The storms of the last couple of weeks have been an opportunity to make connections between ourselves and history. When it’s windy in Long Beach, it’s really windy on Cape Disappointment. When the wind carries the rain up the sides of the cape straight up your nose and it tastes like salt, we have a name for it- “good Lewis and Clark weather.” Many of us are familiar with Captain Clark’s observations in this area. Snippets from Clark’s journals, such as, “we are all wet and disagreeable” and “dismal niche” encompass the struggles that the Expedition experienced the closer they got to the ocean. There were others besides Clark who took the time and effort to write daily in their journals no matter what the weather served them.
Patrick Gass became Sergeant Gass after the death of Sergeant Floyd as the Expedition traveled through present day Iowa. Although there were multiple expedition members who kept journals, Sergeant Gass was one of the most diligent. You can call me a geek but I enjoy getting as many perspectives as I can, therefore I sometimes refer to Patrick Gass’s journals for a different take on the experiences of the Lewis and Clark Expedition. There are many similarities between the different journal entries made by the variety of authors but sometimes hearing the same thing from another mouth and mind alters your understanding. It is with that intention that I have collected excerpts from Gass’s journal below from the time the expedition was in our area.

November 7, 1805: It was this evening when Captain Clark recorded, “Great joy in camp, we are in view of the ocean.” Patrick Gass makes no mention of being able to see the ocean at this campsite; he does however calculate the width of the Columbia River as being, “5 miles broad” at the head of Gray’s Bay near present day Altoona, Washington.

November 8: “The whole of this day was wet and disagreeable; and the distance we made in a straight line, was not more than 9 miles; though the distance we coasted was above 20 miles.” Like I said earlier, sometimes quotations between different journals weren’t so unlike each other, this language is very similar to Captain Clark’s. It goes to show, at t

his point in the journey, the whole party was wet.

November 9: “We had no fresh water, except what rain we caught by putting out our vessels.” This statement is unique to Gass’s journal and I think it reveals both desperation and thirst.

November 10: “Here we scarcely had room to lie between the rocks and water; but we made shift to do it among some drift wood that had been beat up by the tide.” The expedition was forced to set up camp as best a possible, on driftwood trees, since there wasn’t and still isn’t any beach in this location.

November 11: “The morning was wet and the wind still blowing, so that we could not proceed.”

November 12: “The rain still continued, and the river remained very rough.” This is a statement that many of us should be able to relate, especially over the last couple of weeks.

November 13: “At 9 o’clock in the forenoon it became a little more calm than usual; and 3 men took a canoe, which we got from the Indians of a kind excellent for riding swells, and set out to go to the point on the sea shore, to ascertain whether there were any white people there, or if they were gone.” These guys were motivated to find any white people who they could get more supplies from or maybe even a ride home.

November 14: “The rest remained in camp; and the weather continued wet, and the most disagreeable I had ever seen.”

November 15: “Here we halted on a sand beach, formed a comfortable camp, and remained in full view of the ocean, at this time more raging than pacific.” Gass recounts finally being able to make it around the rocky slopes and points that had been keeping them from a better camp location. This is present-day Station Camp.

November 16: “We are now at the end of our voyage, which has been completely accomplished according to the intention of the expedition, the object of which was to discover a passage by the way of the Missouri and Columbia rivers to the Pacific ocean; notwithstanding the difficulties, privations and dangers, which we had to encounter, endure and surmount.” This has to be one of the most eloquent passages in any of the men’s journals. This really captures the sense of accomplishment the Corps must have been feeling at this point.

November 17: Meriwether Lewis and a couple of men had made their way to the coast as quickly as they could going on information from the Chinooks that there were traders anchored at the mouth of the Columbia River. “They had been round the bay, and seen where white people had been in the course of the summer: but they had all sailed away. “

November 18: While Captain Clark ventured Baker Bay toward Cape Disappointment and north, Patrick Gass stayed back with Lewis and probably caught his breath. He certainly was drying out as well. “The Indians still remained with us, and Capt. Lewis got a specimen of their language. Those who live about the seashore and on Rogue’s harbour creek, a large creek that comes in on the north side of the bay, call themselves the Chin-ook nation.”

November 19: “Several of the men have robes made of Brandt skins: one of them had a hat made of the bark of white cedar and bear-grass, very handsomely wrought and water-proof. One of our party purchased it for an old razor.” Gass was obviously fond of anything water-proof.

November 20: Speaking of Captain Clark and the eleven men who went to the cape and beyond Gass noted, “They found some pumice stones, which had been thrown out by the waves, of a quality superior to those on the Missouri; also a number of shells of different kinds.”

