June 12 - 22

I have to say, for me, the Monterey Bay Area is as much my home as Indiana and New Orleans, with about 25 years scattered between each of them. A lot has changed in each of these places, some good, some not-so-good. But the undeniable joy will always be found in the familiar land, (and seascapes), and in the connection to family and friends.

With that being said I shall continue on with my saga.

The overnight temperatures here seemed worse than up north. It was a cold and restless night, to say the least. Several times I would climb back into the driver’s seat and turn on the engine to warm myself up.

Rising early, I made my way across the road to a familiar restaurant and ordered breakfast. It was a quiet repast and I found myself thinking about the next eleven days, especially regarding the idea of camping out versus finding cheap motels. I knew I needed to make myself as comfortable as possible and rekindle my energy during my stay in this coastal refuge.

Back behind the wheel, I drove into my beloved Santa Cruz. Although this sleepy village had been significantly impacted by the Silicon Valley crowd over the past thirty or so years, it was still my old stomping grounds. I had lived here, worked here, played music on street corners, in coffee houses, and pubs, formed the Phantom Band, and shared many good times with family and friends in this once-quaint fishing village.

Despite the chilly start, I was warm now and refreshed, as if immersed in some pool of healing water. I happily made my way through the familiar streets of Santa Cruz. After a phone call announcing my arrival, I met up with my older brother, Patrick, at a coffeehouse in nearby Aptos. In years gone by, this establishment, The Ugly Mug, was one of several open mic venues we had frequented.

The two of us visited over coffee and orange juice. He told me that he had been spending much of his time at his significant Other’s house. Her name was Hanna and we had first met some years ago when the two of them visited me in New Orleans.

As it turned out, Pat informed me that there was a spare room at Hanna’s place and I would be able to use it for the entirety of my time in town. What a huge relief!

Hanna and brother Patrick

Shortly thereafter, I followed him to the house and after moving my gear into the small room, laid down and slept for a good part of the day.

Because this is a travelog, I will be less focused on the mundane and more on the places and activities I busied myself with while I was there. The next ten days would be filled with fun and more special memories to cherish.

Friday the 13th was not to be a fearful day of superstition. Instead, I soaked up the local sea side scenery. Parking in a small turnout parking lot, I watched the sun-worshipers descend and ascend a steep egress to an East Cliff beach. Still feeling a bit frail, I decided that the magnificent view of the Monterey Bay from my perch would suffice. I set up there for several hours, even preparing a simple lunch with the aid of my Coleman stove.

An East Cliff beach, Santa Cruz

Later that same day I met up with my dear friend, Coral. She and Richard, whom I would connect with later in my visit, were the first two members of the Phantom Band. Not only is she an exceptional keyboard player but her voice added icing to the cake. We met in the late 1990’s and have been kindred spirits ever since. I moved to New Orleans in 2004 and we have maintained our long-distance relationship to this day. I have only been able to visit the Santa Cruz area two or three times since, but we always reconnect and spend time together whenever I am in town.

Coral knows all the ins and outs of the local art and music scene. In fact, we visited an art exhibit and caught a local poetry reading soon after my arrival.

The next day turned out to be the NO KINGS DAY event. Santa Cruz is a well-known bastion of liberalism and later reports stated that the crowd there swelled to around 5,000 people. I made my way through the throngs of sign waving protesters, still leaning on my cane for support. Despite the critical speeches, it was a well-behaved group and no incidents occurred.

Later I would meet up with Coral again for brunch at Café Brazil. We recognized a local celebrity sitting at a nearby table. His stage name is Tom Noddy and he is also known as the Bubble Man. For years he was a feature on the streets of Santa Cruz. Unfortunately, he, like myself and many other street artists, was targeted by a less-than-friendly City Council that jammed through a slew of ordinances to appease some corporate types who had pushed in to take over many local shops after the destruction caused by the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake. As a result, the colorful Santa Cruz nightlife would be targeted by local police who were looking to run off the so-called riff-raff.

