There is a group of three large rocks just north of Fort Ross that did not look familiar. Either I missed this stretch of coast, or I paddled past here in bad weather and stayed too far out to sea. As I headed for the first one of these, I saw a big bright lump on it, and some smaller dark ones, that were probably seals or sea lions. As I got closer and closer, more and more lumps on the rock raised their heads, until it turned out that the entire top of the rock was covered with sea lions. I wondered if the large lump was a lost female elephant seal, but when I got closer, it turned out to be an enormous male Stellars Seal. I didn't know that Stellars Seals came this far south. (We have seen them in Oregon). When their fur is dry, a Stellars Seal is a gorgeous golden yellow color. I turned away from the rock, so I wouldn't bother them so much and headed for the rock that was farthest north and closest to shore. The wind was slowing me almost to a standstill, and I decided to go past this second rock, and then head back around the third rock and drift past the first one for some pictures. There were a few seals on the second rock, including a baby one. There was a middle sizes sea lion sitting next to the baby, and I would have guessed that this was it's mother, until it started barking at me. Now I'm confused: I thought that the females did not bark like the males. And I though that the males did not help raise the young. Now I don't know what to think.
The third rock was the farthest out to sea, and it was actually three rocks with gaps between them. One of these gaps was channeling the waves, and even the medium sized waves would rise up into 3 meter breakers going between the rocks. Now that would be quite a ride! From a distance, I saw only a few sea lions way up on top of the rocks, 6 meters off the water. As I came around the northern corner, there was a strong current pulling me back, and I had to dig in and work hard to keep going. Just as I made it around the corner, me and a large group of sea lions on the rock surprised each other. The first notice I got was when 500 pounds of sea lion dove off the rock and hit the water less than 10 meters from me. I looked up to a chorus of barking and saw another dozen large males 5 meters up on the west side of the rock. A few more of them jumped, and as much as I hate disturbing them, I stopped to take their picture. The wind and current drifted me back towards the rock and that really upset them. I caught a picture of one in mid air as the rest of them went over the edge. I felt guilty about scaring them off their perch, and I began to feel a little insecure on top of the water: I knew that there was about 3 tones of upset animal somewhere under me, attached to 12 sets of teeth that compare, on the scary scale, to the chompers of a bear. Fortunately, sea lions would rather swim away from a threat than charge it like a bear would. After coming up to stare at me from a safe distance, they disappeared. I made my pass at the first rock on the way back, without disturbing those sea lions enough to make them jump off. They saw me coming from a distance, and I drifted past without paddling and splashing and doing other alarming things.
The trip back to Fort Ross Cove was a breeze (literally) and I returned a distance in 20 minutes that took me over an hour to do going the other way. The wind, waves, and current were all with me instead of against me. The landing in the cove was easy and uneventful. Once back in dry clothes, I stopped to visit Caerleon, a friend who is working for the park at Fort Ross. On the way out I had stopped to say hi and tell here I was going out. She was distracted then and barely had enough attention to spare for a wave and a hi. She was on her way to give a talk to some park visitors: Dressed as a Russian peasant woman, barefooted and carrying an otter skin and a musical instrument of some sort.
When I came back, she was still in peasant dress and barefooted, but was climbing up and down to the attic of one of the buildings with an architect. Apparently the state is going to do some renovations on this old building. This time, Caerleon had more time to pay attention to me, because she knew that I carried a digital volt meter in my vest. They were surveying the attic, and the lights were not working. She had me go and debug the breaker panel. It was a 220V panel, but only one side was hot. When you hook up a 110 breaker, you have a 50-50 chance that it will get the hot side, but of course the 110 outlets and the lights were on the dead side this time. Breaker panels are designed to be maintained by union electricians, so they are amazingly easy to work on. You can pull a breaker out while power is on, remove and attach wires, and then snap it back in to power it back up. (Of course Marty thinks this is yet another dangerous thing I do all the time). I suppose I could have turned off the bus-bars that they snap into, (the main switch was only 10 cm way), but I didn't think of that. A few minutes of fiddling, the lights came on, and I was a hero. The architect impressed me by making a notation about the wiring on the blueprints. Documentation! Now the next poor shmuck who works here will find a note describing how the panel is wired up.
Caerleon is an "Interpretive Specialist" at Fort Ross and is getting her Masters degree at SSU in some aspect of local history. So the last time Marty and I stopped by Fort Ross I asked Caerleon the questions that had popped into my mind the first time I paddled by Fort Ross in my kayak. It turns out that the Russian Fir hunters did not paddle their kayaks down the coast to the fort. They carried them in sailing ships and used them for local hunting expeditions where stealth was an advantage. And the three-holed kayak was no longer necessary by the time they got this far south. The three-holed kayak, if you read my previous journal on the subject, was for two Eskimo slaves to paddle their Russian master (in the center hole with the gun). By the time the Russians got as far south as Fort Ross, the Russian Orthodox Church had given the Russian American Company a lot of flack about their slaves, and had convinced the company to treat them like citizens. I was amazed to hear that a group of organized Christians would actually have such a christian attitude! It was still pretty despicable behavior. The Russians would come upon a village of Eskimos, and inform them that they were living on land that belonged to the Czar, but congratulations, you are now Russian citizens. Citizenship required paying taxes, and if you didn't have money you could pay in firs. In the early days, the Russians would keep the women an children hostage while the men were taken on long expeditions down the coast to hunt and trap for firs. In these days, men might not be allowed to see their families for years. In the later years, visits to your families were required by the church. But with the Russians sitting on the coast, and the animal populations decimated by fir trapping, the lifestyle the Eskimo used to live was no longer possible. They had no choice but to work for the Russian American Company.