November 21: “The wind blew so violent to day, and the waves ran so high, that we could not set out on our return, which it is our intention to do as soon as the weather and water will permit. The season being so far advanced, we wish to establish our winter quarters as soon as possible.” The statement “set out on our return” to me reinforces the concept that by the time

Captain Clark returned from the sea coast they felt their mission had been met, from here on out, everything could be seen as “heading home.”

November 22: “This was a rainy and stormy morning; and we were not yet able to set out: the wind blew very hard from the south, and the river was rougher than it has been since we came here.” They were so close to leaving and yet so far. I would have liked to see the roughest river conditions…from a distance.

November 23: “One of these men had the reddest hair I ever saw, and a fair skin, much freckled.” According to footnotes in the Moulton edition of the Lewis and Clark journals this man was most likely Jack Ramsey, evidence of intimate relations between white traders and native peoples.

November 24: “As this was a fine clear day, it was thought proper to remain here in order to make some observations, which the bad weather had before rendered impossible.” Finally it was clear and calm enough to attempt crossing the river and Captain Clark kept everyone waiting so he could pinpoint the location of Station Camp.

Note Gass doesn’t say it was proper, he just mentions “it was thought proper.”
To learn more about Patrick Gass and the other members of the Lewis and Clark Expedition, come up to the interpretive center at Cape Disappointment State Park. We proudly have on display personal items of Patrick Gass, such as his hatchet head and a shaving box of his believed to have been carved by Sacagawea. The bookstores at the center, operated by the Friends of the Columbia River Gateway, sell The Journals of Patrick Gass if you want to read more of his perspectives of the journey. Don’t worry, no one will look at you like you’re a geek.

There is nothing like a large predatory and carnivorous animal to get the imagination flowing. Many of us have become accustomed to living life sitting comfortably as the highest member of the food chain. When there happens to be the presence of another large mammal in “our” territory it naturally produces thoughts of competition and defense. I’ve had to consider my own feelings about such issues with the sighting of a cougar in Cape Disappointment by a park ranger within the last two weeks. One sighting is one thing, but two partially eaten fawns that have been found lately is another.

In my short life I have determined that perception is often reality. In the case of a cougar at “our” state park my perception has changed but the reality has remained the same. After first hearing the ranger’s account of seeing the cougar cross the road in front of him I was amazed, excited, and I have to admit, I felt threatened. I didn’t feel safe walking the trails alone anymore. I felt like I was being watched when I left the interpretive center in the evenings. As I mentioned earlier, these thoughts are natural but that doesn’t necessarily make them justifiable. Instead of fear, there is another way to look at the presence of a cougar at the cape.

Cougars have large territories, are mostly nocturnal and solitary animals. According to Pacific Coast Mammals, Ron Russo describes their habitat as, “generally wilderness but may hunt in rural hills.” Taking this into consideration, Cape Disappointment certainly has “rural hills” and certain areas of the park have characteristics of “wilderness” as well. The park, 1,800 acres in size, has large sections of it without any roads or trails through it. These areas are thickly brushed and often wet for most of the year. With this kind of habitat, especially considering the large deer population in the park, you can easily understand why a cougar would choose to live there. We should be proud that we have such an intact ecosystem at the cape that a cougar would want to live there.

Aldo Leopold, says early in his most famous book, A Sand County Almanac, “There are some who can live without wild things and some who cannot.” This view is partially true; some of us may think that we can live without wild animals, but in reality we probably wouldn’t live for too long. As we learn more about ecology and its principles, it becomes evident that everything is connected. This is not voodoo or blasphemy, it is a fact of life that we are all part of the web of life. It just so happens that the we are looking eye to eye with the cougar on top of the food chain. Fortunately, there is room for all of us.

According to the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife’s website “Living with Wildlife in Washington” close encounters with cougars are “extremely rare.” In the last century “around 20 fatalities and 100 non-fatal attacks have been reported.” The WDFW has some good advice for those of us who recreate in cougar habitat and want to avoid seeing one: hike in small groups, keep small kids close to the group, don’t approach dead deer or elk, and keep a clean camp. If you happen to see a cougar in the wild, the rule is to stop, stand tall, and don’t run. Cougars will rarely act aggressively if they perceive you as a potential threat. See the WDFW’s website for more particulars: http://wdfw.wa.gov/wlm/game/cougar/cougar.

This article was originally published just after the October 14, 2006 celebration of Cape Disappointment Lighthouse’ 150th Birthday

Roben Estes and Donella Lucero, members of the interpretive staff at Cape Disappointment State Park polished the First-Order Fresnel lens on display at the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center in preparation for the 150th anniversary of the Cape Disappointment Lighthouse last Sunday.

