When I saw the headlines that flames were ravaging Santa Rosa Island, sadness washed over me.
Many of the news stories highlighted the threat to the unique plants and animals inhabiting the island off the coast of Santa Barbara, from plucky, pint-sized foxes to the rarest pine trees in North America.
To me, the loss wasn’t theoretical. I saw these and many other otherworldly species while on a life-changing backpacking trip to the island five years ago, which I chronicled for this newspaper. Looking at the fire map, I could see much of the path I charted was now seared.
That includes my first wilderness campsite near Ford Point, where a several-thousand-pound elephant seal roused me from slumber with its jarring bark. It wasn’t pleasant moving a tent after hiking for 10 hours, but seeing the behemoth (and his mate) in the gauzy morning light made it worth it.
The fire also passed through a grove of critically endangered Torrey pines, which I had hiked up to and gazed down on the island’s crystal blue water. It burned through Water Canyon Campground, where I spent my final night in relative comfort after roughing it in the backcountry. Beyond the sights, the trip brought me closer to my husband, who had transformed into a bona fide outdoorsman during the pandemic.
Crystal clear waters of Santa Rosa Island.
(Lila Seidman / Los Angeles Times)
Now fear clouds the memories: Does the rugged, magical place of my mind’s eye still exist? As The Times’ wildlife and outdoors reporter, I felt immediate concern for the island’s critters and plants. I was a visitor, but this is their home. Would it still be hospitable?
Among the good news is that the fire is now fully contained, after igniting three weeks ago. But before it was vanquished, the blaze chewed through about a third of the island, one of five that comprise Channel Islands National Park. While the cause remains under investigation, the U.S. Coast Guard initially reported a shipwrecked sailor may have sparked the blaze after firing flares for help. Coast Guard images showed the 67-year-old man had carved “SOS” into what looked like charred ground before being rescued by helicopter.
The Channel Islands, an archipelago that includes three additional islands outside the park, are nicknamed the “Galapagos of North America” for the flora and fauna found only there. Fires of such magnitude are rare on Santa Rosa so its inhabitants haven’t evolved with them.
Speaking to fire officials and scientists, the prevailing sentiment is there’s much we don’t know about the fire’s impact and how long recovery will take — or if it will ever even look the same. Starting Friday, specialists will begin assessing where everything stands. Until then, researchers can take educated guesses.
“There will be winners and losers for sure,” said Heather Schneider, director of conservation at the Santa Barbara Botanic Garden, whose work includes studying and protecting rare plants on the island.
Take the Hoffmann’s slender-flowered gilia, a federally endangered wildflower found only on the island and much of it within the area that burned. It’s possible the blaze incinerated the dainty purple-and-white flowers before they could drop seeds this year. But Schneider and her colleagues believe there’s probably a healthy collection of seeds in the soil from previous years that hasn’t germinated yet that could help it recover when conditions are right.
Some glimmers of hope have emerged from what we do know. It’s believed the island’s Torrey pines are largely intact and much of the campground survived. The pinnipeds that crashed my first night on the island were probably not affected much. Certain areas I visited, like the historic South Point Light Station, were spared.
Greg Pauly, curator of herpetology for the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County, who has researched the island’s reptiles and amphibians for 14 years, highlighted that the web of life is interconnected — and certain effects may play out over time.
“It’s sort of a one-two punch,” he said. “You’ve got to survive the fire, and then you’ve got to be able to figure out how to make a living in a landscape that looks very different than it did a week ago.”
In many parts of the island, the soil’s high clay content causes deep fractures to form as it dries. He expects many animals, like the gopher snake, made it through the fire by hunkering down in the cracks.
When the snake emerges, it should find enough mice to chow down on. But a lack of seeds and other food for mice might mean that prey dwindles over time.
He worries about other ripple effects, too.
Non-native grasses that have taken hold “create a carpet of highly flammable material for much of the year,” he said. In the aftermath of fire, such grasses often spring up quickly and shade out native plants. He expects the acreage to increase.
That’s bad news for the majority of wildlife on the island that relies on native habitat, like woody shrubs.
Yet, as Pauly put it, the island is no stranger to flux. Just within the past two centuries, cattle and sheep brought in for ranching — and then later elk and deer for hunting — ate up the island’s shrubs, he said. Since 2011, he added, the island’s been free of these non-native grazers and native vegetation has rebounded.
He expects even more change. Scientists are clocking an increase in temperature and slight decrease in fog. He also predicts fires will become more common as more people visit.
Emanuel Röhss, the author’s husband, sits amid fog during a backpacking trip to the island five years ago.
(Lila Seidman / Los Angeles Times)
While harrowing, I also found a strange comfort in Pauly’s words. Change is inevitable, whether bad or good. My memories of the island are of a snapshot in time. I went during the height of the pandemic, when my boatmates were masked and socially distanced. All the wonder I experienced notwithstanding, I wouldn’t want that aspect of the journey to carry on.
And change doesn’t need to be taken lying down. Some are already gearing up to get the island back on track.
The Santa Barbara Botanic Garden has seeds for all of the rare plants in the burn area, a sort of fail safe if they need help recovering. Additionally, just this March, it opened a conservation grove of Torrey pines grown from seeds collected on Santa Rosa. The Channel Islands National Park Foundation is on hand to raise money for the park.
“It’s going to be an all hands on deck situation to understand, assess and plan the recovery,” the garden’s Schneider said.
If I go back to Santa Rosa, I hope to embrace it as it is: transformed.
