California Gold: The Mission of San Juan Capistrano

The Mission Historical Placard

I am fascinated with the California Mission system. I'm captivated with the idea of non-American societies existing on land that today we can hardly think of as anything but American. Spanish Catholics building churches and compounds to house local indigenous tribes in modern day Orange County certainly fits this bill. All of this may have well been a million miles from General Washington and his Continentals who were busy with their own land battles at that same time. The Mission system history makes for a strong foundation to California's rich post-contact legacy.

The mission at San Juan Capistrano was founded in 1776 by Spanish Catholics of the Franciscan Order. It was named for Giovanni da Capistrano, a 15th-century "warrior priest" and Crusader. None of the Spaniards involved in the construction of the mission concerned themselves much about the war taking place on the eastern side of the continent. They were doing the Lord's work, training priests, converting heathens, and attempting to expand the powers of a weakening Spain. San Juan Capistrano has the distinction of being home to the oldest building in California still in use, the Serra Chapel built in 1782. It is the only extant structure where it has been documented that Junipero Serra, founder of the first nine California missions, celebrated Mass.

A part of the original cemetery used

for workers on the mission.

Interesting tidbit: The criolla grape, or "Mission grape," was first planted at San Juan Capistrano in 1779. By 1783 the first wine produced in Alta California was from the Mission's winery, a precursor to the state's future wine power.

The natives kept at the mission were the Juaneño or Acjachemen tribe, a tribe who resided throughout present-day San Diego and Orange Counties. At the mission they grew wheat and barley and tended to sheep and goats, all while saying prayers and bowing to the Mission Fathers. In the mid-1800s, the Mission entered a period of gradual and crumbling decline after Mexican government secularization. After California became a state in 1850, efforts were made to restore the Mission to its former state. To this day, restoration efforts continue. During my visit there were several support buildings surrounded by scaffolding where stone walls were being re-plastered.

Looking up through the smoke hole

inside an Indian hut.

The mission was number 7 in the chain of 21 missions created. It was originally designed in the shape of a cross similar to many Catholic churches today. The church once held seven domes and a bell tower so tall it could be seen from ten miles away. Ivy covers the broken walls today. Faded willows sway over the running fountain in the quadrangle and a bevy of flowers fill the mission gardens. Walking into the chapel, my eyes were drawn to the artwork on the walls and the gilded altarpiece before the pews.

"Each year on St. Joseph's Day, March 19," one of the local tour guides said, "the mission celebrates the return of the cliff swallows from Argentina with a traditional Mexican fiesta."

The ivy-covered exterior.

A Mexican fiesta in a Spanish Mission that was once supported by people of the Acjachemen Nation. And today it is a wealthy part of the US. History sure spins a tangled web.

Inside Serra's Chapel.

Strolling around the pleasant courtyard.

"In this Holy Place lie the bodies of those who built the Mission. May their
souls rest in peace."
The graves of the early friars.

I have my camera. And my thick socks. I'm ready to go.

Secrets and Magic: Kualoa Ranch of Oahu

Text and photos by Jason McKenney.

The fog hangs thick like a droopy blanket. The tops of the trees are shrouded in a gray mist that whispers your name, beckoning you towards the dark forest like a forest nymph. Little devils live in there. Waiting for you. They were waiting for me to ride an ATV across the lush, green valley while high mountain cliffs loomed over my shoulder. I was reminded of the scene from Jurassic Park where Dr. Alan Grant and the two kids are swarmed by a flock of speeding Gallimimuses. Kualoa was the location for several of the beautiful exteriors of Jurassic Park. Zipping through on an ATV, I imagined myself being chased by a T-Rex, chomping for my head. I was now at top speed, which was around 20 mph. No way I would be outrunning any giant meat-asauruses on this day.

My and my new friend.

Riding down the hillside and coming out from the low-hanging trees, I saw a large, brown face resting along the valley floor about fifty yards ahead of me. A replica Easter Island Moai, apparently created for a documentary filmed here, greets those who reach this point. Even wary of Raptor and Pterodactyl attacks, I paused for a moment to have a photo taken with the large face.

There is a hush on the valley floor. The green cliffs are like skyscrapers surrounding me on one side. The glory of the Pacific rolls out on the other. The whisper of a waterfall can be identified, probably coming from around the next bend. Another ATV pops out from the behind the trees. Are they on the tour as well . . . or are they chasing me? Best not wait to find out.

Mr. Ed takes a break.