In commemoration of the Cape Disappointment Lighthouse’s 150th anniversary, I would like to share with you some of the reports from the U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey. Interestingly enough, the Coast Survey found its inception under the orders of President Thomas Jefferson in 1807. It took over four decades before coastal surveys, or maps, were made for the mouth of the Columbia River. It was these surveys and their accompanying maps and reports that convinced Congress to support the construction of the initial lighthouses on the Pacific coast, which included Cape Disappointment Lighthouse at the entrance to the Columbia River.

In 1850, Lieutenant McArthur, assistant in the Coast Survey justified his recommendations for a lighthouse and six navigational buoys near the river’s mouth this way, “the greatly increasing commerce of Oregon demands that these improvements be made immediately; the more especially, since the Columbia is the most important portion of Oregon for the pursuits of commerce.” A report from the same year, authored by Lieutenant Bartlett, also of the Coast Survey, made more specific recommendations as to the location of the placement and quality of lighthouse necessary on the cape. He elaborated, “the summit of the sea cliffs, (which are not covered by the forest) is the proper position for locating the lighthouse…in this position the base of the tower will be about 250 feet above high water mark…the lantern, or light, should be of a power not less than the best light on Navesink; in other words, a marine light of the first power.” Due to these recommendations the lighthouse was placed at its present height of 220 feet above sea level and it received a first-order Fresnel lens. Not just any lens, but a lens that was originally in one of the “twin towers” in Navesink, New Jersey. This is the lens now on display in the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center.

There was some additional discussion regarding the appropriate placement of the Cape Disappointment Lighthouse, some thought that the light should be on the highest point of the cape, a place called “Observatory Hill.” Others recommended its present location based on the prevalence of fog banks that “generally rest upon and above the summits of the most elevated hills, while those below are clear and unobscured.” In my observations over the last four years, when its foggy at the cape, there are days that I can’t see the lighthouse or its light from the interpretive center, less than a quarter of a mile away and at approximately the same elevation. Regardless of fog, the selected location also offered “a view to the seaward of one hundred and thirty-four degrees. Indeed, the Cape Disappointment Lighthouse certainly is in a prominent location with a grand view.

Much thought and planning went into the locating of the Cape Disappointment Lighthouse. The result of all this effort is the presence of the tower at the tip of the cape, slightly lower than the highest point. After all these recommendations went to Congress it still took six more years for the lighthouse to finally be completed and lit. Ever since 1856 the Cape Disappointment Lighthouse has served as a warning for mariners, a guide to locate the river’s channel, and a scenic viewpoint for those of us on shore.

Information and quotes for this article were taken from “Notices of the Western Coast of the United States,” written by the U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey in 1851.

Fort Columbia has been reborn, again. Fort Columbia has seen many cycles between investment and neglect during its one hundred and eleven years of existence. Construction for the fort started in 1896 and the flurry of projects cleared the hillside, poured thousands of tons of concrete to build the gun batteries, and built dozens of other support structures. All this hurry and yet two of the batteries were obsolete for the First World War. After the war, the fort got even quieter with just a caretaker or two to cut the blackberries away.

Fort Columbia saw its peak of action during World War 2. The fort grounds were covered with the tents and temporary structures needed to support over a hundred troops. When the war ended, the fort was unnecessary, deemed surplus, and it was decommissioned in 1947. The fort became a state park in 1950 and many of the structures were left standing and converted to new uses. There was strong local support for the operation of the new park with volunteers from the Daughters of the American Revolution; local community members staffed an art museum, the interpretive center and even a hostel. Then momentum and support waned.

The blackberries were poised and ready to take over. Then Evan Roberts, now Park manager of Cape Disappointment State Park, volunteer Lee Lowenson, and maintenance extraordinaire Alan Daulton came into the picture, or park that is.

There have been many busy hands involved with kick-starting the restoration of Fort Columbia State Park but these three men have played major roles in the process. It is my hope that we can once again garner the local communities to step up, share the stewardship of this tremendous heritage resource and get involved. We are starting to see a new investment in the park and the blackberries are quaking.

This winter, the interior wall of the former barracks, now interpretive center was replaced from beam to plaster. This work was the main reason the building has been closed to the public for the last few years. The stairway to the second floor has been reinforced and access to those exhibits has been restored that is, once the building is ready to be re-opened. A contract was just awarded to replace the old slate roof, once this project is completed, we hope to open the interpretive center open for tours this summer. Exhibits in the Fort Columbia Interpretive Center are focused on military life, but also includes other exhibits on relevant local history such as the Chinooks and Captain James Scarborough.

