COURTESY
ELKHORN SLOUGH SAFARI



 SQUID FISHERMEN WERE UNLOADING their catch in Moss Landing Harbor one recent morning as ten landlubbers with binoculars hanging from their necks boarded Captain Yohn Gideon's pontoon boat for an Elkhorn Slough Safari. Eight were from nearby cities, two were guests from St. Louis. None were avid birdwatchers or naturalists, but they had heard this trip was fun.
The day was warm and clear, the water was calm. Captain Gideon steered his 27-foot boat past the fishermen, past brown pelicans and cormorants sunning on a jetty, and into the slough's quiet waters. During the next two hours his passengers were cheered, amused, relaxed, and uplifted.
Elkhorn Slough winds almost seven miles inland at Moss Landing, midway between Santa Cruz and Monterey, at the head of the Monterey submarine canyon. It is a 2,500-acre expanse of salt marshes, mudflats, and tidal channels and one of the least disturbed wetlands on the California coast. Although it's just off Highway 1, few coastal travelers know of its existence. Those who find their way to the Elkhorn Slough National Estuarine Research Reserve visitor center, then walk a shoreline trail, come to appreciate it as a wildlife sanctuary. But only on the water can you fully see the slough's natural riches, especially if you go with a guide who knows the place intimately.
Yohn Gideon is 35 and a native of Nebraska. He was a Navy officer stationed at Moffett Field about seven years ago when he took a trip to this piece of the coast and fell in love with it. He settled here to do what he had always wanted to do: "work outdoors, be with people, and be in business for myself." On today's trip he's assisted by Tania Gale, from New Jersey, a graduate student at the Moss Landing Marine Laboratories. "When I first saw this place I almost cried," she says. "I had seen maybe two seals in my whole life." Throughout the trip they work as a team, offering bits of natural and human history, deftly interwoven with long moments of quiet.
As we were pulling out of the harbor, Gideon had pointed out trollers, other commercial fishing boats, and a research ship. The harbor supports 400 commercial fishing boats, 200 pleasure craft, and 20 research vessels, he said. The Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute is in Moss Landing, and launches its deep-sea diving trips into the 10,000-foot-deep submarine canyon from the harbor.
We had not gone far before we saw our first sea otter, lying on its back, paws folded on its chest, feet sticking up into the air. It was so straight and still, at first we thought it was a log. Moments later there was another otter to starboard, then another directly ahead, holding something in both paws, taking it to its mouth. Then we saw several more, swimming together. "This is amazing," a man who had lived in Big Sur in the 1950s said under his breath. "They were never this far north. Really amazing." He had been dubious about the trip, but now there was awe in his voice.
For information about the Elkhorn Slough Safari, call (408) 633-5555 or refer to www.monterey-bay.net/ elkhornslough. Trips are offered daily at midtide; reservations are required.

COURTESY
ELKHORN SLOUGH SAFARI

 "Look," said Gideon, pointing. "There's a tern at two o'clock. Watch its flight. It's like a fighter jet. A gull, compared, is more like a cargo plane. . . . See there, straight ahead on the water, some grebes--best dancers in the slough and also great parents. They build the nest in the reeds so it floats, and they carry chicks on their backs." During their mating dance, grebes pass a piece of nesting material beak to beak and flit over the water surface as if on tiptoe, without moving their wings.
Each passenger had been given a wildlife counting assignment, and as the boat moved slowly forward we were all busy tallying, with the assistance of our sharp-eyed captain. A small crowd of harbor seal adults and two pups lounged onshore, a lone curlew pecked in a mudflat. Willets, brown pelicans, another curlew, great egrets, more otters.
The harbor seals looked up at us as we passed. Otters played in the water. In the eroding sandbanks we spotted shorecrabs in their burrows. "Crab condos," said Gideon. "At one time there were plans for a human condominium development here."
At 10:40 a.m. our captain turned off the engine and Gale announced: "Now put away your binoculars and put on your imagination. We are going back 10,000 years." We were near the head of the slough, looking out at grassy slopes, a few trees, a barn or two. Some of the hillsides were planted with strawberries. With Gale's prompting we envisioned a brackish marsh bordered by tule reeds, an Ohlone village on a hillside, people digging for shellfish. A cloud of birds rose from the gleaming water. We heard tule elk crashing through the reeds and bugling.
"The strawberry farmers would not appreciate those elk crashing through their fields," said Gale, bringing us back to the present. That world was gone. But this place is still wild by present standards. It is not a marina lined with expensive houses; it is a reserve, thanks to the local citizens, scientists, and others who fought successfully to protect it. Gideon restarted the engine.
We disembarked in high spirits, having counted 53 sea otters, 113 harbor seals, and 32 bird species, including great blue herons, great egrets, and snowy egrets. The Elkhorn Slough Safari had lived up to its billing--"You don't have to travel halfway round the world to take a safari into untamed lands rich with wildlife."
"You see different things each season, and with every kind of weather," Gideon said. In autumn the long-distance travelers fly in from the Arctic on their way south, in midwinter they start the return to their nesting areas in full breeding plumage. Because many birds also overwinter here, midwinter is a great time to come if you want to see thousands of birds. Foggy days are good because the birds are calm and often on the ground, and the otters tend to raft up. Big storms sometimes blow in seabirds you don't otherwise see here, so the day after a storm is a good time to come. The otters do different things at different times of day and with different tides.
Some of us had already decided to return with friends or family. What a great way to celebrate a birthday, or to show the real California coast to a guest from New York. Before bidding goodbye, Captain Gideon recommended some nearby restaurants where we could sample the local catch.
Yohn Gideon makes a living by these tours and provides part-time work for graduate students and various experts (wildlife photographers, birders) whom he brings along. This may not provide a luxurious living, but the job satisfaction is off the charts. Not only does he get to spend his mornings out on the water, observing the ever-changing scene, but he has the pleasure of passing on his knowledge of the slough and seeing his passengers' delight. It's impossible to be gloomy on this trip, or to lament the destruction of nature--not while you're watching nature so alive, not while every moment can bring a new discovery.

More Naturalists at Large

Michael Ellis ranges from tidepools to mountains in the San Francisco Bay area, leading Footloose Forays (707) 829-1844.

Chris Stevenson offers Southern California Odysseys and Urban Treks in the Santa Monica Mountains and Los Angeles natural areas (310) 390-8345.

For ranger-guided kayak tours of the Klamath River estuary, call Redwood National and State Parks, (707) 464-6101, ext. 5265.

The California Division of Tourism website (gocalif.ca.gov) lists more tour providers in its guidebook pages.

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