The Oregon Coast

Oregon Coast Aquarium, Newport waterfront, and Stonefield Beach

- 24 April 2005 -

This is a little imitation creek at the Oregon Coast Aquarium in Newport. 

There's a sign nearby that says "Stream is not coin-operated" :b

Kickadee looking at jellyfish.

Herman, Gladys, Marge, Rufus, Burt, Lurleen, Herbert, Louise, and Bob -- jellyfish at the Oregon Coast Aquarium. 

Salmon -- mighty, mighty little salmon. 

Yansa and salmon.

Salmon, Yansa. Yansa, Salmon. Oprah, Uma. Uma, Oprah. 


While all the other birds down below have beak-waving drama, the puffins watch, impassively. 

No plovers for you. Come back, one year. 

 This picture of fake rock was accidentally taken while Miss Kick and I were waiting for people to feed the sea otters at the Oregon Coast Aquarium.

 Otter's Voyage!

(Fans of Nordic history -- or NASA's World Wind application -- will be rolling their eyes just now.)

 More ottery cuteness.

At the Oregon Coast Aquarium, near the entrance to the "Passage Of The Deep" exhibit (where you get to walk through a clear underwater tunnel and see sharks and fish on all sides of you).

A bayfront lot in Newport's Old Town.

The docks next to Undersea Gardens in Newport's Old Town are noisy -- because of Undersea Garden's obnoxious speaker blaring New Age music and horribly repetitive announcements! You can also hear sea lions, which Miss Kick and I call "aqua-puppies" because they look and sound something like large aquatic dogs with flippers.

Mopin' on the docks.

Yaquina Bay and its associated bridge.

More of Yaquina Bay, and Mr. Boat, which is heading seaward.

Aqua-puppy drama.

It's pretty much like this most of the time at the sea lion docks: Silence, then somebody tries to climb up on one of the docks, then it's OORT OORT OORT OORT OORT OORT OORT OORT for a long while, and then one of the other sea lions pushes the offending sea lion off the dock and into the water. Then it gets silent for a while, and then the scenario is repeated (sometimes with the offending sea lion gaining a place on the dock).  

The bay of Yaquinaness. 

At low tide, there's a rocky shoreline under this restaurant where the sea lions gather and make their characteristic "oort" sound over and over and over again. Magnified, the sound travels all over this area. 

The tide is higher in this picture, though.

The bay which we call Yaquina.

The lions which we call Sea.

The front which we call Bay.

The boat which we call... um... Mr. Boat, Part Deux!

Stonefield Beach is a bit south of Bob Creek Wayside along US 101. Like Bob Creek Wayside, it's in Lane County -- the same one as Eugene, which is definitely not a coastal town. Lane County is big.

"Behold, a field of stones, along the beach," the first Europeans said. "Let us call it something apropos." 

Hence, "Stonefield Beach."

Or something.

Color and texture at Stonefield Beach.

Light and shape at Stonefield Beach.

All sorts of artsy stuff at Stonefield Beach!

Hills and bridges at Stonefield Beach.

The common factor here, of course, is the Stonefield Beachness of the photographs.


The terrain at Stonefield Beach was a bit more difficult to navigate than that at Bob Creek. The rocks were more slanted and smooth, and my el cheapo sport-sandals liked to just go slidin' right down.

Texture at Stonefield Beach.

The tide! At Stonefield Beach! Yes! Again!

You know the drill! AT STONEFIELD BEACH!

A li'l stream. 

(At Stonefield Beach!!!!!)

Looking down the little stream.

Coastal streams are fun. It's a lot more fun to play with the course of a little stream than it is to build a sand-castle. At least I think so. 

Perhaps I missed my calling in life, and I should join the Corps of Engineers. 

Looking down the little stream.

Little coastal streams running across beaches are fun. It's a lot more fun to play with the course of a little stream than it is to build a sand-castle. At least I think so. 

Perhaps I missed my calling in life, and I should join the Corps of Engineers. 


The sun, tending toward its set. 

Birdie! And sunset. AT STONEFIELD BEACH 

Meanwhile, behind us, the hills watch impassively.

(Or, rather, they just sort of sit there, covered in pointy green trees.)

I have no words, other than the one that suits this scene best: "Scenery!"

Sunset over a larger stream. 

In fact, this is the stream which the last photograph's bridge hath crossed.

It might even be Bob Creek. I don't know. Perhaps we are on the very verge of the Bob Creek Wayside here, and we don't even know it. o.O

The northern bank of this possibly-Bobbish stream.

A nearby home, angular in construction, beneath its protective hill.

The mighty stream of justice.

The sun slowly sinks beneath the water.

Goodbye, Stonefield Beach.

Some text written in mid-2005; some text written 29 December 2005.
Last updated 20 January 2006.