From the Gorda rock to the landing at Pacific Valley was a distance of about four miles which we made in something like forty-five minutes, passing through a field of sea Kelp for probably half a mile enroute. It was while passing through this field of Kelp that we sighted our first sea otter of the trip, but we were careful not to frighten him unnecessarily, as we in all probability, [would do] so we planned [that we] would run out from the Valley the next day and try for his pelt, but circumstances prevented and he was left for some future time.

We ran in on the sand at Pacific Valley late in the afternoon mailing a successful landing and was greeted by almost the entire population of the settlement. We had been seen by a lone horseman shortly after we had ran through the narrow gauntlet at the Point and he had rushed into the settlement and gave the alarm.

Our appearance was hailed with genuine delight as visitors here is, or was an occasion for considerable excitement. An entire year will sometimes elapse without the presence of a stranger calling unless it may be a solitary horseman passing through the country in quest of beef cattle.

So naturally when the news spread that a fleet of three boats were pulling into the little cove it aroused the entire neighborhood. The sky next morning gave evidence of an approaching change in the weather, being slightly overcast and the wind had whipped into the southeast. Before noon the order came to arrange our intire [entire] outfit for a storm as the sky was now intirely [entirely] overcast and the wind blowing strong from the rainy quarter. We dragged our boats far up the beach out of all danger and securing the provisions by snugly housing them with the sails.

All camp utensils, tents and enough provisions for several days, were lugged up a steeper trail to the plateau weve where a suitable place had been chosen for the camp.

The wind here was almost a gale and if one has never had the experience of staking down a tent in a strong wind he has lost many valuable points in camp live [life]. There were four of us detailed to raise the tent, while the other three was [were] to return for the last of our outfit, which would take them at least a half hour before they would return. They returned and the tent lacked considerable of being up. As fast as we raised it, faster the wind brought it down. Now in order to raise a tent properly it is spread out flat on the ground and the ridge pole slid into place [over ‘?] the end or uprights from which a small iron rod projects from one end, is next called for. The small iron rod in the ends of each upright is inserted into a hole at the ends of the ridge pole, then by raising on the uprights the tent is raised into place.

But every time we would get it a few feet above the ground the wind would catch it from the underside and it would rise like a balloon and sail over or [our] heads and collaspe [collapse] some ten or fifteen feet away.

Several times this had occurred, where [when] we finally decided it would continue to occur as long as we used our present tactics. So we changed our plans and attempted to stake the windward corner down before attempting to raise it again. This, we were at the second or third time when help arrived. Twice after we had enlarged our force, it broke loose from its moorings and almost lost itself over the bluff, which was some fifty feet away, but after much sailing and collasping, [collapsing] flapping and fluttering, slapping us with the guy rope, which would smart like the cuts from a buggy whip, swearing and laughing ordering and suggesting, we at last conquered the wild fighting of a tent and began to move in, just as large drops of rain began to fall driven at an angle of forty-five degrees so strong was the force of the wind.

We realized we were in for a wild night and in the knowledge of the fact we made everything as secure as we knew how. At dusk that evening the storm broke with a furious gale of wind from the southeast bringing with it a driving rain, which came down in a perfect deluge pouring on our canvas roof in one continuous roar. The sea was lashed into a great wilderness of white foam and spray, the billows running mountains high and throwing water hundreds of feet high when it hit with tremendous force against the rocks that lined the shore near our camp.

This was the first use we had made of our tent and we found it none to large when our beds were spread and the cooking outfit stored in the scanty room that was left. We had neglected to gather material for our beds so we were obliged to get what comfort we would by lying on the bare ground.

We had retired early, but not to sleep as the storm had somehow put us into a sort of an anxious and nervous mood. We did not feel frightened, but there was an air of expectancy which we all felt, altho no one admitted this strange and wild lonesomeness which he harbored unconsciously, yet he was aware of the fact that everyone else was more or less effected in the same peculiar way.

About midnight we were awakened by the water soaked ground which someone had discovered had got into our tent and under the beds. What we should have done when we had got the tent up was to have dug a ditch around the tent and banked it up against the sides. Our negligence earlier in the evening brought us now in the wildest kind of’ a night out with [without] shovels to turn away the cause of our disturbance.

The wind and rain was still driving at a furious rate and even with our sou-easter on, we were becoming rapidly waterlogged.

Perhaps ten minutes work completed the digging of the ditch and we had just ducked into the tent when the wind with a roar louder than usual struck our tent broadside and the pressure was too great for the guy pins

which had become too weak to withstand the strain on the account of the water-soaked ground. Before we could sound the alarm we were left without a shelter, the tent completely soared beyond our reach and was found next day lodged on the top of the brush that lined the brow of the bluff some 50 feet from where we had attempted to spend the night.

[Here is missing pages 58 through 97] <removed picket fence repeat from typed memo RWR>


Big Sur…NEXT