Still half wild

HALF MOON BAY, Calif – “Don’t paddle outside of the harbor,” says the worker at the kayak rental shop. The waves outside Pillar Point Harbor can be unpredictable and dangerous.

But the waves are what I came to see. I planned to kayak past the breakers off the shores of Half Moon Bay to look at Maverick’s, a point break feared and admired by surfers around the world. Only the most insane surfers ride these waves, which, in winter, rise up to 50 feet and break on bulldozer-sized boulders half a mile from shore.

I slide a red kayak into the choppy harbor waters and paddle toward open sea. Cold gusts shove my kayak toward shore.

I eventually heed the worker’s advice. After an hour of paddling, I head for shore, vowing to return another day to Maverick’s.

During Prohibition, bootleggers slipped boats past Half Moon’s giant boulders under cover of night and fog. Today, the bay has outgrown its reputation as a port of entry for rumrunners. Now the bay is about seafood joints, antiques shops, cozy B&Bs and an annual pumpkin festival.

But this coastal town 28 miles south of San Francisco, at the base of the Santa Cruz Mountains, is also a great playground.

The lush Santa Cruz Mountains cradle Half Moon Bay against the sea. One way to get here is to take on Devil’s Slide, a crumbling promontory that is the bane of the California Department of Transportation. When the road is intact, Highway 1 from San Francisco snakes along steep cliffs, over boulder-strewn shores, dropping into Half Moon Bay from the north.

But Devil’s Slide is a hellish neighbor, shutting down Highway 1 nine times in 70 years with rockslides, mudslides and roadway fissures. The last Devil’s Slide closure – in April 2006 – lasted four months and cost $9 million to repair.

The alternate route into Half Moon Bay is state Route 92, a winding, two-lane road that runs east-west from San Mateo. When Devil’s Slide closes Highway 1, Route 92 is a gridlocked mess and the region’s tourism – a $16-million annual industry – falters.

So why isn’t everyone cheering that Caltrans is boring two freeway tunnels to bypass Devil’s Slide and plans to widen Route 92? Some residents fear that reliable access into Half Moon Bay will invite growth and development, and that means a mini Monterey: commercial and crowded.

But there is still time to catch unspoiled Half Moon Bay. The tunnels won’t open until 2011.

Later, I drove about a mile north of Maverick’s to Fitzgerald Marine Reserve. At low tide, the pools at Fitzgerald Marine Reserve stretch for nearly 50 yards toward the ocean. The reef, covered in dark sea grass, seaweed and purple coralline algae, shelters a slithering world of sea stars, hermit crabs and anemones.

I walk toward the water, studying the tiny creatures at my feet. A park ranger intercepts me. It’s against the law, she says, to disturb a marine mammal.

What mammal? She points to the tide pools where harbor seals are sunning themselves.

Three bird watchers train their binoculars on a large brown hawk circling over Pescadero Marsh Natural Preserve.

“The Harrier hawks are the only hawks that you can distinguish their sex by their color,” says one of the birders.

They turn their attention to a great blue heron that swoops past and lands at the marsh’s western tip. Herons, the birders say, build nests in the nearby eucalyptus grove.

The 500-acre preserve is about 15 miles south of Half Moon Bay. Birders walk slowly through the marsh flats, following sandy trails, around a knee-deep creek and a large, murky lagoon bordered by waist-high buckwheat, mustard, milk vetch, blackberry and thistle plants.

The sound of splashing comes from a nearby creek. Two young men in waders are plodding upstream, casting fishing lines into the slow-moving waters.

“They’re allowed to fish in the preserve?” I ask.

“Yeah. Steelhead trout,” says a birder. .

Later, state fish and game officials say that the creek is one of a few waterways in the region that support a steelhead population.

According to surfing lore, Maverick’s was named in the early 1960s for a German shepherd named Maverick, who followed three surfers into the waves off Pillar Point.

One surfer, worried that the swells were too rough for the dog, leashed Maverick to a car bumper. From then on, surfers called the break “Maverick’s Point,” later shortened to Maverick’s.

The waves at Maverick’s are born from Arctic storms that send swells along the California coast until they hit the reef at Pillar Point, which juts out of the northern end of Half Moon Bay. An underwater terraced reef rockets the swells skyward, producing gigantic waves.

Maverick’s remained relatively unknown until 1994 when Hawaiian big-wave surfer Mark Foo drowned here. The San Francisco Chronicle called Maverick’s “treacherous.” Sports Illustrated called the waves “giant” and “massive.” The Orlando Sentinel said Maverick’s waves were “monsters” with the “power and speed of a locomotive.”

Now Maverick’s secret is out, and I’ve come to see whether those Arctic swells have kicked in.

Determined to see a surfer take on Maverick’s liquid giants, I leave my B&B early the next morning and drive to a dirt parking lot behind the Half Moon Bay Airport. I have some inside knowledge: The B&B owner says I can get a better view by hiking down the cliffs on the western side of the peninsula.

I follow his instructions and climb to a wide beach, looking south at the point break.

Peering at Maverick’s distant waves, I see what looks like black gulls bobbing on the swells. But as I get closer, I realize these are surfers in black wetsuits.

I watch a dozen riders line up in a north-south row on the water. When the waves crest and break to the south, the surfers paddle hard to catch a ride.

I spot a man in a black wetsuit, standing on top of one of the huge boulders pounded by the crashing waves. One rogue wave and he’s a goner.

But he must not care. Maverick’s has that kind of effect.

If you go…

To get to Half Moon Bay, fly to San Francisco International Airport. From the airport, drive 7 miles south on U.S. Highway 101 and then turn west on state Route 92 for 13 miles.