A few years into the melee, Tom helped organize a two-day indoor music and entertainment event. With the proceeds going to the purchase of video cameras and other support for the remaining street performers. I had started a group myself, S.A.F.E., the Society for Artistic Freedom and Expression. We rallied around street fork who were being frequently harassed and brought up on frivolous charges. But, unfortunately, the money from the folks in Silicon Valley would ultimately change the very nature of the once hippy-friendly city.

As he was leaving, I rose and offered my hand. Although it had been many years, he recognized me and we exchanged simple pleasantries. That made my day even better. I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening hanging out with Coral. We eventually found ourselves jamming some old Beatle tunes at her apartment before I returned to Hanna’s place, watched tv and retired for the day.

The next day was a lazy day. I spent some time wandering around Pacific Garden Mall, the center of the street scene back in the day. I met up, once more, with Coral and we decided to drive up Highway 9 through Felton and on to Ben Lomond.

Henflings, another familiar haunt from years gone by, was our destination. It was a little pub that u featured live, local music with an open-mic night once a week. We were scoping out the place and verifying the date of the open mic night. It would start around 7 p.m. the next evening. We hung out for a night of local bands doing their thing.

The following day, I practiced a half dozen songs with brother Pat who also performed with Richard, Coral, and I in the early days of the Phantom Band. Pat’s own band, Final DaZe is a retro cover band. We picked songs from both of our playlists as we have done before in my California visits.

That evening, Pat, Coral and I retraced our Highway 9 route through the beautiful redwoods of the Santa Cruz Mountains. Getting to Henflings at 7 p.m. I was hoping for some advertised bar-b-que but the pop-up chef was putting things away as we arrived.

Later we performed four songs with Coral harmonizing and a very positive response from the audience. Unfortunately, I would not be around for a return engagement.

The morning of the next day, Pat and I traveled over the coastal range to nearby San Jose. We had organized a breakfast with one of my aunts, Jeannie, her daughter Chrissy and Chrissy’s son, Casey. It had been over ten years since I had seen them and was a wonderful reunion. We enjoyed our breakfast and caught up on our lives. I related my time with Dani, Jeannie’s oldest and my cross-country adventures. Was sorry I couldn’t coordinate a bigger reunion with other relatives while I was there. I have resolved to try harder next time.

Breakfast at Bob's Diner: Dinner out with (left to right):

(left to right) - me, Aunt Jeanie, nephew Jeremy, me and Pat (Hana took photo)

Pat, Casey, and Chrissy

As the day went on, my quest for a bar-b-que dinner took me to Mission Bar-B-Que. My nephew, Jeremey, Pat’s second oldest son, Pat and Hanna joined me. It was a beautiful evening with but one small drawback.

Upon leaving, my van would not start! I had made it this far with no real issues. Thanks to my brother, having come in another vehicle, we jump started the van and made our way back to Hanna’s place.

I spent the early part of Wednesday the 18th getting a new battery and doing an oil change and systems check. Once the battery was replaced nothing popped up during the checkup. Again, I wandered around the Pacific Garden Mall.

That evening, at the suggestion of Hanna, an actress and director of various local stage plays herself, we went to a small venue, next to the 11th Hour café to see a play some of her friends were putting on. Of course, in this bastion of liberalism it would have an anti-Fascist theme. I especially enjoyed the duo playing familiar protest songs from the sixties, including Woody Guthrie’s famous, “This Land” during scene changes. Pat, Hanna, and Coral shared the experience.

On a hazy Thursday morning, Coral and I set off for a day in Monterey, at the southern lip of the Monterey Bay. Traffic was backed up somewhat as we neared this popular tourist city. We parked near the yacht harbor, experiencing a noticeable wind and mostly cloudy skies. As in all things travel related, you can never predict the future. One of the things I wanted to do was to go out on a boat, whale watching. As fate would have it, there was a small boats advisory for the next three days, which effectively shut down that notion.

There were, however, many things to occupy us in this former Steinbeck romanticized fishing community. We turned our attention to the sights of the yacht harbor and various shops located on the municipal wharf. Both of us were hungry by now, mid day, and we made our way to the restaurant at the end of the wharf, the Rockfish Harbor Grill. After a pleasant seafood meal, we made our way to Cannery Row and the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Soaking up a world of underwater delights we stayed until closing, then visited some nearby shops for souvenirs.

