Magazine. When I found out Dave had volunteered to perform for free so that all the money for the concert would go to me, I was overwhelmed. That night the people who follow the performances of Dave Stamey came out for the concert and Steve managed to raise enough money for me to live on for the next year.

Am I grateful? There are no words to express it. I sing out to my heroes, the unsung folks who helped put on the concert, ran the silent auction, and all those people I don't know who came and contributed. But most of all to Michael, Dave, and Steve.

Where does this bring me now? Well, I'm less afraid to ask for help if I need it. But I worry about those who are suffering and are afraid and are paralyzed, not knowing where to turn. But I know there are many in this community who would help, if they asked.

2010 has GOT to be better! Oh yes, we say that every year, but really, how much lower could we go? I think 2010 is the year for us to pull together and truly help our neighbor. Be aware of the invisible poor. Those people who appear on the surface to be okay, but who may be dealing with hunger, can't pay their bills, or are facing the loss of their homes. Take a good look around. There is someone YOU KNOW who needs your help, but isn't letting on. Start asking your neighbors and friends how they are doing. You may be surprised as to what you will find out. Help make 2010 a truly happy NEW year!

Gordo's Marvelous New Year's Adventure

New Year's Eve is nothing special at our house. We eat a nice dinner; mine was roast beef, macaroni and cheese and peas, and Gordo and Thomas had salmon pate. Then it's lounging on the sofa, watching the idiots in Times Square, suffering through the awful entertainment, and watching the ball go down while holding a quarter in our hand. The idea is that this is to assure that you will have money throughout the coming year. Well, truth be told I held a dollar bill. I figured a dollar might work better than a quarter. At 12:03 it's off to bed, me in my room and Thomas on the sofa and Gordo on the top of the love seat. Ah bliss! The New Year! It's got to be better than any of those awful "ohs" – 00 to 09.

At 4:45 A.M. Thomas and Gordo started their New Year's celebration. I couldn't help but notice since they played it out on either side of me on the bed. I arose and trotted to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and took out the remains of the salmon pate and plopped a portion in each of their bowls. They inhaled it in two minutes while I took a bathroom break.

Now Thomas is not my cat. He just likes to eat and sleep here. He also goes outside while Gordo is strictly an indoor kitty. Gordo is fine with that. He's never shown any interest in going out nor has he ever tried. So it was more than a shock to feel him whiz by my legs as I let Thomas out the back door.

I yelled, "No Gordo!" as I followed him down the back steps and up the back path. Now mind you, I was in my nightie. No robe. It was 5 A.M. and dark and I didn't have my glasses on. Thank goodness I had slippers on or I would have been hopping over the pebbles in my bare feet.

I kept calling, "Gordo, come here Gordo," as he kept moving on, stopping to sniff at all the other kitty calling cards on the bushes. Each time he did that I lunged for him hoping to grab him. But Gordo weighs close to 18 pounds and it's just not that easy for me to snag him, lift him up, and keep hold of him. And remember, I was in my scant nightie, and it was cold.

It occurred to me that someone in the houses nearby might hear me but I had to keep calling, "Gordo, Gordo." I figured there was a good chance that the police might arrive to find out what the crazy lady is doing running around the neighborhood in the wee hours of the morning in her nightie.

Without my glasses I could barely see Gordo, but thankfully there was a full moon shining, lighting up the surroundings. By now Thomas was egging Gordo on and as I trotted after him, Gordo took a turn to the left and started running down the driveway of the house next door. "Oh no," I cried, and ran after him with Thomas on my heels

"Gordo, come here Gordo," I called and called hoping against hope that he wouldn't find the holes in the back fence and go through them into the yard beyond where I couldn't follow. But Gordo is not outdoor savvy so the fence just appeared as a barrier to him. He turned left again and began to dash back up the driveway closer to the neighbors' house. Once again he stopped to sniff the calling cards on the flowers. I grabbed hard, but he pulled away from me and now Thomas joined him and side by side they ran, jumping and leaping, into the neighbors' front yard heading for the low wall. If they scaled that it would bring them into the yard of the next house down the street without me being close behind. Then who knows where they would head.

