SANTA BARBARA — This seaside city is home to the Calamity Jane of wharves. Built in 1872, Stearns Wharf has recovered from three fires and four killer storms, has been held hostage by anti-oil protesters and has twice become obsolete.
But Santa Barbara loves its wharf and so do visitors. Nothing, not even the November 1998 fire that damaged one-third of the wharf and destroyed three businesses, could completely shut it down.
Just in time for summer, Stearns Wharf--well, most of it--is open again. Eighteen months after the fire, 420 feet of decking that faces the sea at the far end of the wooden structure has been rebuilt. Traditional timber pilings have been replaced with steel. Two restaurants and a bait shop leveled by the fire await an August completion.
"I love this place," said Tonya Sayle, who moved from Nantucket Island in Massachusetts to Santa Barbara five years ago. She sat on a bench outside the marine museum, flanked by two small boys she cares for during the day.
"It's peaceful and beautiful and I'm glad it's finally fixed," she said, doling out graham crackers to her companions. "It reminds me of home, only warmer."
Although the 1998 fire closed only the back portion of the structure, the noise and confusion of rebuilding have kept many people away. Within days of the fire, inspectors reopened the front portion of the 2,300-foot wharf and devotees trickled back.
But since the wharf's full four acres reopened May 27, balmy weather and the start of summer have brought visitors by the thousands.
"We get about 2 million people out here every year," said John Bridley, waterfront director for the city.
On a recent sunny weekday, they came. Walking, driving, pushing baby carriages and wheelchairs, they scattered to every corner of the wharf. Love-struck couples strolled hand in hand.
Boisterous groups of teenagers, identical outfits implying a strict, unspoken dress code, crowded the food stands. A trio of perfectly preserved 1931 Ford sedans, gleaming in the sun, rolled sedately across the wooden pier. A hulking Ford Excursion followed close behind, dwarfing its dainty ancestors.
Gulls and pelicans wafted like kites in the air overhead; a pair of great blue herons groomed each other on a spit of beach below.
Cesar Rico, who has lived in the city for 11 of his 19 years, relaxed on a shady bench in the newly opened portion of the wharf. His wife, Javiera, who expects their first child this month, looked quietly out to sea.