My wife and I visited the Kualoa Ranch during a trip to the Hawaiian island of Oahu. The Ranch is a 4000-acre private nature reserve and working cattle ranch, as well as a popular tourist attraction and filming spot. The valley was a sacred location to ancient Hawaiians from the 13th to the 18th century. As written in the Kumulipo, an ancient Hawaiian genealogical chant, Kualoa is where Papa and Wakea buried their first still born child, Haloa. It is said that the first taro plant grew up from where Haloa was buried at Kualoa.

We marched through a jungle path that looked like an escape scene from Predator. Rough vines hung down from the trees and roots wove around our feet. We arrived at a small dock near the Moli'i Pond and the so-called Secret Island. We were near a flower farm and the tropical fish aquarium, but our objective was to reach another dock on the other side of the Secret Island. Fog floated lazily just above the water as if it were early morning on the Thames. Sea turtles could be seen relaxing just below the water's surface. Every once in a while one would pop up to say hello.

The Chinaman's Hat

Reaching the Secret Island, we transferred to a larger catamaran and set off for a journey around the Kaneohe Bay. Our eager captain led us out towards Mokoliʻi island, also known as "Chinaman's Hat" due to its curious, tilted shape. The boat ride normally looks over blue, shimmering waters under bright, sunny skies. On this February afternoon, the skies were cloudy and a thick marine layer still hugged the shoreline. A creepy, smoky atmosphere surrounded everything giving a unique view not usually captured in the promotional materials.

We grabbed lunch at the cafe inside the gift shop: barbecue pork, rice, macaroni, sushi, and Asian salad. We sat outside the gift shop at a picnic table that was being closely monitored by a few lazy cats. A skinny chicken walked around our feet in hopes of finding stray scraps.

Delicious Waialua Soda
bought at the cafe,

On the other side of the highway from the ranch entrance were a few men building a horse fence along the edge of a grassy field. They wore long-sleeve shirts, jeans and boots and were probably doing similar labor to what they did every day, whether tourists showed up or not. More than just a tourist spot, the ranch offers a peak into the lives of native Hawaiians who work the land, raise animals, and produce goods to earn a living. They do this in a place most outsiders don't think of as anything more than a vacation spot. In the midst of magical forests, secret islands, Hollywood, and tropical paradise, everyday people still work, struggle and look forward to going home in the evenings to be with their families.

The cliffs are moving.

Vivi prepares for the tour.

Approaching the Secret Island.

A cloudy day on the water.

Moving out into Kaneohe Bay.

A view of the Ranch from our catamaran.

A visitor looking for lunch.

Is that a T-Rex in the distance!

California Gold: Whale Watching from Long Beach to PV

A dolphin approaches the boat.

Text and photos by Jason McKenney

The boat came to a near standstill, slowly drifting with the tide like a giant carcass. The tour guide asked the captain to shut down the motor while we waited for the beast to rise back to the surface. It had been nearly six minutes since it last went down. While they can stay under water for much longer, they were usually below for 5-10 minutes on this day.

"They're just having fun with us," the tour guide said. "They're hiding now, but they'll pop up nearby just to say hi."

Passengers roamed from one side of the boat to the other, scanning the with binoculars. The breeze was cold but the sky was clear. I tightened up my hoodie and readied my camera for the next breach.

We had left the Rainbow Harbor in Long Beach nearly two hours earlier. I was on a whale watching tour north towards San Pedro in hopes of spotting a blue whale or two. It was March. We were a couple miles off the coast and my stomach was turning a little. I rarely get seasick, but the waves were a bit choppy and I was doing my best to stay settled. We had spotted a few dolphins swimming along the side of the boat on our way out. They were moving right along with us. Playful little critters. Acting as if they were dodging the speeding hull, daring one another to move ever closer to its edge.

A whale breaks the surface.

"There she blows!" Someone actually yelled that when the first mist was seen.

Whales don't actually blow water out their blow holes come to found out. The blow hole apparently is their nose. Upon return from their deep dives they expel the air they had sucked in previously. This
warm air (from being inside the whale's body for so long) condenses upon contact with the cooler air above water and forms a mist. Two whales broke the surface just as another whale-watching boat was approaching from the opposite side, maybe a quarter mile away from us.

Leviathan.

"Don't scare them off," an older lady complained. "Go find your own whales."

The whales migrate through this area during the spring, moving south to find cooler waters before summer. During the winter, they will migrate back towards the equater to breed. Along this stretch of coastline people can seen blue whales, gray whales, and humpbacks along with several smaller breeds. They can sometimes be easily seen from the land. A small gray whale nearly came right up on shore once on Redondo Beach, playing for its audience.

Flukes up!

The complete whale watching tour lasted nearly 4 hours. From February to April are the best times to go and see these beautiful animals, so take a camera, your sunscreen, and a maybe some Dramamine.