Fort Columbia Barracks

There is another museum at Fort Columbia State Park, a house museum located in the Commanding Officers Quarters, sometimes referred to as “The Columbia House”. This building has also been closed to the public for the last several years due to structural damage. Right now, the east wall of the building is being completely replaced, from top to bottom. All the windows from the east wall are being rebuilt, salvaging every piece possible, replicating the rest. This facility is also slated to be re-roofed this Spring and hopefully it will be re-opened this summer. The house museum, when open, will be once again furnished and decorated as it appeared in the early 1900’s.

Three new interpretive panels were recently installed at Fort Columbia State Park; each discusses a gun battery in detail with labeled blueprints for each structure identifying the rooms’ historic uses.

The theater, or former ordinance storehouse, was the venue primarily used during the recent Gateway Community Workshop. The theater was restored several years ago, that is, everything but the roof. Fortunately, a new roof is also in this building’s near future. This already great facility, will soon be all the better and ready for more meetings, concerts, dances, and wedding receptions.

The mine casemate at the fort has been selected as one of the Washington State Parks Centennial Plan projects. This means, by 2013, the plan is to have the casemate all cleaned, lit, with interior exhibits, open for tours to the public. This unique feature of the fort can be seen to the immediate right upon pulling into the park, in the “hillside” west of the theater. To learn more about the Centennial Plan go to: www.parks.wa.gov/Centennial2013/

Fort Columbia State Park is one of the most intact coastal defense forts remaining, it is a treasure for us to share and interpret. The investments being made at the park now will benefit the future visitors to our region, the school and tour groups that walk the grounds, and the locals that explore the beautiful hillside via the hiking trails. So when you see the blue tarp tacked over these structures, know that the work going on underneath them is preserving the stories of a very special place.

As I was walking the path up to the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center this morning I couldn’t help but to recall the article I wrote in late February when I was so refreshed by the arrival of spring. At that time, I noted the presence of the Salmonberry blossoms starting to show. In the last six months I have seen those tiny blossoms turn into pink flowers and then into yellow berries. This morning I noticed the yellowing of the salmonberry leaves and how they are starting to drop. The sword ferns are covered with the dust of their own spores and covered in a dry web of old manroot vines. The grasses are heavy with their heads full of seeds. The thistles’ purple blooms have almost all dried and on breezy days the wind carries their seeds out across the cape. The cycle continues and these bookmarks in time we call seasons are an appropriate time to consider the paths we’ve crossed and those around the bend.

This spring, we enjoyed the help from the Whale Watching Spoken Here Volunteers who kept their eyes peeled looking for any signs of the migrating whales. I remember one afternoon, seeing a grey whale right at the base of the cliff below the interpretive center; of course, this spotting was within an hour after the volunteers had left for the day. I remember the surprise of hearing about the stranded barge stuck in the tiny cove at the base of the North Head Lighthouse. My “Graveyard of the Pacific” campfire program was made all the more relevant through this event; fortunately at no great loss.

The “Arts in the Park” programs really enriched my summer and I think that we’d like to do more cultural performances in the future. The theater at Fort Columbia proved to be a valuable venue for the Fisher Poetry performance, the contra-dance with Hands 4, and the Dragon Arts Chinese puppet show. Other special guest programs this season included Moe Bowstern’s shadow puppet play of the salmon life cycle and Phil and Vivian Williams who performed Lewis and Clark-era fiddle music at the Waikiki Beach Amphitheater. This last weekend, Bob Pyle, author of Wintergreen and many other naturalist books, gave an inspiring campfire program titled, “Butterflies and Bigfoot.” The entire campfire program season was sprinkled with special guests this year. If you have any ideas for what kind of programs you would like to see in your state parks in the future give me a call at 642-3029 and we’ll consider your suggestions.

One of the more memorable events this summer definitely was the dedication of the “Ocean in View” nickel. This event was so successful and memorable, I’m still proud of our community for being able to host it. Another source of pride for me is the new exhibits we produced with the help from the Chinook tribe. The ability to share the history and hopes of the Chinooks is a major accomplishment for the summer of 2005.

It’s now September and the kids are back in school, our attendance at the LCIC has dropped significantly, and the rangers are catching their breath. This month has to be one of the more pleasant times to wander around the Cape Disappointment and enjoy the sounds and smells of the dried leaves at your feet. Get out into your parks and enjoy these quiet and sunny days. This is the brownest part of the year here but the rain isn’t far away and I can almost hear Lewis and Clark’s moccasins spreading the stones on the beach of Baker Bay. The year is far from over, but we’re well on our way!

