POINT CABRILLO LIGHTHOUSE WALK скачать в хорошем качестве

POINT CABRILLO LIGHTHOUSE WALK

CASPAR, CALIFORNIA, South of Fort Bragg in Mendocino County Point Cabrillo Lighthouse: One Flash Every Ten Seconds, and a Thousand Stories in Between October 9, 2025. I turned off Highway 1 onto Point Cabrillo Drive, the kind of coastal road that feels like it’s leading somewhere important. I passed Caspar Beach, where the surf was lazy and the campers were just starting to stir, then wound through the trees until the road opened up to the Point Cabrillo Light Station parking area. It’s a good setup—EV charging stations, restrooms, and two trails to choose from. I took the undeveloped trail down, a soft path through coastal prairie, and returned via the paved one, making a 1¼-mile loop that felt like a walk through history. The lighthouse itself stands like it’s always been there—built in 1909 after the wreck of the Frolic and other ships that misjudged the fog and rocky shoreline. It’s part of a 300-acre state historic park, and one of the most complete light stations in the country. The keeper’s homes, fuel house, and blacksmith shop are still intact, like the place just paused for a moment and let time pass around it. But the real signature is the light. The third-order Fresnel lens, built by Chance Brothers of England, weighs 6,800 pounds and contains 90 lead glass prisms. It rotates once every 40 seconds, casting a white flash every 10 seconds—a navigational pattern known as Fl W 10s. That rhythmic pulse reaches 22 nautical miles out to sea, helping mariners identify the light and chart their course. It’s still operational, thanks to a 1999 restoration by Coast Guard Auxiliary Flotilla 87. The lighthouse even had its Hollywood moment in “The Majestic” (2001) with Jim Carrey, playing the role of a moody coastal backdrop in the fictional town of Lawson. It didn’t need a speaking part—it just stood there, dramatic and timeless. On this walk, I saw Northern Harriers gliding low over the grass, Western Meadowlarks singing from the scrub, and the usual gulls and cormorants near the surf. No coyotes this time, but the quiet felt intentional. And from the bluff, I’ve watched gray whales migrate south and even spotted blue whales, massive and surreal, gliding offshore like living ships. Point Cabrillo isn’t just a lighthouse—it’s a rhythm, a refuge, and a reminder. One flash every ten seconds, and a thousand stories in between.