What would happen to Gordo if he ventured too far and couldn't find his way back? He has a microchip in him, but no collar and no tag. Would anyone finding him be smart enough to turn him in to the Shelter where the chip would be discovered? All these thoughts were racing through my mind.

So I ran fast to get between the cats and the wall to divert them. They took off back towards the street and up by my yard. Almost out of breath now, still calling, "Gordo, Gordo," I sprinted behind them. It looked like he and Thomas were going to continue their mad moonlit race up the street so fast that I wouldn't be able to keep up. Just as I thought all was lost, I saw Thomas running up the street, and he was alone. Where was Gordo?

He had abruptly veered off, turned right and scooted down my back path, up the stairs, and back into the house. Hooray! Thank God I had left the back door ajar! I raced down the path and into the house and slammed the door shut. "Good boy, Gordo!" I cried, although I would have liked to kill him! He just stared at me with a look that said, "What's the big deal, how about a bowl?"

Well, Happy New Year after all. But now Gordo knows the outside and how do I keep him down on the farm after he's seen Paree!!

Gee, if this was the start of MY new year, what will the rest of it hold for me?

Days At Sea Part 2

(Because Blogger doesn't let me move postings around, this second article is showing up first. If you haven't read Days At Sea Part 1, scroll down and do that first.)

Wednesday and we are all day on the ocean waters without going ashore. I sleep in because lying prone I am not dizzy and when sleeping I can't tell if the ship is moving or not. This is my cure for Malaise del Mar and seemed better than taking pills – but I took those too!

So aside from sleeping, what is there to do while trapped on board sailing? Well, on this ship you can gamble. No thank you. You can play bingo. No thank you. Shop. Too expensive. Go to the Spa. Really too expensive. Attend the Battle of the Sexes Game Show. Good grief. Oh yes, and drink. Are you serious? While rolling and pitching? There are special events like the guy hawking diamonds and emeralds in the Grand Atrium who got on at the last port and gets off at the next. Or you can listen to the intense little fellow hawking the benefits of acupuncture in the Pearl Martini Lounge or learn about anti-aging solutions in the "Look Younger in Just Minutes" presentation in the Gatsby's Lounge or better yet, make a fool of yourself and do Karaoke. Oh, God help me!

Our group had two nice lectures by Jim Covel from the Monterey Aquarium, "Life on the Edge" in the morning and "Our Oceans" in the afternoon and that night I did another digital photography workshop. In between I read the real life adventures of some fool who took a job on a cruise ship. Why would anyone who isn't trying to escape from a communist nation do that?

We did enjoy lunch and dinner as usual but not with the captain. Usually on cruise ships there is a dinner with the captain. Not on the Norwegian Star. If you wanted to dine with the captain you had to go below into the hold and eat with the crew. I don't know, maybe the captain was shy. But the absence of the captain's dinner did irk some members of our group. They did finally assuage their desire for some kind of audience with the guy driving the ship by signing up to have a formal picture taken with the captain. I'll bet he just loved that!

Day four and before sunrise we slide under the Golden Gate Bridge in the fog entering into San Francisco Bay. I peek out the messy porthole window to film us passing under some bridge in the misty dark that turns out to be the Oakland Bay Bridge and we dock next to it. Then right after breakfast we are on our bus and off to Marin County for a tour of the Marine Mammal Center.

The Center is the ultimate ending-up place for critters that need rehabilitation due to illness or injury. This year, like so many years past, there are many sick California sea lions suffering from domoic acid poisoning. The Center has nice new facilities for their patients and a wonderful staff and volunteers who care for the ailing sea mammals. We get to watch as the volunteers and the vets do a first time check-up on a new sea lion patient.

