A Few Coastal Highlights

Mendocino Triple Junction

Out in the Pacific Ocean, about twenty-five miles west and a little south of The Lost Coast, is an unusual geophysical formation called the Mendocino Triple Junction. The spot where three major tectonic plates in the Earth's crust come together--The North American, the Pacific, and the Juan de Fuca/Gorda. In addition to the plates merging, the infamous San Andreas Fault line, which stretches almost the length of California, terminates at the Mendocino Triple Junction. The MTJ, the epicenter of much of the frequent seismic activity of the north coast, is also responsible for the unusual geology of the surrounding land area: the steeply uplifted coastal mountains, the eccentric flow of rivers south to north and west to east, and even the magnificent Cascades that stretch into Oregon and Washington, including Mt. St. Helens.

As magma first oozed up between the tectonic plates during prehistoric times, it formed a cluster of small volcanic islands, all submerged out of sight now below the ocean surface by more recent geophysical events. But in the early times before it slipped back into the sea, the largest of the islands had formed a gas blister on its molten surface that eventually cooled into a stone vault, its exterior the shape of a large cemetery tomb. The submerged island and sealed crypt are situated ten miles due west of the village of Mendocino, thirty-five miles south of The Lost Coast. The secret vault has remained undisturbed through the ages, withstanding countless earthquakes, even the great San Francisco quake of 1906 that traveled up the San Andreas Fault line as far north as Shelter Cove on the upper boundary of The Lost Coast.

Mendocino

Mendocino resembles a New England fishing village, scooped up whole from the Atlantic coastline and deposited on a Pacific coast bluff, positioned to watch the Gray Whales with new calves that migrate from December through March up the west coast from the birthing grounds in Mexico. A vibrant town of 1,000 permanent residents, with no fast food restaurants, motel chains, or Wal-Marts. Once a lumber and fishing center, Mendocino is now a thriving art colony with a renown Art Center, an excellent repertory theatre group, and a fall series of weekend art auctions that attract artists, tourists, dealers, and buyers from around the country. At the far southwestern edge of the downtown area, which includes gift shops, a pair of book stores, art galleries, a family-owned grocery, curio shops, several old-fashioned hotels, a home-made ice cream fountain, and a number of graying single-story wood-framed residences, sits a classic 19th century steepled church with a white picket fence.

The village is a rough-cut jewel in the wilderness.

It was Monday afternoon and Augustine St. John was tired. Her last painting class at the Art Center was winding down, and it had been a long first day. She'd driven up Sunday afternoon from San Francisco in time to eat a quick dinner and catch a performance of CAT ON A HOT TIN ROOF by the repertory theatre group--they were doing three Tennessee Williams' plays this summer and early fall. But Stine hadn't slept well, even though her room at the rustic Mendocino Hotel was delightful, quiet, and quite comfortable. Sam, of course, had dominated her thoughts. She'd agreed to the one-week long teaching gig--two three-hour classes a day--more to get away from their place in the Marina than for the generous stipend. Sam was moving out of her apartment on Chestnut Street this week, the shaky relationship finally over. From the beginning he'd been more involved in his law firm down on Montgomery Street than interested in her--except for his sudden rages after she talked briefly to some man at a party or met innocently with one of her male artist friends or smiled politely at a male neighbor. Sam was too absorbed, too insecure, too driven by jealousy, just not emotionally available to her. Despite his movie star good looks, the one-way relationship had quickly worn thin, eating away at her composure, until she was unable to do any painting of real significance during the last two months. Thank God, it was over.