The only thing constant is change.

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This historic photo shows the old plank road that used to run to the North Head Lighthouse, note the four trees balanced on both sides of the roadway.

Believe it or not, things are back to normal at our endearing headland, Cape Disappointment. Minutes ago I would have said otherwise. A short visit with Webster’s set me straight. Simply, normal is natural. Storms are natural, as is storm damage. It’s normal for storms to bring wind on the North Pacific coast. It’s normal for trees to fall down in the wind. Fortunately, trees grow back, especially here.
I don’t want to downplay the tragedies that some have experienced due to the latest round of storms. I do want to provide some historical perspective, perhaps even a natural perspective. Over the last five and a half years of working at Cape Disappointment State Park I have parked in the lower lot of the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center almost every day. Walking by the same stump on the path from the parking lot to the center for over one thousand four hundred days I have seen both death and birth.

This stump, likely an old Red Alder, was probably cut back in the mid-1970’s when the path was being built. In the last thirty years it has slowly been whittled away by bacteria and bugs, moss and weeds. The outer edges are now mush, I’ve witnessed more and more plants take hold. The stump is practically a garden now, soon enough it will provide the nutrients needed for another tree to take its place. This will happen to your stumps too, it’s normal, it’s natural.

Looking at historic photos of the old plank road that led to the North Head Lighthouse provides another example of normalcy. The narrow road that was cut into the thick Hemlock-Spruce forest was often photographed and ended up on more than a few postcards. The road certainly couldn’t have been that unique, plank roads were the norm in this country where timber is plentiful and it was always coming down. One photo in particular reminds me of the last couple of weeks. It shows a Model A or T driving the old plank road underneath a huge Sitka Spruce that had fallen across the lane, balanced on both sides by the cut sides. Looking closer, I noticed three other such massive trees also balanced in the air high enough for the car to drive beneath them. Those trees are now long gone. But there is no shortage of large trees on North Head.

Stumbling upon the monthly meteorological notes from the North Head weather station from January 1921 I found some strange kind of comfort. On the last day of the month, “the most severe storm ever experienced in the history of this section of the country, broke.” Sound familiar? “The wind reached a very high velocity. A maximum velocity of 113 miles per hour is thought to be a conservative estimate of the velocity.” The report goes on to describe the damage to the buildings and weather instruments on the headland, including that of the wind gauge, the storm warning tower, and both rain gauges. The interpretive center lost its wind gauge in the November storm so we were unable to record the gusts of the last gale. Nothing new, the new wind gauge should be up soon enough to blow off during the next storm.

The report goes onto describe the damage done to the coastal forest. The observer explained that, “a large percentage of the fine spruce timber on the Lighthouse Reservation was destroyed…many trees were uprooted some were broken off where their diameter was as much as four feet.” With what we just experienced this report sounds very familiar. Years from now someone may stumble upon this article and note that in December of 2007 a fifty square foot section of the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center blew off, the North Head Lighthouse lost a window from its work room, and dozens of huge spruce and alder trees littered the campground and crossed the park’s roads. Sounds normal to me; as normal as Mother Nature can be.

Walking by that stump every day I typically view it from a distance of around ten feet. Looking closely I can see a tiny spruce just starting its long life on the cape. Maybe it will live to be one of the giants that will wow visitors to the center one hundred years from now. Maybe it will fall in a windstorm in 2048, if so, it’s only normal.

This stump on the pathway to the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center reminds me that there have been many storms in the past and there will be many more to come.

When the fog rolls in over the coastal forest we get a weak peek into the two years William Kobbe’ spent at Cape Disappointment.

I recently stumbled across a most rewarding piece of literature composed by a very lucky man. “The Rufous Hummingbirds of Cape Disappointment” was written by William H. Kobbe’, who’s father was the commanding officer of Fort Canby during the turn of the 19th century. Kobbe’ was fortunate enough to spend two years living at Cape Disappointment without a job so he spent his time bird watching. To our advantage more than one hundred years later, he not only identified the birds he saw, or frequently “bagged”, he also recorded the environment in which they were found. His observations paint us a picture of the cape and the surrounding area as being “an unbroken wilderness.” Certainly others before him had done the same, namely Captain William Clark in November of 1805, but there is something to be said for the length of time Kobbe’ was able to spend here, kicking around at his leisure.