This facility has come a long way since my last visit of about six years ago when the pens were a bit primitive and there were no labs or kitchens as there are now. At that time the staff did necropsies on dead marine mammals in the back of a shed. It was really great to see how they have advanced and how this certainly contributes to giving better care to these unfortunate animals.

Our next stop was back in the city at Golden Gate Park for our afternoon the California Academy of Sciences. Now, I could spend days in this place and know that surely a return visit will have to happen. The museum has a planetarium, a rainforest, a two and one-half acre rooftop covered in native grasses and plants, and many interactive exhibits. They have a Philippine coral reef, an African Hall with live penguins, a swamp, Islands of Evolution, an aquarium with 38,000 animals, and more.

We knew we had to see the planetarium and take a ride to the edge of the universe, and then it was on to the Rainforest, a four story exhibit that is seen by traversing the walkway starting in the treetops of Costa Rica and wending down to the flooded Amazon floor. On the way there are tropical plants, free-flying equatorial birds and butterflies, chameleons from Madagascar, a bat cave from Borneo, and on the bottom an underwater tunnel where you gaze up at piranha and catfish. This was a photographic heaven and I could have spent hours taking pictures of the vibrantly colored butterflies and birds. But I had to see it all, so next it was up to the rooftop.

Here there are seven grass and flower covered hummocks with weird looking porthole windows that let light into the area below. This living roof provides insulation, absorbs rainwater preventing runoff, and is a habitat for area birds, butterflies and insects. It qualifies the museum as a truly green building.

Our afternoon ended too soon and we were due back on board ship to sail once again. That night we learned more about our night sky from a presentation by Rouvaishyana, our state park ranger, entitled "International Year of Astronomy 2009." After that we all felt like going up on the top deck to look at stars and w probably would have if we weren't too pooped and if it hadn't been overcast.

Our next day was another day at sea with two lectures by Jim called "Oceans of Inspiration" and "Our California Heritage." It was that or attend the towel animal folding demonstration or buy Colombian emeralds at 50% off. Oh no!

We did have a truly fun time way up top above the bridge looking for whales before going in for an hour long private reception in the Star Bar where we found out that some state park rangers could moonlight as piano bar entertainers. After munching hors d'ouevres and downing Caribbean drinks, we still had room for a last dinner in the dining room and then another night sleeping on the rolling ocean.

I will spare you all the agony of our last day's departure at the port of Los Angeles except to say that if the port does not have elevator facilities working then they shouldn't allow people off ships dragging their stuffed 75 pound luggage behind them. I don't know. Others managed not to kill themselves bumping their suitcases down two flight of stairs or perching precariously with them on a swift moving escalator, but I knew better than to even try that. And it didn't matter. I could have waited and gotten off later when the elevator was running because the bus we were supposed to get promptly at 9 AM didn't go to the Los Angeles port. It was waiting for us at the Queen Mary in Long Beach. Didn't someone tell the bus driver, the Queen Mary no longer sails. It's a hotel.

Did I enjoy the trip? Absolutely! Would I do it again? Not a chance.














Our Stateroom on the 4th Deck just above Crew Quarters







Norwegian Star Pool Deck



Towel Animal











Marine Mammal Center - Treating a sea lion









Marine Mammal Center Treatment Board








Marine Mammal Center Scientists at work











Violaceous euphonia - tropical bird in Rainforest exhibit at California Academy of Science








Tropical Butterflies at California Academy of Science

Days At Sea

Go on a cruise? Paid for by someone else? Well, SURE! That's what I said when I was offered a free trip on the Natural History Association's nature cruise aboard the Norwegian Star. Eight days traveling from Vancouver, B.C. to Los Angeles on this ship line's repositioning cruise. Stops were planned at Victoria, B.C., Astoria, Oregon, and San Francisco where in each location our group would tour some interesting nature spots as well as natural history museums. Days at sea would offer not just leisure, but lectures by professional environmental people, and I would do two digital photography workshops.

