The easy stroll to charming Naples Bluff overlooking the sea near historic Dos Pueblos is just 16 miles from my Westside home, and there is parking along the frontage road near the Dos Pueblos exit (see 4.1.1. driving and photo there).
Back in the day, I managed to make several scuba diving forays into our local Pacific Ocean, out by Anacapa Island or Santa Cruz, and all of this in preparation for marine archaeology work in Israel and also along the southern coast of scenic Cyprus Island in the eastern Mediterranean.
Endeavoring to earn a Ph.D. in ancient Greek history, my dissertation included field work diving at Cape Kiti (Cyprus).
There, I led a dive team and retrieved Bronze Age stone anchors carved out of local limestone, weighed and measured them, and turned the heavy artifacts over to the Cypriot Department of Antiquities.
Back at UCSB, I extrapolated some East Mediterranean maritime trade routes from this data (4.1.1. McCaslin 1980).
In order to maintain my scuba certification, I occasionally had to “recertify” and go out on a check dive with Dennis Divins, UCSB’s diving officer at the time.
In the fantastic warm and shimmering waters above Naples Reef, near historic Dos Pueblos, Divins would put me through various underwater safety procedures. We’d tumble off the UCSB Radon dive boat into the Pacific below the looming tan cliffs of Naples Bluff hovering off to one side.
Thus, my first views of this enchanting promontory upon which I invite you to saunter came from the ocean side while bobbing in the kelp-strewn Pacific (or standing on the small Radon’s deck).
Although folks have apparently called this “Naples Bluff” for a long time, I had not heard the term before this month.
From the freeway side, after a half-mile easy walk on a long-abandoned crumbling asphalt stretch of the former Highway 1, we encountered an historical relic in the dilapidated structure of the old Naples train station.
The Southern Pacific arrived there in March 1901, and various real estate schemes had tried to build a vacation town “by the sea” in this area since the 19th century.
The Naples Development Co. began minor construction here in 1887, and eventually built a chapel (usually termed the “Haunted Chapel”), the Naples Dance Hall, a blacksmith shop and the fancy Naples Hotel.
All of this culminated with a new train station, but the development ideas languished with the late 1901 arrival of regular train service. More photographs and information on the wild series of development scams here can be found in Tom Modugno’s fine 2014 article (4.1.1.).
Crossing the railroad and slipping through a couple of gates, we entered a glorious meadow made wholly — and temporarily — green after our generous winter’s heavy rainfall.
We did not observe many trees on our stroll along the inspiring bluff, and only a few small conifers crowd together in the small barranca (arroyo) splitting part of the Naples Bluff headland. Adventurous walkers saunter into a giant meadow, a sort of extended bluff that finally leans over the sea.
In early May, the entire green area had waving grasses, but by mid-July most of this vegetation will die down and turn brown. We observed hundreds and hundreds of pelicans soaring back and forth right above the bluff’s edge, catching the updraft and searching the sea for their food.
We felt an extreme sense of gratitude for the green health and verdant plenitude at mid-spring, and it’s too early for serious wildfires to threaten. Wandering in nature frees the spirit and also acts as a counter to despair and anxious worries.
I experienced a déjà vu moment when 40-year-old memories jumped out as I recalled how grad student friends and I would jog these beaches and headlands on intense runs from UCSB’s “New Married Student Housing” out to Devereux, then cover many miles on beach around the points and oil wells all the way to Refugio State Beach and back.
I would race guru Franko and Rolf Scheel below Naples Bluff, past Dos Pueblos Ranch, and of course this had to be at low tide.
We would sometimes be obliged to swim around the various promontories, laughing with pleasure. Ah, those glory days of youth that Bruce Springsteen sang about in 1984.
As you walk toward the sea cliffs, the arroyo appears on your left and deepens. We chose to climb right down into it following a narrow, sketchy trail — I had my hiking sticks, wore heavy boots and kept reminding myself as a septuagenarian that maybe those “glory days” have receded.
But I knew we had a very low minus tide and wielded my sticks as we continued to descend and found an unlocked gate opening inward to prevent cattle from going onto the strand.
Led by my friend, we scrambled down the last slippery bit, desperately using the black knotted rope provided (seen at Louis’ feet in the photo).
The promised beach was as enticing and magnificent as imagined, and we wandered about marveling at the sea, the surf, the strand, and the magic Channel Islands out to sea.
If one hiked “north” (mostly west, of course), in less than a mile he would end up in front of today’s active Dos Pueblos Ranch. I’d avoid that, although passage is free below the berm line.
We kept away, and thus missed out on the twin promontories that lend their prominent positions to the “Dos Pueblos” monicker.
If you want more on “Santa Barbara’s Royal Rancho,” check out Walker Tompkins’ 1987 tome of the same name [4.1.1.].
In pre-Contact days, there were important Chumash settlements on each headland, one called Kuyamu and the other termed Mikiw. Many of us are pleased that commercial developments have failed on Naples Bluff.
Tide-pooling for a while, I remembered that the Naples State Marine Conservation Area here was established only in 2012. These three square miles form a California MPA (marine protected area), and fishing or collecting are forbidden in order to protect the rich marine environment.
My diving days have long passed, but stirred by old underwater and jogging memories, I eventually returned home to the typewriter and find myself happily just sittin’ back tryin’ to recall the glory days.
4.1.1.
Drive north on Highway 101 to the Dos Pueblos Canyon Road exit, where there is adequate parking. Then drive the wending D.P. Canyon Road under the freeway and end up heading south for about two miles until reaching the sign for re-entering Highway 101 south. Park behind where you see me standing in this photo:
Dan McCaslin, “Stone Anchors in Antiquity (Studies in Mediterranean Archaeology” 61: 1980). On the fascinating history of the twisted “Naples Development Company” and its real estate shenanigans, see Tom Modugno’s comprehensive article “Naples” at goletahistory.com/naples/. On European settlers’ Dos Pueblos, see Walker Tompkins’ “Santa Barbara’s Royal Rancho: The Fabulous History of Los Dos Pueblos” (1987). Matt Kettman has detailed recent efforts to reclaim and save the Dos Pueblos area for the original Chumash: independent.com/2023/01/04/daring-dreams-for-dos-pueblos-ranch/.