With 4th of July nearing, my mom’s words “we’re all tourists” come back to me. Since 1963, we had many years of fun with our “valley rat” summer friends. We were endearingly called “beach trash.” And to that subject, after 15 years of early morning and evening beach cleanups, the shine has come off the task.
I am beginning to feel like your white slave. To quote a great song, please “Teach your children well.” (And that doesn’t mean public displays of discord.) Despite what locals may say, everyone is educable.
The biggest beach debris culprit, by far, is broken plastic shovels and buckets. The second is plastic water bottles and candy wrappers. These small items add up (if you Googled “ocean trash vortex,” you’d see multiple islands bigger than Texas out at sea). The third, and most offensive to a watersports person, is your dog’s feces. There are bag dispensers available at every beach entrance, thanks to our local Lioness Club. So there is no excuse for not cleaning up after them!
All we ask is that you look over your shoulder and make sure you leave nothing behind. What remains is subject to the ocean’s high tide that occurs two times in every 24-hour period.
Please respect our town as if it were your own.
Feeding seagulls is like feeding feral cats back in your hood. Car alarms are not necessary in Cayucos; disable them or just don’t lock the car to run in and out of your vacation rental. Partying into the wee hours because you can doesn’t mean you should. Leave the fireworks at home; neither our animals nor we like them.
If you choose to arrogantly continue your disregard for this lovely vacation spot, you are welcome to leave your home address with our lifeguards, and I will gladly deliver your trash onto your lawn, back home, be it Fresno, San Francisco, or Santa Barbara.