This was my first time at sea. Probably it will be my last time too. Now, don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the trip and especially the company I traveled with. But I am just not a sailor. Maybe it's just my middle ear problem or maybe it's my inexact sense of balance, but the continual bobbing motion of even as large a vessel as the Norwegian Star knocked me off my pins. Oh, I didn't get sick. Naturally I took my little seasick pills, even though I don't really think I needed them. I just never could get my sea legs. And I found it frustrating to try and take photos with the floor rising and falling, rising and falling. Still, I managed

to take over 300 pictures.

Our first day began with a bus trip from Morro Bay to the San Francisco Airport. This in itself was an adventure since we had to board the bus at 5 A.M. in the pitch dark of night, and help guide the bus driver, who only spoke Spanish, out of the State Park without having him kill the numerous mule deer that mingle on lower state park road in the we hours. Except for the fact that we had no rest stop break, the rest of that ride was uneventful and most of us slept our way north.

We went through the usual harangue getting through security and customs to board our Air Canada flight to Vancouver. The plane was very comfortable and the flight smooth. Finding our bus that would take us to our hotel was another challenge, but finally we arrived at the Delta Vancouver Airport Hotel in Richmond.

Not having had much of a chance for food all day, my roommate and I decided on an early dinner at the hotel's restaurant, The Elephant Pub, where we found the food and ambiance to be exceptionally good. I skipped a reception for our group to join up with a friend of mine who lives in Point Roberts, Washington, just across the border. Point Roberts is located right on the Puget Sound and is truly a picturesque spot set amidst a tall northern pine and fir forest.

We stopped at a store on the Canadian side for me to buy some tapes for my video camera and I discovered that American currency isn't worth much. The exchange rate was perfectly even. I remember times when traveling to Canada meant getting more for my money, but not anymore.

Our first day of touring brought us to Stanley Park, the largest park in Canada, and the Vancouver Aquarium. While this place won't rival our Monterey Aquarium, it outdid itself with its dolphins and beluga whales. We also enjoyed our experience in their theater presentation with the new 4th dimension that included tingling sensations on our legs and light little bursts of water splashing us that matched the ocean spray in the film. It was fun.

The rest of the large park located at the water's edge has trails through tall trees, playing fields, a display of brightly painted totem poles, and more.We learned that the Vancouver area has the largest Chinese population in North America beating out San Francisco. Many Chinese left Hong Kong when the communists took over and they brought their money with them, buying large houses selling for upwards of half a million dollars, with cash.

We drove through Chinatown in downtown Vancouver, but our bus driver told us that the majority of Chinese people live in the adjacent town of Richmond.

Soon it was time to board our ship. By some clever twist of fate, we were the last group to arrive at the dock and had virtually no need to wait in any long lines. We just made a mad dash up the runway and went immediately to our staterooms to grab our life jackets and race back to deck seven for lifeboat drill, always a sobering activity.

After unpacking we made our way to deck 12, the open deck where the pool is located, for the Sail Away Party and Barbecue. Tall bon voyage drinks were pressed into our hands and we filled up on munchies as the ship left port.

The Norwegian Star offers freestyle cruising. What this means is you can do whatever you want, there is no schedule. Well, in actuality that wasn't exactly true because there was a schedule of daily activities, which involved various musical events, raffles, games, liquor tasting, gambling, and more. Dining was about the only thing that was really freestyle since there was no assigned seating in either of the dining rooms and there was always the option of eating in the Market Café that served food cafeteria style. This suited pretty much everyone and the food was good no matter what dining area was chosen.

Most of the activities that the ship offered involved spending extra money or were so inane they didn't interest us. So it was nice that we had our own meeting room on the 12th deck to enjoy the nature lectures that were planned.

