CHANNEL ISLANDS' SANTA CRUZ GAINS POPULARITY WITH CAMPERS AND KAYAKERS AS PARK SERVICE SALVES ITS SCARS ISLAND ON THE REBOUND.

Byline: Eric Noland Travel Editor

CHANNEL ISLANDS NATIONAL PARK - Advocates of these islands just off the coast of Ventura County say that a visit to them is like stepping back 200 years into California's past - to a bucolic setting of gently rolling hills dotted with oaks, and little evidence of man.

Well, at the east end of the chain's largest island, Santa Cruz, reality doesn't quite match the rhapsody. Not yet, anyway.

The National Park Service wasn't able to establish a stewardship toehold here until three years ago, and the land is still deep in rehab, straining to recover from 160 years of the ravages of sheep grazing and pig farming and the cultivation of crops ranging from alfalfa to wine grapes.

Today, the sheep and horses have been removed, the various implements of farm equipment left idle to rust. But thousands of feral pigs remain, and the land has a long way to go to return to the subtle beauty of the original landscape - a crucible for oaks, ironwood, coastal sage, natural grasses, coyote bush; a welcoming habitat for island fox and scrub jay.

Visitors are confronted with this reality about the time the Island Packers charter boats, which run regularly to the island from Ventura Harbor, ease into Scorpion Anchorage. You see dramatic rock formations protruding from the sapphire waters of the quiet cove, yes, but as your gaze ventures inland, you survey a moonscape.

The hillsides appear denuded, left to grasses and weeds and thistles, all a parched blond after a dry summer. Here and there, it's clear that great chunks of hillside have succumbed to erosion.

``It's all because of the way the lands were managed,'' says head ranger Jack Fitzgerald. ``When we first came in here (in February 1997), the soil was literally blowing away on a windy day. The process is going on, and it's a long process. We'll intervene as necessary to make sure native plants and species are restored.''

Since the park service took control of the land - the U.S. government literally requiring an act of Congress to seize the island's eastern 10 percent in a protracted compensation dispute with a private owner - the number of visitors has more than doubled, from 15,000 in 1996 to 35,000 last year. There is no charge to enter the national park, and the fee for the 40-site campground is only $2.60 per night (to cover the reservation costs).

Some visitors may be curious about the restoration of the ecosystem, but most seem drawn to the island - which is four times the size of Manhattan - solely for the purposes of achieving an urban disconnect. There are 20 miles of ocean channel between here and the nearest freeway, streetlight or drive-up window.

Backpackers, hikers, kayakers and bird-watchers make their way to Santa Cruz precisely because they want to revel in nature for awhile. There is no potable water here; you have to carry in every drop of your own supply. There is no store to sell supplies. There are no paved roads, no cars (only a park service truck or two), no motor homes with generators. No evidence of air traffic overhead.

Why, there aren't even any trash cans on the island, said park ranger Derek Lohuis as he met our boat at the pier one morning in September. ``Everything you bring onto the island you'll be expected to take off the island,'' he said.

We were asked to form a kind of bucket brigade to off-load all the gear, and it quickly became evident that not everyone was inclined to rough it for a couple of days. Here came an enormous ice chest on wheels. Then a hibachi barbecue unit, followed closely by a 50-pound bag of briquets. Peeking out of one duffle bag was an electronic device that looked suspiciously like a TV.

And the procession was endless. It's a good bet that explorer Juan Cabrillo didn't carry this volume of provisions on his little Spanish ship when he happened upon these islands in 1542.

Our group of three seemed to be the only one that packed light enough to carry everything on our backs, so we found the upper campground deserted once we'd walked the half-mile into Scorpion Canyon from the cove. It's not long on amenities - picnic tables, pit toilets ... that's about it. But it's in a shady grove of mature eucalyptus trees, and we found a soft forest bed for pitching tents.

The subtle appeal of overnighting here would be revealed over the course of the visit. In the afternoon, a breeze wafted down from the island hills and ventilated the canyon. One morning, a covey of about a dozen quail skittered past our campsite (No. 38, a desirable one at the extreme edge of the grove). The views of the deserted hills and mountain ridge inland were pleasant and calming.

