When I set foot onto Anacapa Island, I was struck by intriguing silence. I may have disembarked with 20 others, but standing upon the towering sea cliffs put me into context:
I was on a half a mile wide, 5 mile long, volcanic island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Civilization is an hour boat ride away, and the boat is currently nowhere to be found.
Such isolation is an incredibly peaceful experience…unless you’ve been stranded there for 18 years.
The night before my visit to Anacapa, I was talking with a friend about our favorite childhood books. That’s when we started discussing Island of the Blue Dolphins — a Californian classic which holds some of my favorite childhood memories. In short, Island of the Blue Dolphins tells the fictional story of a young Native American girl named Karana who lived on an island off the coast of California. After her tribe flees the island because of a violent dispute with Russian fur traders, she’s accidentally left behind and stranded on the island.
Since reading the book, I had never considered that it could be based on true events (maybe that connection was explained to me, but it was totally lost on me as a 4th grader). Regardless, it was this conversation with my friend that sparked this long-awaited connection: Could I be inadvertently going to the same islands as Karana?
After doing a brief search, not only was Karana stranded on one of the Channel Islands, so was her true-to-life counterpart: the Lone Woman of San Nicholas Island, or Juana Maria.
(Left: Juana Maria of the Nicoleño tribe in California. Right: Island of the Blue Dolphins cover.)
In a similar chain of events, Juana was abandoned on San Nicholas Island for 18 years after fur traders violently attacked her tribe in the 1830s — an attack that reduced her community of 300 to just seven. A schooner, christened “Better Than Nothing”, relocated the remaining seven of her tribe. However, Juana wasn’t on that return trip.
Although Juana’s island is closed off by the US Navy today, Anacapa Island provides a compelling analogue to the isolation she endured.
Getting to Anacapa Island involves a few steps — 157 of them specifically. But before reaching those steps, your captain needs to get you lined up just right to disembark. As you queue to step ashore, the captain must align the boat with the dock as the tide continuously rushes in and out of the cove. Once you’ve been given an exit window, you're met with a 157-step staircase.
(Certainly better than the "Better Than Nothing")
At the top, you’re met with that isolation. Scanning the ocean expanse, you barely make out the California coastline existing as a hazy sliver. You wonder, now what?
(Left: Private residence — National Park operated. In Distance: Anacapa Light House.)
Turning away from the seemingly endless Pacific, you’ll notice the tiny micro-habitation behind you.
You’ll find a private residence, a lighthouse built in 1912, and a large…church? Walking closer and peering through the windows, two massive, wooden barrels fill what should be the nave. As you can imagine, there’s no freshwater to be found on the island. In the 30s, the US Coast Guard built two, 55,000-gallon water tanks. Worried about vandalism and varmints, the Coast Guard disguised the water tanks in a church-like concrete building. Its cover-up seems to have worked, mostly.
(The church-like water house, standing alone.)
(Anacapa Light House.)
While the island is 5 miles long, Anacapa is separated into three islets, each inaccessible from the other without a boat. But, this segmentation means you have a truly spectacular panorama that’s only a mile’s hike away: Inspiration Point.
While you trek your way there, you’ll tour Cathedral Cove...
(There's actually a NPS live stream of a Peregrine Falcon nest here.)
Glance over rocky bluffs and find an immense amount of pelicans and seagulls…
(Narrow coastlines packed with native wildlife.)
Spot imported iceplants that once combatted erosion…
(Imported by the US Coast Guard to anchor the eroding soil until it started crowding out native plants and destroying habitats.)
And that’s when you reach Inspiration Point.
Pelican squadrons patrolling the islets, barks from sea lions establishing their rest spots, and kelp forests breaking up the deep blues and teals of the Pacific. It’s quite a scene to take in, and perfectly named at that.
As you depart from the island aboard your return boat, you’ll do one more quick tour of the far eastern side. Of especial note is Arch Rock — the symbol of the entire Channel Islands National Park.
Then, after a mile or two, you’ll likely be escorted by a pod of enthusiastic dolphins.
It’s this striking isolation, paired with a vibrant connection to the surrounding wildlife, that makes a trip to Anacapa Island so unforgettable.