We cruised all night through calm waters to Victoria and after breakfast disembarked to find our transportation to the Royal British Columbia Museum where a special exhibit called Treasures featured special items from the British Museum. The Treasures spanned from 12,000 BC to 2006 AD from all areas in the world.

The rest of the museum featured their special natural history displays that told the stories of the animals and humans inhabiting British Columbia throughout history.

The museum was great but I hadn't been in Victoria in over 20 years and wanted to at least walk the waterfront and photograph the scenes including the Capitol, the waterfront, and the famous Empress Hotel before we had to board our bus.

Then we enjoyed a drive to the other side of the island where we hiked in lovely Goldstream Provincial Park. I loved walking beside the flowing stream and viewing the forest. I think I was treating a case of tree withdrawal by walking slowly and wallowing in the grandeur of leaves and limbs with the dappled light shining through them.

We were back on the ship at 4:30 PM, enjoyed our dinner and then we started to sail. Now we were leaving the protected inner waters of Puget Sound and went rounding the tip of the Olympic Peninsula into the open ocean. Oh my! This was not the time to be up on the 12th deck! I was determined to get photos as we sailed around the bend, but finally had to give up and get below where the heaving and ho-ing was a lot less. Everyone else enjoyed an evening nature lecture which was held in our special meeting room on the 12 deck. I decided not to go and took meclazine and stayed below in our cabin on the 4th deck.

The next day dawned and if I wanted to eat I had to go above. I wobbled and weaved my way to the Market Café where I enjoyed having breakfast with an older couple from Toronto, Canada whose final destination would be Las Vegas. It was my guess that they enjoyed the casino onboard. We had a lengthy discussion about health care reform and how much they appreciated their system in Canada.

The group was heading off the ship in Astoria to tour the Lewis and Clark Historical Park and Fort Clatsop. I decided to skip this tour and stay on board in port. But first all of us had to go through US Customs. What a trial, standing in line waiting and waiting to finally reach a grim-faced official who looked over our passports for a few seconds and then stamped the official seal on a ticket to use when leaving the ship. This process took hours and hours before all 2000+ people got through the line.

I wasn't upset about skipping the tour. My legs were tired from the previous day's hiking and from trying to keep my balance while we sailed. My day wasn't dull though as I got to film the crew's lifeboat drill where they actually launched all the lifeboats on one side of the ship. Fascinating!

I sat on a lounge chair on deck seven and watched and filmed ships and pilot boats coming and going, sailing under the long Astoria-Megler Bridge. The Columbia River mouth, which is where the port is located, is miles wide, not like the dinky rivers and streams in Southern California. This river, despite the fact that it has some awesome dams on it (one of them being the Grand Coulee) manages to have quite a flow of water streaming out into the Pacific. Crossing the Columbia Bar has always been hazardous and we certainly felt the pitch and roll on our way into port, so I knew it was going to be a challenge to once again perch myself against the railing on the 12th deck to photograph our departure later that afternoon. Still it was a lovely relaxing day for me.

Sail we did promptly at 5 PM with our own pilot boat speeding up to us and directing our way. We heaved and weaved, at least I did. But I got some wonderful photos of all the activity and of Cape Disappointment Lighthouse across the mouth of the river in Washington. Then it was down below for me and room service dinner in the cabin and an evening of reading "Permanent Passenger," a book about life working on a cruise ship.

What's next in our adventure? Stay tuned for "Days at Sea" Part 2!

A Cluck By Any Other Name

One of my duties for the Morro Bay Winter Bird Festival is to go along on field trips to photograph birdwatchers and the birds they are watching. A couple of the outings went to working vineyards where we sipped wine and kept our eyes searching for birds.

Up at Halter Ranch in Adelaida we got to bird the area near the old Mac Gillivray Victorian house and the winery tasting room. We had our binoculars handy to catch sight of acorn woodpeckers in the oaks, goldfinches and juncos flitting around, and white-breasted nuthatches strolling upside down on a tree limb. So it was a great spot for me to get lots of photos that really fit for my bird festival portfolio.

