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July 7, 2003
Campus painters brave wind, wildlife to work
on Año Nuevo Island
By Jennifer McNulty
It had been 19 years since the old Foghorn Building on Año Nuevo
Island had been painted, and it showed.
Moss was thick on the shady north side of the building, and what little
paint remained on the rest of the structure clung in small patches that
had somehow survived the relentless wind, driving rain, and salt spray
that batter the island year round.
When Jim Durning, UCSC’s lead painter, was asked to prepare a
bid for the job, he knew what was in store for him and jumped at the
opportunity: Coincidentally, Durning was part of the last crew that
painted the Foghorn Building, and he wanted to return to the remote
location, despite the hardships he knew he would face.
"It was the weirdest job I’d ever done, and that’s why
I had to do it again," said Durning. "That and the fact that
nobody else is allowed out there."
As part of California State Parks, Año Nuevo State Reserve is
a well-known destination for nature lovers, who flock to the park to
observe the enormous northern elephant seals that haul out on the mainland.
But only researchers are allowed on the island itself, which has been
closed to the public for years to protect its natural resources. Conditions
are primitive: There is no running water and only one light bulb on
the island.
The environment is so fragile that narrow boardwalks have been laid
to protect the underground nests of the rhinoceros auklet, a seabird
that roosts on the island, and visitors are confined to the walkways.
Constructed nearly 100 years ago, the Foghorn Building is now primarily
used to house a diesel generator and shelter researchers. Round-the-clock
monitoring of the island’s prodigious wildlife requires frequent
overnight stays by the scientists. In addition to northern elephant
seals, California sea lions, endangered steller sea lions, Western gulls,
and rhinoceros auklets call the island home during parts of the year.
Steve Davenport of UCSC’s Long Marine Laboratory accepted Durning’s
bid for the job and made an exception to the no-visitors policy for
Durning and his crew, veteran painters Rudy Carrillo and Pedro Manjarrez.
The team was ferried--along with all their painting equipment, food,
and drinking water--across the narrow channel in an inflatable boat
this past spring.
It took four roundtrips to ferry all the paint and equipment across
the channel to the island, and the wetsuit-clad painters dodged seals
and sea lions on both sides of the crossing.
"We had to bang the sides of the boat to get the sea lions out
of the way," said Durning. "And the elephant seals sleeping
on the beach couldn’t care less about us. They were pretty stubborn,
especially the little ones. They’d look at you with big eyes, like,
‘What do you want me to do?’"
On their first visit, the crew pressure-washed and scraped the building
before being turned away by a spate of bad weather. Two weeks later,
Durning and Carrillo returned for a three-day residency during which
they worked 12-hour days and never left the island.
"We pretty much worked from when we got up in the morning until
dark, just because there was nothing else to do," recalled Durning.
"The work was hard. I enjoyed doing it, but I’m glad it’s
done."
By the end of the job, they applied 60 gallons of heavy-duty paint
to the 100-year-old structure, working despite 40 mph winds and divebombing
gulls.
"The gulls are annoying," said Durning. "They not only
screech at you, but they come at you. We had to wear baseball caps because
they’ll poop on you on purpose."
In fact, when they first arrived on the island, Durning was so struck
by the bird noise that he turned to their escort, Pete Dal Ferro of
Long Marine Lab's boating program, speculating that the noise must die
down at night. That evening, Durning understood why Dal Ferro hadn’t
offered reassurance. "It didn’t get quieter at all,"
he said, rolling his eyes at the memory.
"It got noisier because the birds fly in and walk across the roof
all night. I had ear plugs, and I still couldn’t sleep."
For Carrillo and Manjarrez, the job marked their first visit to the
popular state park. "I was excited to see the sea lions so close,"
said Manjarrez. "I never imagined seeing so many so close, and
the elephant seals--those things are huge!"
Before the trip, friends warned Manjarrez about the great white sharks
that troll the waters around Año Nuevo; everyone was relieved
not to see that particular species during their visit.
Carrillo, too, marveled at the wildlife but also said he felt a bit
like he was "invading their territory," especially when the
birds would screech warnings as he stepped gingerly around their nests.
Park managers and researchers take every precaution to minimize the
impact human visitors have on wildlife, including blacking out the windows
of the bunkhouse that boasts the island’s only light bulb to shield
the birds from artificial light.
Dal Ferro tapped Patrick Berk and Rich Walsh to help ferry the crew
and make their island stay as comfortable as possible. With two ice
chests fully stocked with sandwiches, spaghetti, chorizo, and beans,
the painters were well-fed during their island adventure. And some conditions
were notably better than in 1984, when the crew had only a citizen’s
band radio for communication. "Now we have cell phones," said
Durning. "And last time, it was summer, when the smell from decomposing
animals was really awful. The smell wasn’t so bad this time."
Going three days without a shower was a hardship, but everyone agreed
that the outhouse, which boasts an unobstructed view out over the Pacific
Ocean, "has the best view in the world."
"I’d do it again," Carrillo said of the unusual assignment.
"Hopefully they won’t wait as long the next time, though.
It makes for a lot of work."
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