I was maybe eight years old when I first read Scott O’Dell’s Island of the Blue Dolphins. It’s a captivating story about a teenage girl who survives alone on an island for nearly two decades. She has no choice but to become entirely self-sufficient, building her own shelter, hunting her own food, fashioning her own clothing, her only companion a wild dog she manages to tame. Part of the allure for me was that it was a survival story about a girl. Most books like this tend to feature boys (Gary Paulsen’s novels, like Hatchet and The River, come to mind), so O’Dell’s story was invigorating and inspiring. Possibilities swirled through my suburban brain. Could I coax a squirrel to eat out of my hand? Could I collect enough bird feathers in our yard to make a dress like Karana’s?
The most amazing part is that O’Dell’s book is based on a true story. Though there are many more questions than answers about the mysterious Native American woman, we do know that she lived alone on the island of San Nicolas—a windswept and remote member of California’s eight Channel Islands.
Few facts about her can be verified for certain, but it is believed that she belonged to the Nicoleño people living on the island. However, when the last remaining members of her tribe—most of whom had already been killed in conflicts with seal hunters—were rounded up and shuttled to the mainland in 1835 by the Franciscan friars eager for cheap labor and Christian converts, she was left behind. Several accounts say that she was searching for her son, who was missing from the boat. Subsequent ships sent to the island to search for her were unsuccessful. The story of the “Lone Woman of San Nicolas” became something of a legend on the mainland. But 18 years later, in 1853, Captain George Nidever, a local sailor and hunter, decided to try his hand at finding her. On his third attempt, he located and followed a trail of footprints on the island that led him to the lost woman. She welcomed the captain and his men as guests, and they spent a couple of weeks on the island with the woman, hunting and learning about her way of life as best they could through the language of signs and gestures.
When they returned to the mainland she came with them (willingly) and was taken to the mission at Santa Barbara. At this point you might be thinking, “Aw, a happy ending!” Well … not so fast.
First, nobody there could communicate with her. She spoke a language unrecognizable to them or to the native peoples residing at other nearby missions. The missionaries christened her “Juana Maria,” and she reputedly was cheerful and good-natured, seeming to be happy in her new home. Secondly, as was the fate for so many natives, she died of disease just weeks after her arrival at the mission.
Figures. After surviving on her own for 18 years on a deserted island! A small plaque honoring Juana Maria adorns the wall of a courtyard at the mission today.
So last summer, an interesting trip came about: My husband and I, along with my parents, met up with my sister and her family in San Diego. We then road-tripped up to Santa Barbara to see the mission, and … to visit Channel Islands National Park, and thus check off one more location on my bucket-list quest to explore all of the U.S. National Parks.
Of the eight islands in the group, only five are part of the park system and open to visitors—the island of San Nicolas is not one of them. So although I couldn’t see the island where “Juana Maria” actually lived, I got about as close as possible and used my imagination to complete the picture.
Channel Islands National Park is one of the lesser-visited in the park system, and it is not hard to see why. It takes a bit of effort to get there. It’s not the kind of place where you easily pop in for a day hike, or book a relaxing weekend at the lodge (there isn’t one). There’s no comfy “driving tour” with convenient pull-offs for your photo ops. If I say “Pacific island” and you picture Tahiti, well, might need to recalibrate your expectations. However, for those intrepid explorers willing and able to go for it, a visit to the islands is an adventure you won’t soon forget. Its remoteness and ruggedness are part of what makes the place so spectacular. So channel your inner Juana Maria and prepare for some memorable experiences!
1. The Ferry Ride
The island we visited, Santa Cruz, is the largest and nearest to the mainland, but even so it requires an hour-long ferry ride to get there. I’ve been on ferries a couple of times, but never a ride as long or, frankly, as rough as this one! It wasn’t exactly a sight-seeing pleasure cruise … though we did see some delightful sights, like sea lions clustered on a buoy enjoying the sun, and dolphins bouncing along outside of our wake. And after an hour at sea, with no land in sight, it gave me chills when our island finally emerged out of the haze, remote and mysterious. I couldn’t stop thinking about Juana Maria, her solitary existence on an island like this one…. Did she walk along the cliffs, gazing out toward the horizon, waiting for a ship to appear?