On our walk up through the area where the grape vines grow, we encountered a species relative to our wild friends. I noticed them first at the side of the dirt road near one of the winery sheds. They stood there trying to decide, should they cross the road or not? It's a big decision for a bird that has existed for decades with the unanswered question, why does the chicken cross the road? I can tell you. To get to the vineyard of course!

After hesitating a few minutes they made the dash right in front of me, scattering pell-mell into the grassy lanes between the vines, pecking away as they went. I raised my camera and began shooting. Why not? They are birds, after all, and this was a bird festival.

Raising chickens is fun, relatively easy, and gives you the dividend of fresh eggs. Not all communities allow livestock raising, but in many of our county areas, keeping a small flock of chickens is okay.

So how do you start? You can begin with day old chicks and have the hens ready in 22 weeks to begin laying. This method requires an outlay for feed with no substantial return until you start getting eggs. Another method is to purchase ready-to-lay pullets or get mature hens that are already laying.

You'll have to build a chicken coop for their protection at night and in bad weather. The coop will contain the nests in which the hens will lay and most coops also have feeding stations in them. Many people are reverting to free-range birds combined with supplemental feeding. But chickens will still need a place of refuge even if they are allowed to roam your property.

A chicken's bones, like all birds, are hollow and they are connected to the respiratory system. Chickens cannot sweat and have to control their body temperatures in other ways. Evaporation of water from the respiratory tract is one way they do this and a lot of heat loss occurs from the head.

A chicken's skin is fairly thin and can vary in color depending on their diet. Feathers, of course, keep the birds warm and are essential for flight. They molt and renew their feathers yearly.

It's the digestive system that is interesting and it starts with the beak and the mouth where food then passes to the esophagus and into the crop. The crop acts as a temporary storage department. Food then moves along to the stomach and meets up with the gizzard, an organ that is capable of grinding and crushing food. The gizzard is assisted in this job with gravel and grit that the chickens eat while foraging. It's the gizzard that enables the chicken to adequately digest whole grains.

Chickens are pretty well known for being somewhat dim witted and this is due to the fact that they have a rather small cerebral cortex, the part of the brain that signifies intelligence. Hens may not be too smart but they do have a special social structure called the pecking order. In this system the top bird can peck any other bird, but lower birds can only peck birds that are below them. The poor lowest bird can be pecked by everyone and cannot peck back! Somehow this system keeps order in the chicken coop.

As a hen matures, so does her reproductive system. Hormones stimulate the development of the ovary (only one, by the way) and it matures to produce everything needed for that all too important element, the egg. Yolks are produced first followed by albumen (egg white) that is deposited around the yolk. An outer and inner membrane forms and eventually the process is completed by the formation of the shell. The whole process takes about 27 hours.

Some chickens lay white eggs; some chickens lay brown eggs. In South America the Araucana chicken lays blue eggs. No matter the color, egg laying activity will take place without the aid or presence of a rooster. Roosters are actually a deterrent to good egg production as their presence encourages the hens to get broody.

So what makes a hen get busy laying if it's not the rooster? The answer is light. When pullets reach sexual maturity the increasing length of day releases the factors that initiate egg laying. In some commercial hen houses, the lights are turned on all the time to keep production going.

Small farms and hobby farmers are returning to raising many historic breeds that have all but disappeared from commercial production. Javas, Delawares, Buckeyes, Hollands, Chanticlers, are just some of these breeds now being raised and shown at county fairs across the country. Some of these breeds are dual purpose birds supplying both eggs and meat.

There is a lot more to know about raising chickens and information is available from your county extension office and the American Poultry Association, www.amerpoultryassn.com; My Pet Chicken Guide to Chicken Care, www.mypetchicken.com, or from books such as Raising Your Own Livestock by Claudia