Not wanting to call it a day we took to the sea-side footpaths to the south of the city to enjoy the seals, seagulls and other wildlife and flora in a sunset walk. Not having the energy that Coral had, I found a bench overlooking the ocean while she walked another mile or so beyond that point. Together we drank in the sunset, then headed back north to Santa Cruz.

with Coral Brune Monterey Bay Yacht Harbor

Monterey Municipal Wharf Monterey Bay Aquarium

Monterey Bay Aquarium Pacific coast, Monterey

Pacific coast, Monterey

I took the next day a good deal slower. It was Friday and I knew I would only be able to stay in my beloved Santa Cruz for the next three days. Overall, I was feeling a lot stronger than the day I had arrived. The sun and the sand, walking in the fresh ocean air, and the relaxed pace for much of the stay had given me a chance to recover from the unexpected stress on heart and lungs.

I spent this day mostly on my own. I went to my favorite beach adjacent to the Santa Cruz Yacht Harbor. The day was pleasantly sunny and warm and I set off to walk the beach from end to end as I had done so many times in years gone by. It was about a one-mile trek and I felt good at the end of it. My strength was certainly returning.

After the leisurely stroll, taking in the various beach combers, sun bathers, swimmers, and their water splashing pets, I ordered a smoothie and sat on the beach for the next three or so hours. I have always known this place to have healing powers and I would spend the day soaking them up.

Lighthouse Santa Cruz yacht harbor beach

Later that evening I would join Pat and Hanna for dinner at a local restaurant. Again, we talked about past, present, and future hopes and dreams. Returning to Hanna’s place afterwards, we continued to watch a tv series that my brother had introduced me to upon my arrival.

Another pleasant night’s sleep and I was off to pick up Coral once again to go to yet another local beach called Rio Del Mar. I had planned, but obviously not well enough, to acquire a local one-day fishing license in order to surf fish here as I had done when my cousin lived in a nearby cottage back in the late 1990’s.

Unfortunately, the local convenience store that used to offer them and bait, no longer was providing the service. Instead, the two of us grabbed a bite to eat at a local bistro and then walked about a mile down the coast, sighting at least one dolphin playing in the distant waves. With a large umbrella I had brought along on the trip, we threw down a beach blanket and lulled in the sun for a good part of the afternoon.

Rio Del Mar beach

There had been one other place I wanted to get to on this trip. The Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk was an attraction that drew people from all over the world. I should have known better, as it was a Friday and finding a place to park with easy access would not present itself. The Boardwalk and adjacent wharf, with some excellent restaurants, would prove to be a failed quest.

Reluctantly we drove to a spot on the nearby West Cliff Drive and parked, to take in the coastal scenery, our historic lighthouse and Steamer Lane, a destination for surfers young and old.

Did I mention that it was impossible to predict what would be happening at any point on my trip? Well, as it turned out, the water in this usually tumultuous inlet was almost as smooth as glass. Only a handful of surfers paddled around in the tranquil surf. None-the-less, it was a picturesque evening.

West Cliff lighthouse, Sana Cruz (stock photo)

Sunday the 22nd would be a day of fond farewells. In the morning, I again went up to the West Cliff area to meet with my dear friend Richard. I had not seen him since my last visit before the Covid 19 pandemic. We enjoyed a morning cup of coffee and spent a couple of hours catching up on our lives. I gifted him a small painting and reluctantly bid him adieu.

From there I went to the Pacific Coffee Roasting Company looking for my nephew once more. It turned out that this was one of his days off. My brother and Hanna would later meet up with me at his house. As this was one of my last opportunities to share artwork, I gave paintings to everyone at the gathering. In this respect, I was glad that I had been able to share my work with my family and friends.

Later, I would also see Coral a final time and offered her a piece of art as well. It was a bittersweet day. Although I had new adventures awaiting me, leaving friends and family behind is always a difficult thing. I could not know when or if I would ever see any of them again. I did, however, promise to come back and see everyone when I got the chance...

(C)2025 Michael S. True - Published by TruEnergy Enterprises