VIA Magazine

Eroded lava flows stand out at sunset in the Pacific surf. | Don Frank

Bandon, Ore., is a lovely spot with grand beaches and beautiful vistas. The ocean crashes around ancient, eroded lava flows that stand as giant sentries against the incoming tide.

Like most beaches, dusk is a romantic time on the south coast. For photographers, this is the time to shoot. I rolled into town just as the sky was lighting up with pink, oranges, and reds. At that point, instinct took over; I parked illegally, raced down to the beach, and started shooting like crazy.

The dark silhouettes rising up out of the water were majestic. It’s hard to imagine lava flowing across the state of Oregon only to serve my artistic and journalistic purposes eons later, but I do appreciate it.

Bandon’s bay boardwalk is packed with art and history. Tony’s Crab Shack sits a few feet from the water and serves fantastic fresh seafood in a cozy enclosed patio. (Weeks later I was still craving the fish tacos I had for lunch that day.)

Kids crab off the boardwalk in Bandon, Ore. | Don Frank

The truly ambitious can rent a crab rig to hang over the boardwalk just feet from the restaurant, then bring their catch in for the crew at Tony’s to cook up.

On a glorious sunny morning I spotted three kids crabbing off the boardwalk. I’ve been crabbing many times in my life, but I approached the boys as if I knew nothing, and asked them to explain what they were up to.  Their details were both informational and hilarious. They knew what they were doing, but the opportunity to get their photos taken got them pretty excited and the words didn’t always come out right.

“You only get to keep the boy crabs; the girl crabs don’t taste so good,” one kid told me. “Are we going to be famous? We are already kind of famous around here,” said another as they explained the details of their tasks. They proved they knew what they were doing as the crabs were being hauled in. While measuring the catch to make sure they were large enough to keep, (they weren’t), the youngest said, “For bait, the crabs like fish. I don’t like fish, but I like crabs.”

Ultimately, however, one said (and the others agreed), “We would rather be playing football, but the season is over.”

On the recommendations of some locals, I searched out an art installation called Washed Ashore, from the Artula Institute. It consists of large sculptures built from debris collected from area beaches by volunteers. The artist behind it is Angela Pozzi, who has spent thousands of hours organizing volunteers, collecting plastic, sorting by color and durability, and finally creating large sculptures piece by piece.

The sea creatures and birds that are most effected by the roaming plastic in the oceans become larger than life. Angela speaks with expediency and passion about her project, explaining where the plastics come from and how they wind up on the beach in her hometown. It’s a speech she’s doubtless given thousands of times;  Angela seems determined to connect with as many people as she can, one person at a time.

Bandon is also known as a golf destination. As a golfer, I was excited to land this assignment. I stayed an extra day to get in some golf, but found out along the way that I would not be allowed to take photos on the course. Bandon Dunes Resort has its own photographer and releases images for publication only. As a photographer, I respect this policy, but as a fan I admit to a bit of disappointment.

Still, the golf was fantastic. We were led around the Bandon Trails Course (“the preferred course of the caddies”) by a fantastic caddie, PK Devereaux.  It didn’t take long to see why this small fishing town has become a golf destination. The course had such a natural feel from both ocean and forest that it’s easy to forget that this is a man-made attraction.

After long walks up and down the dune hills, we approached the 18th hole. I had shot 82 to that point, and was looking forward to a post-round celebration of my sub-90 score.

Unfortunately the 10 shots I took on that final hole made for a smooth 92. Oh well, it’s more to look forward to next time.