| Carol Ann (Gratsos) Howell... page 8 |
| VACATION #6 SURREAL SUNKEN CITY San Pedro, California. The Point Fermin peninsula juts into the blue Pacific Ocean just half an hour's drive south from Los Angeles. Western Avenue bends down the hill toward the ocean. You follow its curves and, suddenly, there is Catalina Island filling up the whole horizon! You turn left on Paseo del Mar (which means a walk by the sea) and follow the ocean all the way until it deadends at Point Fermin Park. It's morning. You park on the nearly deserted street in front of Bessie's Diner (Walker's Cafe) which has been there for thirty-five years, and go in for a homemade breakfast. If you're lucky, you get the table in front of the big window from where you can gaze at the park and see Catalina. After breakfast you take a stroll around the park and by the lighthouse. It's pleasant, but the best is on the other side of the chain link fence. You've come to visit once again a place not of this world -- SUNKEN CITY. At about l928 the bluff started collapsing. The theory is that there are subterranean caverns as well as those under the ocean, that they were eroded by draining culverts, leaking sewer lines, that the slide movement was intensified by the three faults converging on the bluff. It is said that the earth once moved eleven inches in twenty-four hours. The homeowners in the late l920s were warned of the impending doom, and all but two houses were transplanted to other streets. You can see some of them on Shepard Street. The cliff cracked downward and inward, rocking in its own cradle. This geological curiosity is called the "Point Fermin Slump." The inner part slumped lower than the outer part. In geological circles, it is considered unique and is recorded and studied by students. It's still moving and changing -- rock formations are emerging from the ocean that weren't there fifty years ago. What remains is the evidence of the old Pacific Avenue, fragments of house foundations, and railroad ties from the Point Fermin Trolley, which went from Cabrillo Beach to Bluff Place, passing in front of the houses and ending at Gaffey Street. But knowing the history takes none of the eeriness from the experience. When you come to it, what is natural and logical leaves you and you begin to see with the same acceptance of one who is dreaming -- anything is possible and credible -- up is down, down is sideways, the surreal, the fantastic juxtaposition of the elements. Except for the fifty year old palms, there is nothing perpendicular to the horizon. Sunken City is different every day of the year. In Spring the gashes are filled with yellow mustard and pink wildflowers deceiving you into believing you can walk anywhere -- but beware! You must chose each step and stay away from the edge of the cliff! Many people fall to their deaths each year. In February Sunken City becomes one of the best whale watching places, and you've seen one come as close as the buoy. It's hard to choose, but winter is probably your favorite time -- on a weekday -- when you have it all to yourself, when you can hear nothing but the sounds your own shoes make, the sighing of the wind, and the whispering of the waves. You can't say what you think about when you're there, but it's a positive feeling -- something vaguely speaks of triumph --of nature being in charge -- of cities and industry not winning every prize. There's something of the wild horse in you that rears and paws the wind, saluting the ocean and praising the clouds, and you think, Sunken City, please keep sinking ... just for me. ***** |