But it was at night that the serenity really enveloped us. About the only light source was the three-quarter moon overhead, and many of the campers seemed to gravitate back to the cove after finishing their twilight dinners.

Although we'd been informed before embarking that only Duraflame-type logs are permitted in the fire rings down by the beach (no fires are allowed in the campground, where wildfire danger is extreme), it was our good fortune that park service maintenance crews had been trimming back and chopping up limbs of the non-native eucalyptus. Lohuis had told us we could burn whatever we collected, and we gathered quite a bundle.

A stiff offshore breeze deterred the fire-building, but after a while we had a lively blaze. And almost immediately we had company, as about a half-dozen other overnight visitors were drawn to it like moths. ``Is this bonfire for the benefit of everyone?'' asked the first to arrive, Cynthia (no last names needed on Santa Cruz).

Over the next couple of hours, the little group swapped stories, jokes, tales of daytime adventures - and voiced profound appreciation for the tranquillity that awaits anyone who seeks out this island. All the while, the ocean lapped quietly onto the pebbly beach of the cove and the moon shone down from the crest of a towering hill like a headlight. Somehow, three cigars and a bottle of 12-year-old single-malt Scotch mysteriously appeared.

Sid, between sips, enthused about his kayak excursion into deserted coves and sea caves that day.

``The sea lions are as friendly as dogs,'' he said. ``They bark at you from the shore when you paddle up; then they dive into the water and swim right up to you, poking their noses out of the water. When a big bull dove in, I was nervous at first because I didn't know if he was friendly, but I guess they're just curious.''

Kayaking is one of the most popular forms of recreation for island visitors - novices should stick to guided excursions because of the unpredictability of the ocean - but our objective was to explore the interior on foot.

(Be sure to pick up a topographical map of the region, available free at the park service information board at the foot of the pier.)

One hike, popular with day-trippers because it is relatively short (four miles round trip from the cove), follows a scenic route to picturesque Potato Harbor. The trail climbs a jeep road from the campground, then flattens out along the coastal bluffs. You'll find a series of sensational overlooks, where you can take in the aquamarine waters of the craggy shore contrasted against the deep blues of the Santa Barbara Channel.

You're likely to hear the kennel-like barking of sea lions on the rocks below. Don't venture too close to the edge of the escarpment, though, as the cliffs are unstable and the dropoff abrupt. On most days, you'll probably be able to make out the bumps of the Santa Ynez Mountains on the distant mainland.

As is the case throughout eastern Santa Cruz, the maintained trail is not a trail at all - just a wide, dusty, uninspiring service road left over from the island's ranching days. But the landscape is also crisscrossed with numerous sheep trails, some of them no more than a few inches wide, and it's fun to strike out over one of these for the sake of variety.

We found one along the bluffs on our return to camp and were treated to many more views of the coast below. Later, we also wandered deep into Scorpion Canyon, where we stepped over chunks of the island's ancient volcanic history and white, chalklike hunks of Monterey shale that had tumbled down from hillsides weakened by sheep grazing.

One morning, we decided to head to Smugglers Cove, which is seven miles round trip if you follow the marked, maintained trail/road that climbs out of Scorpion Anchorage. We, of course, didn't, preferring to bushwhack a ``back way'' out of the campground, following a stream bed, a ranch road and various game trails.

We probably got more than we bargained for when we found Smugglers Canyon on the map and decided to traverse it to the sea. In its cleft, we encountered numerous sheep bones bleached in the sun. Many of the domesticated animals, first brought to the island when it was a Spanish rancho in the early 1800s, had slipped fences and lived wildly. In recent years, the east end of Santa Cruz was operated as a hunting camp, and many of the carcasses obviously tumbled into this ravine.

This off-trail trek provided quite an adventure, but it probably isn't advisable for any but the most experienced hikers - and shouldn't be undertaken at all when there's the slightest threat of flash floods. It required us to pick our way down a series of dry waterfalls, including one vertical drop of about 20 feet.

Farther along the route, when we were so close to the ocean we could smell it, we came to another dry waterfall, this one dropping a precipitous 45 feet. This forced us to climb out of the canyon and skirt its rim on narrow sheep trails that cling to a steep, grassy slope. (I have no desire to take that hike again.)