My eagerness to arrive at the island was twofold. Because as we zipped across the water, bumping over the waves, my fellow passengers began to lose the battle with seasickness. One after another they staggered to the rails, their retching masked for the most part (thankfully) by the wind and waves. It made me start to feel queasy, but I couldn’t tell if I was actually starting to feel a little seasick or if it was just the power of suggestion. Nobody in my party succumbed, perhaps because by chance, we’d chosen seats in the part of the boat that was the calmest. A stroke of luck! Or was it?… (Guess where all the seasick passengers were instructed to convalesce?) Let’s just say I was good and ready to disembark by the time we reached the island. As a little extra insurance, we made sure to stop by the island canteen to pick up some dramamine tablets to pop before the return trip.
(Hmm. Maybe I shouldn’t have led with that story…. Don’t let it deter you from visiting the islands! Really, it’s worth the trip. I promise. Just take some dramamine. And maybe ride in the open cabin on the top of the boat. That’s what we did on the return trip, and the fresh air was fantastic.)
2. Island Foxes
One inhabitant of Santa Cruz is the island fox, and these critters are bold! Reading about them in our guidebook before our visit, we crooned, “Oh, I hope we get to see one of them!” In fact, it would have been hard not to see one. Unlike its nocturnal mainland brethren the gray fox, the island fox has no natural predators and therefore is active at all times of day … especially during visitors’ lunchtime picnics. They were practically tame, sidling up to our tables, trying to elbow their way in for a bite of sandwich.
Sort of like the Galápagos tortoise or Madagascar’s ring-tailed lemur, the island fox lives only on the Channel Islands. In addition, the subspecies on each island is actually unique—so the island foxes we met on Santa Cruz are not exactly like the foxes on any of the other islands. They are adorable creatures and have the most expressive and inquisitive little faces. Just be prepared—they are persistent to a fault … and in addition to being about the size of the typical housecat, they are similarly disinclined to following orders from humans.
3. Surf or Turf
Visitors to Santa Cruz can explore the natural wonders by land or sea. Hiking trails of varying difficulty circle and bisect the island, and there is a kayak and snorkel outfitter from the Scorpion Anchorage area. As we were day visitors to the island (some people stay and camp), we had a limited amount of time to explore and decided to focus on hiking. We hiked the Cavern Point Loop Trail and a portion of Smuggler’s Road, peaceful forays that cut through fields of wildflowers and hugged the clifftops, offering expansive vistas of the bright blue sea.
Being a Mediterranean-type climate, there aren’t many shady trails, but the constant ocean breeze combined with the sun to make our hikes quite comfortable.
Given more time on Santa Cruz, visitors should definitely explore it by sea as well. Guided kayaking trips navigate the sea caves around the shoreline, affording a unique perspective on the island’s flora and fauna. There is even more to see below the surface, if you can brave the chilly Pacific waters. Snorkelers and scuba divers can explore the magical kelp forests in the crystal clear water, which we looked down into from the cliffs high above.
At its warmest, in September, the water is only around 60 degrees! We did at least wade out into the ocean, carefully picking our way across the rocky, pebbled beach. It was frigid. Being fully submerged in the water to dive would certainly be … invigorating!
And since we hadn’t packed our Gillyweed…. Aquatic exploration will have to wait for the next visit.
All in all, our California adventures were an unforgettable combination of fact and fiction, sea and sand. I’m not sure I could survive alone for 18 years on a deserted island, but next time, maybe I’ll at least give the overnight camping a try.
For Further Exploration
The National Park Service has a section about the Lone Woman of San Nicolas, featuring connections to O’Dell’s novel, information about the history and culture of the native peoples, and updates about archaeological discoveries on the islands.
“Stranded on the Island of the Blue Dolphins: The True Story of Juana Maria” is a detailed article from JSTOR that tells as much of the story as it is possible to know.
Island of the Blue Dolphins and Zia (a sequel) by Scott O’Dell
For more information about visiting Channel Islands National Park, the National Park Service website has you covered.
Don't Fleece the Bees 