From my understanding William Kobbe’ was not a scientist; he saw things with his limited education on his subject matter. Consequently, the descriptions that are included in his writings are easy to understand and appreciate by laymen like myself. We can picture what it would have been like to wander the old beaches and headlands before the cape was a state park, before the world wars, before automobiles and RVs. To share this vision of the past I’m sharing the following extended quotes from his hummingbird article which appeared in the 1900 edition of “The Auk,” a quarterly journal of the American Ornithologists’ Union.

Kobbe’ simply describes what he saw in 1898 and added some conjecture where his scientific knowledge was lacking. Speaking of the cape in admitted rough terms he wrote, “This cape is in the form of a crescent and extends about one mile into the ocean, thus enclosing a small bay on the side towards the river. The opposite side receives the full force of the Pacific and is cut by the action of the mighty waves into numerous beaches and rocky headlands. In fact, the entire aspect of the cape is very hilly. At one time, I imagine these hills formed the backbone of the cape, but they are now washed into cliffs on the ocean side and into precipitous slopes on the other. In one place the ocean seems to have broken through and connected with the bay during former centuries, thus forming a low tract or valley in the center of which a small lake has formed.”

When he wanted to capture the scenery of the forests on and near the cape, Kobbe’ used a description written by a R. H. Lawrence an ornithologist who had written a similar report on the birds of Grays Harbor, Washington. This may have shown a lack of confidence in Kobbe’s own ability to capture the conditions of the forest primeval. Maybe it’s a sign of his humility that he inserts the language of Lawrence, we’ll never know. Either way, the synopsis is a glimpse into the past and a precious one at that. “The entire cape is overgrown and where space has not been cleared by the government for a military settlement we find giant spruces and firs standing. Mr. R. H. Lawrence has described this country with such vividness that I cannot resist using his own words. He says, this whole region, “is densely covered with a heavy growth of large timber: fir, hemlock, spruce, and cedar. The firs and spruces grow to be giants: it is usual to see them from four to seven feet in diameter, and over two hundred feet high. Underneath these great trees is generally a thick growth of vine-maple, hemlock, large and small, alder, etc., the ground being a network of ferns, vines, bushes, and brush, with fallen giants here and there in all stages of decay. On all this much moss grows; and long festoons hang from the branches of the standing trees. Except in the few dry weeks of midsummer, the bushes and ferns are generally wet. With one’s face spattered with raindrops and cobwebs, and with an unsure footing, it is slow through such a tangle.” With the exception of the extreme end, the cape is thus an unbroken wilderness.

William Kobbe’ wrote another article for “The Auk” a couple of months later titled, “The Birds of Cape Disappointment.” I would like to share some of his findings with you in the future and we’ll get another glimpse into yesteryear, when the North Head Lighthouse was brand new, Fort Columbia was being built, the South Jetty was in the middle of it’s construction, and when flocks of Surf Scoters took flight, “the loud whistling of their rapid wing beats can be heard a long distance, a half mile or more if the weather is very calm.”

The word “return” has many different meanings in the English language. In the context of the Brown Pelican, it applies to several of these different definitions; for the purposes of this article I will refer to two of them. First, the Brown Pelican has returned as a species, its population has bounced back in the last few decades. Almost ninety percent of those birds that nest on islands near California were decimated from the consequences of the wide use of DDT. Since the ban of DDT and the establishment of the Endangered Species Act, the West Coast Brown Pelican has seen a great comeback; although they are still on the endangered species list. The pelicans’ population has rebounded, or returned. According to “A Birder’s Guide to Coastal Washington” by Bob Morse, the brown pelican “seems to be increasing in numbers and length of stay in Washington.” That’s good news for bird fans in our area.

From the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center there is a fantastic view of the mouth of the Columbia River. It’s a great place to gaze at the winter storms come in, observe the deer munching on the edge of the cliff, or watch birds; lots of them. I couldn’t tell you when the Brown Pelicans left last fall, it’s not something I recall noting. So it is with many things in life, you just don’t know what you’re missing until it’s gone. In the case of the pelicans; I forgot what I was missing until they returned. Case in point, I saw my first pelicans of the year last Friday afternoon, two of them. I was so excited I walked through the building exclaiming, “The pelicans are back, the pelicans are back!” When I came back to work on Monday and saw dozens more it reminded me of why I love these birds so much. There are other fun birds to watch, of course, but the pelicans top my personal list of favorites.

