Hiking Haskell’s: No day at the beach

BY CHERI RAE
Beach-goers always wondered how Bacara Resort and Spa, a multi-million-dollar development that’s advertised across the nation and around the world would impact Haskell’s—for generations, a locals-only beach and hidden surf spot.

Now we know.
“It sure seems like they don’t want us here,” observed the mom playing with her little girl at the rocky shoreline of Haskell’s Beach. We were standing near the beachside edge of the Sandpiper Golf Course observing a scene never depicted in glossy national ads or evocative websites that lure the luxury-minded to enjoy the sumptuous surroundings of Bacara Resort.
Presumably, upscale guests never set foot close to the beach; if they did walk down-coast they would encounter what the regular folk see: a formerly fancy pavilion that could be a snack bar deluxe, the bases of its lofty columns now crumbling and falling into disrepair. Restrooms are curiously sited so the men’s urinals are visible from the women’s room sinks, and the surveillance cameras are located to track the comings and goings of every visitor.
Down on the sand, there’s the triple set of ominously rusted-out drainpipes extending fifteen feet from the hillside, hanging four feet above the ground not far from what was once a parking area—and is now designated fire lane only.
Getting to the beach, though, is no simple matter. To the casual observer driving up to the intersection of Hollister Boulevard and Bacara, it appears there is no public beach access whatsoever. Curiously missing is even one single sign with the barefoot-and-wave logo of the California Coastal Commission indicating beach access, so common at thousands of other locations along the California coast. Instead, this looks simply like the entrance to a swank resort.
Bacara is taking a page out of the playbook so commonly used by the owners of luxury coastal hideaways across the country: make it as difficult as possible for the public to find the way to the beach. Along the North Shore of Oahu, for example, the Turtle Bay development displays a tiny, earth-toned sign barely noticeable from the road. There, visitors are required to sign in and obtain a parking permit. At least Bacara hasn’t resorted to that measure. Yet.
My plein-air painting friends have recently complained that it’s now much more difficult for them to haul their easels and paint boxes from the parking area to the shore.
And, in fact, the formerly expansive dirt parking area perched close to shore has been downsized and relocated a considerable distance inland, near a maintenance building and tennis complex. It’s one of the least welcoming public beaches in the state.
It doesn’t have to be an adversarial relationship between a resort and the beach-going public. Overlooking—some would say dominating—the bluffs above Salt Creek Beach located between South Laguna and Dana Point in Orange County, is the luxury Ritz-Carlton Hotel. At this location, hotel guests, surfers, locals, and families from all backgrounds are welcome; abundant signage invites all to enjoy the blufftop trails, the seaside facilities, the sand and the surf.
In recent weeks it’s been revealed that Bacara intends to cut the parking lot hours and restrict the amount and location of the public parking lot even more for its plans for condominium development. The beach-going public will long remember this shabby treatment—something the resort owners would do well to keep in mind as they move forward with their expansion plans.

E-mail Cheri Rae at cheri@santabarbarafree.com