Glass Beach: Fort Bragg's Historical Trash Heap

There is probably nothing about Fort Bragg, California more well-known at this moment than Glass Beach, the strand of rocky little beachlets comprising the north end Everybody has heard of it or made a pilgrimage, at least the dedicated beachcombers.

The true sea glass enthusiast knows that there are literally dozens of beaches along the California coast where sea glass can be found, but nowhere is it so concentrated as Glass Beach.

As far as I'm concerned, the agates and fossils that wash up on other beaches, particularly on the northern coast, offer much more spectacular rewards, but for those who want to step on other people's trash with bare feet and feel good about it, Glass Beach is the place.

Up until the dump was closed, I was part of the problem. I clearly remember arriving there in different vehicles, including a classic my grandfather used to drive.

The procedure was to back up the wooden rail installed on the bluff, open the trunk, and start firing bags and bottles into the burning pile of refuse.

It seemed to be windy most of the time--that hasn't changed much.

I used to like to get the cheeseburgers from the Noyo Bowl and carry them down to the bluff in the early 80s. Sometimes I would do a little rockfishing before work. For one or two years I was able to do some abalone diving in the cove as well.

How much things have changed since the days when there was nothing but a dusty wide spot at the end of Elm Street. Today's always-jammed parking lot includes a mural testifying to important epochs of local history.

When we came to the beach on the first day of abalone season several years ago, there was a long line of divers making the walk from the street to the beach, crossing the most popular glass gathering spot without even looking down.

From atop the headland there were dozens of colorful tubes visible on the water--all belonging to people from elsewhere.

The demands on abalone are more intense than the demands made on sea glass, but there is a similarity.

Things are finite, in short supply, and becoming more, rather than less, popular.

I've seen some spectacular finds made at glass beach, but mostly it's ordinary items like those in the photo.

The likeliest place to find something really cool, retro, artistic, or brimming over with narrative information is probably in the heavy deposit of rust left on the southern face of the point where people used to park.

Many an old Ford was pushed over the side there, to slowly melt and meld into a seam of metallic waste studded with a wild variety of items. People crouch before the rusty seam with hammers and chisels to break things out. As I understand the current regulations, that's a misdemeanor offense.

These spark plugs came out of those rusted old heaps, which ultimately rusted in place down to nothing. When the dump was first closed there was quite a tangle of old frames and wheelbases there, mostly locked into the rocks where they were duly smashed, broken, rusted and lost. There's a certain place in the rocks where they just keep appearing.

We used them as sinkers for rockfishing back in the good old days, but these are what's left of old rigs. I looked up some of the serial numbers just for fun.

Glass Beach is an amusing place to hang out for a while. It's somewhat easier to get around if you go there on a low tide.

Almost everyone you meet there will be from out of town.

But once in a while you might meet somebody who remembers tossing crap in the ocean, the stink of burning garbage, the gulls hovering over, and rats scurrying below.

For a really amusing story about tossing garbage into the ocean, try Henry Miller's Big Sur.