Cape Disappointment offers ideal habitat for many different kinds of birds; from raptors to surf birds to diving birds. The rocky cliff below the center is a nesting site for hundreds, perhaps thousands of cormorants. The sleek Pigeon Gullimonts have been seen darting to the edge of the cape and back. The Surf Scoters have been riding the waves for the last couple of weeks; their colored faces revealing their identity. The turkey vulture has returned recently as well, soaring high above the cape. All of these birds are interesting to observe for different reasons, but the pelican has to be one of the most entertaining. I was up at North Head the other day and I asked the volunteers working there if they had seen any pelicans. They hadn’t. Just minutes later among the lines upon lines of cormorants flying out over the water, there they were. Three pelicans were flying in formation as part of the “v” of cormorants. There’s always a first for everything.

The Brown Pelican has a wing span of around four feet; this allows them to glide for long periods of time interrupted by a few flaps here and there. Like many soaring birds, the pelican is attracted to the thermal wind currents produced from wind off the ocean sweeping upwards from the cape. This is one reason why the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center is a great place to watch these awesome birds. Scanning the river’s mouth from the center’s viewing room there are times when you can see multiple lines of pelicans gliding over the water’s surface. It’s not often we get to look down on birds. Besides their entertaining flying habits, the pelicans’ most distinguishing characteristic has to be their tremendous pouched bill. The Brown Pelican dives with its’ bill wide open until it expands to the size of a beach ball. After the bird resurfaces, the water remaining in its’ bill is let out, leaving only the fish to swallow. Long lines, huge bills, large wingspans all make the pelican a bird of superlatives. If you enjoy watching birds and their antics I invite you to come up to the cape sometime to catch some great views of this awesome bird.

Chinook Observer: July 10, 1907
“We never had a day in Chinook more favorable for celebrating the Fourth of July than last Saturday. By noon all vegetation was dry, the grove beautiful and balmy. There was enough wind to keep the flags spread in the air and from one end of town to the other it was a scene of life and beauty. The houses show the national spirit in tasty decoration, the window, doors and fronts being covered with bunting and flags. The women and children were out in their liveliest and prettiest summer togs and hats. There was a continuous roar of fireworks from the kids. Everybody, including the babies, was out for a good time.

Tom Dawson began the day as usual, by waking all the sleepers with his anvil explosions. Sam Olsen put up $5 to keep the noise going an extra half hour. At 10 o’clock the Liberty Car showed up in front of Chinook Hall. A few minutes later, Captain William Phisterer of Fort Columbia, in command of about 60 of the pick men of the company, was seen marching down Main Street. The sidewalks were soon lined; as the company passed State Senator McGowen it gave him the marching salute. The company rested on Main Street until the Liberty Car, surmounted by Alice Borkman as Goddess of Liberty and the maids, was filled with children in red, white and blue raiment.

The Chinook band played a patriotic aim, and soon the procession in charge of Grand Marshall, Gus Strand started for the alder grove near the school house. Here the grandstand was soon filled with choir, the President of the Day, and orator Howard M. Brownell. The soldiers stacked their arms, and the people took standing and seating positions on the grounds to listen and see the execution of the program.

President Donaldson requested the boys to cut out the fireworks during the exercises. Reverend J.F. Long invoked the Divine blessing. The choir sang “The StarSpangled Banner” and Oliver Houchen in a clear and easily heard voice read the Declaration of Independence. After another selection by the band the fire drill, by 32 large and small children, bearing each a small flag, and prettily dressed, was performed under the direction of Miss Ethel Storms and leaving an excellent impression on the witnesses. The Goddess of Liberty, Miss Borkman, and her maids, took part in the final movements. This was followed by, “Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean” by the choir…

With the song, “America” by the choir and “Home Again” by the band, the exercisesin the grove were concluded, and the program suspended until after dinner. In the afternoon the crowd went to the beach in front of town and saw the bicycle races pulled off. Later the running races and jumping contests were given on the old football field. Louis Hauffe was the starter, assisted by Charles A. Payne as paymaster, and Cen Belknap and Fred Heater, judges. Later the tug-of-war occurred on Main Street. Then followed the races by the gasoline launches, starting abreast of the Chinook dock and taking a course to the government dolphin near Sam Olsen’s trap and return…In the evening there were some wrestling matches by the railroad’s hands and soldiers, not down on the program, which attracted a large crowd and made considerable sport. As darkness came on the air was resonant with the roar large and small firecrackers, torpedoes, bombs, and electric sparks, the streets being full of men, women, and children…”

In some ways, things haven’t changed much in the ways we celebrate the Fourth of July. I really appreciate these old newspaper articles that give us perspective on human nature. They reveal the ways in which we’ve stayed the same as well as progressed or regressed, depending on your point of view.