Whale tail preparing to splash.

Folks watch the performance from the deck.

A pod of dolphins approach the boat.

The lighthouse of Palos Verdes on a beautiful day.

California Gold: Redondo Beach Day Date

Vivi is ready for the Boardwalk.

Text and photos by Jason McKenney (except where noted)

Escape to the Coast

We're married. We have a young child. Date nights are now few and far between. We have no extended family nearby. Going out for dinner at night is out of the question. So my wife and I put together plans for a day date. I took the day off from work. My wife, Vivi, works part time from home and can ditch work for a day easy. We dropped off our daughter Frankie at the daycare and made our way to the Redondo Beach Boardwalk in hopes of experiencing as much as the humble harbor has to offer.

Moving out towards the breakwater.

We live in an apartment right on the beach, and we are very familiar with the Boardwalk. We stop in to get gelato on most Fridays. We have eaten at many of the restaurants. We've played the arcades and we've walked along the pier enjoying the picture-perfect sunsets. I've even cast a few lines at Fisherman's Wharf, pulling in small mackeral and large weeds. What we hoped to accomplish on this day was a few of the water-based excursions and a few of the food joints that we had yet to experience.

Our first stop at ten in the morning was the Fast Kayak dock to rent stand-up paddle-boards (SUP) for an hour. There are days when the water off Redondo Beach can be very calm. Like a giant duck pond. There are spots near some of the breakwaters that generate waves and attract surfers, but for the most part, SUP is very popular here due to the controlled conditions.

"You can only paddle around the harbor," the pretty girl working the station told us. "Please do not go beyond the breakwater."

Stand-up Paddle-boarding.
Image from Surfari SUP and Surf.

The harbor along the International Boardwalk is protected by a man-made breakwater of large boulders that help keep the water calm and provide great toilets for the albatrosses and pelicans. Pushing off into the shimmering bay, it took me a few beats to get up on my feet. SUP boarding is good exercise for the core and for the upper legs. You're constantly balancing yourself. You also feel closer to nature. You're standing on a floating ironing board atop the sea like a Son of Neptune. The fishes look up to you in ah. The fresh ocean air circulates through your nostrils and lungs. The sun is perched right above your shoulder. You're on top of the world.

A SUP teacher paddled by me leading two girls on their own boards. They were scared. Tentative in their paddling. I turned to see how Vivi was doing on her board. She was paddling into the bay, but she was yet to stand up.

View of the harbor from the water.

"Don't be chicken," I told her. "Up on both feet at the same time. Use those thighs."

"I'm too scared!" she said with a self-effacing giggle.

SUP'n can be tricky the first time. It requires strength and balance, and just like climbing a tall building, you should never look down. At least not until you have learned to embrace the challenge. Enjoy it. Laugh at the dark waters below.

I paddled my way out across the harbor, soaking in the gorgeous day. I paddled back, passing the two girls on their first lesson. The world slowed down. I noticed the fish trolleys out near the horizon, being followed by a cloud of hungry birds, probably on its way back home. A weekday before noon

From a pedal boat, looking towards
Palos Verdes.

in the harbor is quiet, drowsy. Lovely.

Moving closer to the dock I noticed Vivi was already there, putting her shoes back on. Tacking in a boat to a dock can be tricky. Moving in a SUP board is similar. Left here, right there, just a touch, and . . . KER-SPLASH! In the water I went. I zigged when I should've zagged maybe. Lost my balance like an amateur.

I have to admit, it felt liberating to fall into that bath. Giving in to gravity. Submerging into the void. The girl helming the rental station tried hard not to laugh. Vivi just bust loose. The only problem was I was wearing my only clothes, including my t-shirt. I would have to find new clothes if this day date was to continue successfully.

A New Set of Clothes

Approaching Polly's Cafe.

I was soaked. We ducked into one of the small clothing shops along the Boardwalk that smells like incense and is full of beach trinkets. I picked up a Redondo Beach t-shirt and a pair of board shorts. I was a new man. I threw my wet clothes in a shopping bag and we were ready for lunch. We walked to the end of the Boardwalk where the R10 Social House stands. They specialize in seasonal, farm-to-table offerings inside a trendy, bistro-like setting. The view of the harbor is gorgeous. The buffalo sliders are amazing. I had a local lager to wash down the saltwater I imbibed when I fell in the drink, not knowing we would soon be experiencing more local beer than I could have expected.

Boat rides along the coast run daily
most of the year.