The reward was all-but-deserted Smugglers Cove, where another of the Channel Islands, Anacapa, protrudes from the deep-blue waters just offshore.

This hike - seven miles round trip on the marked trail, perhaps nine miles if you're foolhardy enough to seek less conventional routes - is advised only for overnight campers, not for day-trippers. As it was, we couldn't afford to linger at the cove, but had to eat a hasty lunch and return over some steep, hilly knobs for fear of missing the charter boat home.

The sun was our chief opponent during this stretch. Until the landscape recovers, don't count on finding much shade while hiking Santa Cruz's east end - a hat, sunscreen and sunglasses are essential. But at least the close proximity of the ocean and its breezes keeps the temperatures from getting oppressive.

Upon returning to Scorpion Anchorage after the sweaty exertion of an overland trek, you'll be thankful if you remembered to slip a bathing suit into your pack. After five hours on a scruffy trail, the plunge into the sparkling-clear waters of the cove was nothing short of divine.

Our boat was moored offshore - inexplicably delaying our scheduled loading and departure times by a half-hour each (and making us realize we'd hurried back from Smugglers Cove unnecessarily).

When its diesel motor finally stirred to life, the sound was almost startling.

Hadn't encountered the intrusion of an internal-combustion engine for two solid days.

IF YOU GO

GETTING THERE: Island Packers, the national park concessionaire for Channel Islands, makes runs to the eastern end of Santa Cruz Island every day but Monday and Wednesday in the fall. During the winter, it runs only Friday through Tuesday. Round-trip fares are $42 for day trips, $54 for overnight stays. Information: [phone] or [phone]; www.islandpackers.com. The ocean is calmest at this time of year, but we still experienced swells that caused the boat to pitch, occasionally sending an invigorating spray splashing over the prow. Dress warmly for this ride. The company plans on updating its fleet with a speedier catamaran in March. In the meantime, plan to poke along at about 11 knots, which means a trip of nearly two hours to cross 20 miles of channel. Return departures can be delayed as much as a half-hour - with vague explanations given - so be wary of making firm evening plans at home.

CAMPING: Enjoy the low camping fee - $2.60 per night - while you can. As the park service upgrades the 40-site campground and the facilities at Scorpion Canyon, it's likely to go up. Reservations: [phone]. Kayakers seem to gravitate to the lower campground (shorter walk to the cove), hikers to the more scenic and secluded upper campground.

HEALTH ADVISORY: Approximately 70 percent of the deer mice on Santa Cruz Island are infected with hantavirus, a flulike disease than can be fatal. Avoid them. Stay out of any old ranching sheds that might contain their droppings. And keep them out of your food by storing it in plastic containers with tight-fitting lids. Hang bags of garbage from tree limbs.

KAYAKING: Island Packers (phone numbers and Web site above) can provide information on kayak rentals and guided excursions and will also transport privately owned kayaks.

INFORMATION: The Channel Islands National Park Visitors Center is located at 1901 Spinnaker Drive, Ventura. Phone: [phone]. Web: www.nps.gov/chis. General visitor information for Ventura County can be obtained at [phone].

CAPTION(S):

7 photos, box, map

Photo:

(1 -- 2 -- color) Santa Cruz Island's Scorpion Anchorage is a quiet refuge for boaters, kayakers and swimmers. Top, a sailboat rocks at anchor offshore.Michael Owen Baker/Staff Photographer

(3 -- 4 -- color) A campfire on the beach proves to be an inviting gathering spot for campers at the eastern end of Santa Cruz Island. A hike along the Potato Harbor Overlook Trail, right, provides a sense of the islands wide-open spaces- but also of the havoc wreaked on the terrain by decades of sheep ranching.

(5 -- 6) The ``back way'' hike from Scorpion Canyon to Smugglers Cove, above, includes remnants of Santa Cruz Island's past, like an abandoned oil well. Hikers to the eastern end of Santa Cruz Island, left, are assured of wide-open terrain, with no paved roads or businesses.

(7) Scorpion Anchorage on Santa Cruz Island offers visitors a quiet cove framed by towering coastal hills and craggy offshore rock outcroppings.

Eric Noland/Travel Editor

MAP: Santa Cruz Island

Bradford Mar/Staff Artist

Box: If You Go (see text)