This aerial photo illustrates how close residents of the Long Beach Peninsula live to the Pacific Ocean. Isn’t it time you went to the beach?

Many things in life change, the ocean remains wild. I remember when I first moved to Washington State, I was doing a college internship at the Mount St. Helens Visitor Center and living in Kelso. My wife and I got the urge to see the ocean; it had been years since we had been there. We had a good excuse. We had moved back to Minnesota, from the Olympic Peninsula, to finish school and get married.

We had just enough time to drive from Kelso to the other peninsula in order to catch the sunset over the ocean. As we drove past the Long Beach Visitors Bureau we saw the brown sign. We had a choice, we could go to the right for one mile to get to the beach or if we chose left it was one block. We turned left.
That sunset wasn’t particularly breath-taking, it wasn’t a beautiful warm sunny evening and it wasn’t the most romantic road trip in our time together. It was awesome nonetheless. Of course it was awesome, it was the ocean after all; the great, big and wild ocean. Then we moved here.

I was elated to get a fulltime job with Washington State Parks, one that allowed me the privilege of living on the coast. We went to the beach several times a week. We clammed in the driving rain. We learned to hide from the wind behind sand dunes. We beach-combed bottles and barnacle encrusted boards. Then something changed and it wasn’t the ocean.

Lately, if I go to the beach once a month I’m lucky. I’m afraid many of us have fallen victim to a “to close to home” phenomenon. If I could be so bold, many of us just plain take the ocean for granted. We’ve been there dozens or maybe hundreds of times but the last time was too long ago. Instead of feeling ashamed of this fact, you can do something about it. Some of you can walk right out your back door and be there now within minutes. Others of us actually have to get in our cars for a few minutes. Either way, the ocean is there, wild as ever, just ripe for refreshing you or me for that matter.
The Long Beach area has multiple options for exploring the beach. You can always drive out any of the beach approaches and enjoy it from the comforts of your car. This feels a little too similar to television for me. I like to get out and walk. Here are a couple of suggestions for places to access the beach by foot.

North Jetty
Located at Cape Disappointment State Park, the parking lot near the tip of the North Jetty remains open until a storm fills it with sand. Although many people enjoy walking on the jetty or fishing from it, it is not recommended. This access provides a short walk to Benson Beach right near Peacock Spit, an always tumultuous stretch of the coast. Sand fences have recently been installed on the beach in this area in the hopes that they will create a protective dune.

Beards Hollow
This is definitely my personal favorite beach in the area. From the parking lot at the north entrance to Cape Disappointment State Park there is a easily accessible paved trail through the wetlands, past an ancient sea stack to the very base of the peninsula. This is one of the best stretches of the beach to explore at low tide, an occasional starfish or anemone can be found attached to the rocks. Please leave the sea life for others to enjoy. For those who prefer the dunes, the Discovery Trail has recently been paved from Beards Hollow to Seaview, so bring your bikes.

Long Beach Boardwalk
The boardwalk stretches for over nine city blocks, west of downtown Long Beach. The boardwalk features facilities on each end, picnic areas and interpretive displays. The adjacent, eight-mile long Discovery Trail, winds through the dunes and over the cape to Ilwaco. Either option keeps your feet high and dry, if that’s what you’re into. I use the Discovery Trail occasionally since it’s a convenient place to walk with a baby stroller, especially when the tide is high and there isn’t much hard packed beach.

Loomis Lake State Park
This park is definitely one of the most underutilized public areas on the beach. Just north of 177th Street on the Pacific Highway, Loomis Lake State Park doesn’t provide lake access. I’ll fill you in on that some other time. If you want a quiet place to access the beach with a short stroll through the dunes check this park out. The parking lot was built huge in former anticipation of less beach driving. There is a restroom, sheltered picnic areas and a paved trail to an ocean viewing platform for the handicapped.

Leadbetter Point
For the more adventurous lot, there’s Leadbetter Point State Park and National Wildlife Refuge. Now is the window of opportunity after the mosquitoes and before the trails flood to hit the northern point of the peninsula. To hike to the ocean beach, park in the northern or second parking lot and take the Blue or Weather Beach Trail (same trail, different names). If it’s just too windy to go out to the ocean but you still need a little re-creation I would recommend hiking on the bay side at Leadbetter Point. If the wind is coming from the south-west, the Red trail, or Dune Forest Loop Trail keeps you sheltered.

I know all the excuses, believe me, I’ve used them myself. Sometime, very soon you need to just bundle up and brave it. If you see the weather break and you need some perspective. Get out there; get on the beach, you live here. If you do make it out to the beach, I hope you see me there.