Today we said goodbye to Crescent City, a place we thought to pass through and ended up staying for a while. If you only you drive through Crescent City on 101, you see a depressed town who’s main industries have moved on. But, if you venture down the side roads off 101 you find history, redwoods, beaches, bluffs, rocky overlooks, 2 amazing lighthouses, and seals and sea lions, oh my. We thoroughly enjoyed our time and recommend this gem to everyone.
Tidbit: Visit the previous posts for more on our adventures around Crescent city.
Battery Point Lighthouse in Crescent City, was first lit December 10, 1856. A beautiful Cape Cod style lighthouse, it has provided safe passage in and out of the Crescent City harbor for over 150 years and is uniquely placed on a point that is only accessible at low tide.
Tidbit: In 1879 a large wave hit the kitchen shed side of the lighthouse toppling the chimney, and knocking the kitchen stove over which started a fire. The family quickly started pulling water out of the cistern to put out the fire when a second wave crashed ashore, swished down the remnants of the toppled chimney and extinguished the fire!
While in Whittier, Alaska we learned about the devastating 1964 earthquake that destroyed the town. Traveling south along the coast, we have been constantly aware of tsunami dangers via placards, handouts, signs, and warning sirens blasting the weekly test of the tsunami warning system. Today, after arriving in Crescent City, California, we discover that Crescent City is also known as Tsunami City USA. It got the name after having recorded 31 tsunami waves since 1933.
5 short hours after the 1964 earthquake in Alaska, a huge tsunami hit Crescent City in 4 waves. The first 3 resulted in minor flooding, giving most a chance to evacuate. The 4th wave hit shortly after killing 11, flattening 29 city blocks, and destroying over 290 homes & buildings.
Offshore from Crescent City, the Battery Point Lighthouse Keepers, Peggy & Roxey Coons, tells it : “The water withdrew as if someone had pulled the plug. It receded a distance of three-quarters of a mile from the shore. We were looking down, as though from a high mountain, into a black abyss. It was a mystic labyrinth of caves, canyons, basins, and pits, undreamed of in the wildest of fantasies. The basin was sucked dry. At Citizen’s Dock, the large lumber barge was sucked down to the ocean bottom. In the distance, a black wall of water was rapidly building up, evidenced by a flash of white as the edge of the boiling and seething seawater reflected the moonlight. The Coast Guard cutter and small crafts, that had been riding the waves a safe two- miles offshore, seemed to be riding high above the ‘wall’ of seawater. Then the mammoth wall of seawater came barreling towards us. It was a terrifying mass, stretching up from the ocean floor and looking much higher than the island. When the tsunami assaulted the shore, it was like a violent explosion. A thunderous roar mingled with all the confusion. Everywhere we looked, buildings, cars, lumber, and boats shifted around like crazy. The whole beachfront moved, changing before our very eyes.”