Bandon by the Sea - Oregon

No wonder Bandon, and especially the historic Old Town district, is regarded as one of America’s finest small communities and a sheer pleasure to visit, even during brutal winter storms. Perched on the southern banks of the Coquille River, Bandon offers up quaint shopping, a picturesque small harbor, fine dining, fine art, superb golfing, and mile after mile of empty, wide, dune-swept, pristine beaches that have attracted visitors in the know for years. It also boasts some of the most profoundly beautiful sea stacks, spires and towering rock formations found anywhere on the world-renowned Oregon Coast.

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For me, it’s the sight of these craggy, jagged, free-standing sentinels and offshore islands that beckons my camera and mandates a brief visit whenever we cruise by. Driving down Highway 101, twenty miles south of Coos Bay, it’s hard to miss the prominent arch that invites all travelers to spend some quality time wandering Old Town and its little harbor. Built originally on the now-faded lumber and commercial fishing industries, and lots of cheese-making and cranberries, the town was practically reconstructed from scratch in the wake of a devastating 1936 fire that caused millions of dollars in damages, mostly to the business-end of town, and claimed the lives of eleven people. Today Bandon is a seaside haven of tranquility. It’s clean, quiet and moderately upscale in the right places. Folks don’t walk, they stroll beside the tiny harbor where old men on the docks sit patiently on flimsy chairs and drop hook, line and sinker into the protected waters of the slow-moving Coquille. It’s a town of wood slats and gray split shingles emitting a restrained maritime ambiance; rusty anchors, thick rusty chains, coiled lines (rope), shells, crab pots, decorative pylons and colorful floats. That delicious warm blast of salt air will flare your nostrils and make you want to raise anchor, hoist the mainsail and take to the big blue Pacific leaving all your worries behind. If your boat’s in dry-dock, or the rolling, open sea makes you sick, drive north to the observation deck of 889-acre Bandon Marsh National Wildlife Refuge on the west side of Riverside Drive, an extensive saltwater marsh and fertile mudflats home to thousands of birds. Depending on time of year - spring and fall are best - you just might see “… Western and Least Sandpiper, Semipalmated Plover, Black-bellied Plover, Pacific Golden Plover, Red Phalarope, or Whimbrel …,” and if you’re lucky, Puffins, Bald Eagles, and the California Brown Pelican, to mention a few. Continue north across the big, green, steel bridge spanning the wide Coquille and turn left into Bullards Beach State Park where you’ll find a large family-oriented campground tucked in the twisted shore pines far from the dependable ocean breeze that blows across large swaths of beach grass. If you crave sand and surf, follow the road a couple of miles to the historic and popular Coquille lighthouse at the base of the North Jetty, a photogenic landmark near a jumbled mass of huge, bleached Douglas fir logs and unruly clusters of contorted driftwood. After you’ve toured the inside of the lighthouse and snapped your obligatory photos, hike through tall grass-fringed dunes that roll north in lumps and bumps seemingly forever. Keep walking north down the wide beach and eventually surf and sand will be devoid of people. Playing or simply lounging on the beach makes for a great day, whether on foot or horseback. Don’t be dismayed by the dense fog that occasionally clamps down during summer, it’s simply a matter of adjustment; bring a warm hat, windbreaker and the right attitude and you’ll still have lots of fun. Naturally, a brilliant blue sky is best for experiencing this powerful and dynamic ocean; long, coiled tubes of blue water crashing and crumbling and roaring, followed by that raspy hiss; splashing white foam sweeping over cream-colored sands, surf pounding and tiny sandpipers racing along the ever-shifting water’s edge. Overhead, raucous sea gulls the size of chickens screech and float like kites in expectation, hovering in that constant blast of onshore air, surveying the picnickers below, and castle-builders and Frisbee-throwers and entwined lovers on the red blanket, and maybe a windsurfer leaping and bounding in leaps and bounds over constantly heaving and crashing ocean waves, and the wind howling and the loud roar of that shiny, bright orange Coast Guard helicopter as it twirls up and down the coast just above the sparkling water in search of vessels in distress, someone to rescue in their desperate time of need. Too much crashing and rumbling and roaring? Need more of a challenge? Want to spend some money? Well then, strap on your golf shoes and grab your Callaway Diablo clubs for some of the finest golfing you’ll find anywhere in the world, according to Golf Odyssey. Up the coast a few more miles is the Bandon Dunes Golf Resort offering four golf courses - Bandon Dunes, Pacific Dunes, Bandon Trails, and Old Macdonald (opening June, 2010). You can also test your swing and ego at the nationally acclaimed 18-hole Bandon Crossings, or the venerable 9-hole Old Bandon Golf Links on Beach Loop Drive behind the Best Western Inn at Face Rock Resort. Though I personally shun this mind-numbingly boring “sport” and was in the habit of mocking all things golf, I’ve come to respect the skill and dedication required after I shanked a bucketful of balls one balmy, frustrating afternoon on Oahu twenty years ago. It’s not as easy as it looks; hence, I snicker no more. But the real action, from a photographer and tide pool wanderer’s perspective, lies along the beach south of the Coquille River where you’ll discover sea stacks, rock formations and offshore islands unparalleled on the West Coast. For the bird’s-eye view, head for Beach Loop Drive that skirts a high, prominent bench south of Old Town. Some of the most spectacular stacks can be seen near the Sunset Motel. Face Rock Wayside provides sweeping views of large offshore islands and endless sand. If your legs and lungs can handle the climb back up, navigate down the tiered stairway to the beach, and explore. Want to blow the cobwebs out of your cluttered life and taste the primeval? Visit in winter when powerful Northwest storms rage and howl ashore with a vengeance. So what if you get soaked, or blown off a cliff; it’s one experience you’ll never forget. Hurricane-force storms will have you leaning into the wind and clutching the guardrail for support. The sky is dark and gray, dreary, the pounding waves deafening and relentless, driving enormous logs ashore like toothpicks and carving stone pillars into perfection; the ocean crashing with brutal intensity into those stubborn islands and casting spray 200 yards into the bleak, waterlogged sky. It’s great stuff! Just be careful of the surf; turn your back and it could kill you, knock you to the ground and sweep you out to sea. The easiest way to explore tide pools and wander through rocky stacks is to visit South Jetty Park. From the Old Town waterfront, drive south on First Street and follow the “Beach Access” signs (don’t run over the pet geese), keeping the river and lighthouse on your right. Large driftwood logs await you, plus a small city of stone pillars, and when the tide is low, rich tide pools brimming with sea stars, crabs, urchins, anemones and mussels galore. One sunny day at the South Jetty parking lot I heard some commotion over by the river’s edge and joined a gathering crowd that was all a buzz with excitement, pointing and gasping, for out in the channel we saw a small boat with two passengers adrift. Their engine quit, they lost the ability to steer and were at nature’s mercy. The incoming tide was pushing them toward the large, treacherous boulders of the North Jetty. It quickly became apparent this couple was in serious trouble and faced almost certain death if they were driven into the rocks. We waited, I took pictures. Then, the United States Coast Guard arrived in the sky like a knight in bright-orange shining armor. At first, the helicopter used the powerful down draft of its rotor blades to force the boat back from the jetty, but that failed. The current was too strong, the waves too menacing as they lifted the small boat up and set it down and picked it up and set it down, each time drawing closer and closer to the wall of ragged boulders that would grind the fiberglass hull into expensive splinters and shards. If memory serves me, the Guard lowered its rescue basket to the small boat’s deck, and after much confusion and false starts, plucked one of the passengers out of harm’s way. The captain remained, rising and falling with the waves that spun the craft 180 degrees, and then back the other way and dropped the boat on the rocks where it was battered and rocked and pounded broadside as the large, orange helicopter hovered overhead and again lowered its basket. We watched in disbelief as the boat’s owner struggled to climb in, somehow, someway, the boat rocking and water spraying and the helicopter roaring directly overhead, and all of that noise and wind and up went the basket with its catch and away flew the chopper. Within minutes the boat was swept out into the channel and began to sink, stern first until only the tip of the bow showed, and then, just like that, the uninsured, twenty thousand dollar pleasure craft vanished beneath the surface for good. And what, you might ask, does this have to do with your blissful vacation in Bandon? Ummm … let’s see … absolutely nothing, although in retrospect I think of this miraculous, highly professional rescue by some real super-heroes as apt metaphor for life, something to ponder the next time you stroll down Bandon’s beaches. When the unexpected casts you adrift despite all plans and preparation, when disaster is imminent and all hope is lost and your world is crumbling, and you’ve lost the ability to navigate the treacherous shoals of life’s challenges and you’re certain to crash and burn on the North Jetty, your only salvation just might come from above, and nowhere else.