Whether its a day trip or a week-long vacation, there is a fine balance between scheduling everything out to make sure you don't miss what you want, and just exploring off the seat of your pants in hopes of finding things you never anticipated. On this day, I had a thumbnail sketch of what I hoped to accomplish: SUP, eat, pedal boats, eat, boat ride, eat. I didn't want to plan too much detail. I wanted to remain open to any surprises that might pop up. Falling into the water off the SUP board is an example. I obviously hadn't planned that (at least not consciously), but being forced to buy some RB surfer clothes was a great tangent. It's great to have a plan when you travel, but being open to happy accidents and modifications is a useful skill. These are the moments that we usually remember with the most fondness.

After lunch we returned to the Fast Kayak dock and rented a pedal boat to take out into the bay. It was an over-sized toy. Similar to those you might see in small Midwestern park with a lake. Good exercise. Me legs were sore the next day. We pedaled out towards the breakwater, said hello to the gulls, and slowly approached Polly's Restaurant from beyond the pier. We turned around and glided gently to the middle of the bay, soaking in the beautiful California sun. The air was clean. The breeze gentle. The ocean air made me thirsty.

Wrapping It Up

The Sampler. The Swirly is the foamy
one on the right.

Every time I visit the ocean I get a craving for fish n'chips and beer. I was still full from R10 when we left the pedal boats, but I was now craving something cold and hoppy. When we left Fast Kayak I spotted a recently opened King Harbor Brewery location on the Boardwalk. King Harbor is one of the newest (and finest) additions to the South Bay micro brewery scene and their location in the harbor is a great place to visit.

Vivi and I each ordered a sampler set which included 4 small glasses of some of their best contributions. These included an IPA, a lemony lager, a sweet ale, and what they refer to as a Swirly which is a chocolaty stout with a hint of vanilla. All were delicious.

We capped the date off with a sightseeing boat ride out of the harbor and out along the coast towards Palos Verdes. Redondo Beach is probably the quietest member of the South Bay beach cities. Regal Manhattan Beach is home to several LA sports stars. Hectic Hermosa Beach caters well to the young
party crowd. Redondo is more laid back. More dive bars than night clubs. More family eateries than posh restaurants. Home to more senior citizens than young singles. But it still has a lot to offer both on the water or along the Boardwalk.

View of the harbor from R10. Image from R10's website.

California Gold: Huntington Beach, Surf City USA

Bonfires on the beach.
Image from Surf City USA.

There is something about surfing that has always spoken to me. Something about the crashing waves, the briny water, being drenched in the sun and air one moment and then submerged in a dark void the next. Then climbing out on the sand like a prehistoric beast looking to collapse in blissful exhaustion. Southern California is the capital of surfing in the United States. Hawaii would be a close second, but the California surf culture has a rock beat in its soul as opposed to a ukulele. This puts it over the edge in my humble opinion. Ukuleles are nice, but surfing should be done with high reverb and drums on the soundtrack.

The main drag of Huntington beach.
Image from Beach Cities.

If Southern California is the capital of American surfing, then Huntington Beach is its thumping heart. The Orange County beach community is fully geared for supporting the sport and lifestyle of surfing. The beachfront contains the Surfing Walk of Fame. Surf supply shops line the streets. Fish taco joints are in abundance. ESPN2 shows up a few times a year to record various tour competitions boasting many of the best surfers in the world. The waves are consistent and beautiful. The weather is a dream. The entire vibe is mellow, calm, and smells of rum punch and seared ahi.

During my first few years of living in California, I spent a lot of time in Huntington Beach. I surfed, I hung with friends, I went to bad rock shows, gorged on tacos and beer, and surfed some more. I wasn't good, but it was fun. I loved the culture. It was relaxing, far removed from the problems of the rest of the world. When my parents came out to visit me in my new homeland I couldn't wait to take them on a tour of Surf Mecca.

Mom and I outside the Ruby's on
the pier.

We walked down Main Street past Hurricanes Bar & Grill, Sugar Shack, Fred's, and Perqs. We crossed PCH and continued out to the Huntington Beach Pier. The waves lapped up against the pillars like gentle fish. The sun was high and mighty. Ruby's at the end of the pier looked like an island oasis. We stopped in for lunch, consumed burgers and old-fashioned chocolate malts that arrive at your table in a glass with the excess in a silver mixing cup. The kind of malted that really sticks to your ribs.

Huntington Beach is a great place to let days slip away pleasantly like daffodils floating along a bubbling brook. The beach calls, the waves beckon, the laid-back restaurants sing their siren song. Before you know it, the sun is going down one more time and your shoulders and nose have got a little bit of a burn.

Image of the pier from Surf City USA. 

With my mom across PCH and Main Street.