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 The year is 2007. The air is heavy and hot. A slight breeze blows in off the water, but it, too, is warm and only adds to the weight of an already record-breaking summer’s end. A strange sense of desperation envelops me as I shuffle up to an abandoned building that is shimmering in the afternoon sun. Like a bizarre scene from some yet-to-be-made post-apocalyptic western, the North Shore Beach & Yacht Club bakes in the blistering heat of another dry summer in the California desert.
Above the entrance to this dusty, dilapidated structure is painted “Aces & Spades,” a name I later learned was left over from the filming of the 2005 Michael Bay movie The Island. The door is padlocked, but the pool entrance is wide-open. So that’s where I go. Inside, it’s actually cooler. Most of the windows on the first floor are boarded up, but smack in the center of this 1960s-era relic, a shaft of dusty light streams through an opening in the ceiling, catching a startled pigeon in mid-flight, and providing both illumination and an escape for the oppressive heat that would otherwise cook everything inside.
The building sits at the edge of the Salton Sea, the largest body of water in California. In the 1960s, the North Shore Beach & Yacht Club was part of a thriving resort community that drew the rich and famous, people like Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Desi Arnaz. It was a playground where you could race boats, water-ski, bask in the sun, or sit back and enjoy a performance by the Pointer Sisters at a beachside four-star restaurant.
But by the 1970s, the area was well on its way to social abandonment. The increasing salinity of the water from irrigation runoff, intense evaporation from the desert heat, fish die-offs, and the receding shoreline contributed to the rapid decline of resort life. Decades later these yacht clubs, restaurants, and resorts lay in ruin, abandoned to time and decay…a photographer’s dream.
 Some things have changed since my trek through the old yacht club back in 2007. If you make your way to the site of the North Shore Beach & Yacht Club today (and I highly recommend that you do), you will find a contemporary building that stands in stark contrast to the abandoned relics that still surround the area. In the spring of 2010, with the help of the original plans of architect Albert Frey, the club was restored to its former state (with some minor modifications to bring it up to code) and was reborn as the beautiful Salton Sea History Museum. Several thousand people attended the grand opening last year, enjoying live bands, barbecue and games for the kids, and several hundred more stop by every week to catch a glimpse of the amazing history of this unique destination.
Ancient Beginnings
Millions of years ago, geologic and tectonic forces ripped apart the North American and Pacific plates, opening up a sub-ocean crack in what is now Mexico and California. Mountains were pushed up on either side, and the crust in between subsided and settled, forming California’s present-day Imperial Valley, Coachella Valley and the Sea of Cortez (aka the Gulf of California).
 Sediment collected by the Colorado River as it carved its way through the Rocky Mountains and the Grand Canyon was deposited as the river spilled into the gulf. The northwestern end of this alluvial basin is now occupied by the Salton Sea, but it was not the first body of water to do so. Historic evidence and geologic studies have shown that the Colorado River spilled over into the basin on numerous occasions, creating intermittent lakes.
It is uncertain how many times water has naturally filled the basin over the centuries, but we know that human intervention is responsible for inundating the basin only once, when in 1901, the California Development Company dug irrigation canals from the Colorado River. Silt soon built up and inhibited the flow, prompting engineers to create a cut in the western bank of the river, which, in turn, allowed floodwaters to rush unchecked into the valley, creating what we know today as the Salton Sea.
Saltier than the Ocean
The evolution of the area continued as people moved into the surrounding towns, and land was developed for agriculture. For now, the Salton Sea is more or less maintaining a consistent level, striking an uneasy balance between filling with nearby agricultural runoff and evaporating under the hot desert sun, causing the water to get saltier and saltier. Over recent decades, the sea has alternately filled and evaporated at such a rapid rate that its salt content is now almost 30 percent higher than that of the Pacific Ocean.
As a matter of fact, there is so much salt and agricultural contamination of the sea that there are frequent bird and fish die-offs numbering in the tens of thousands. A short walk along any of the beaches will bring this point home, as that crunching sound beneath your feet is not just sand and salt, but also millions of marine deposits, shells, and bits of fish and bird bones that have accumulated over the years. Yet, despite all this trauma, life at the sea continues to thrive. Today the Salton Sea is home to millions of fish and thousands of migratory birds that take advantage of the sea’s high nutrient content and use the sea as a rest stop on their long distance journeys.
 Efforts to restore the Salton Sea are under way through the Salton Sea Authority formed by local agencies and through a new Salton Sea Restoration Council.
Eerie Beauty
Given its ancient history, the abandoned remains of hotels and homes, and the various trailers and cars swallowed up by the hungry sea, it’s easy to see how one might feel a little uneasy here—as if treading, unwelcome, upon an ancient grave. But, in reality, the feeling is quite different.
Yes, the wind whistling through the broken windows and the eerie absence of any sounds that indicate life certainly create a sense of loneliness, but they also create a sense of peace. It’s quiet here. And, in a way…beautiful. It can be both a seductive and mysterious place—a step back in time and time standing still. The warm air and high winds kick up a dusty sky that lends itself to unreal sunsets, and the white salty crust of sand, shells, and tiny marine deposits define a beach that glows softly in the silver moonlight. It’s like watching nature reclaim what was rightfully hers, absorbing the invasion of mankind and burning off his debris in the pink and blue twilight that only a desert oasis can inspire.
 During my travels, I’ve seen just about all of this desert miracle, but the artist in me keeps bringing me back. The Salton Sea is like an ancient spirit that spins away all time and space, allowing a person to be alone with his thoughts, giving one’s soul room to breathe and recover from the stresses and worries of life. It’s a world in limbo—a rejuvenating well of hope, where time has slowed down and nature is at peace. It is a survivor, and it will continue to survive as long as there is water to feed it.
If you find yourself traveling in the American Southwest, add the Salton Sea to your itinerary. Yes, it’s out in the middle of nowhere, but its diversity, mystery and beauty make it a deserving destination. Bring water, bring your camera, and leave the outside world behind for a while. You may love it as I do, or you may hate it, but either way, you’ll never forget it.
Holt Webb is a writer and photographer whose work can be found at vanishingamerica.net.
IF YOU GO:
The Salton Sea is south of Interstate 10, north of Interstate 8, and east of Interstate 15. Highway 111 and Highway 86 are the two main roads that provide access to the sea. The shore is accessible by one means or another virtually all along its perimeter. But, if you don’t have four-wheel-drive, it’s best to stick to the paved and gravel roads. Highways 111 on the east and 86 on the west have numerous side roads that take you to towns, communities, campgrounds, and strange but fascinating dead ends – many of which have direct access to the water.
There are plenty of places to park an RV or motorhome around the Salton Sea, starting with the numerous campgrounds along the eastern shore. From full hookups to boondocking in an abandoned lot, you would be hard pressed not to find a place to park. And, though the area may appear a bit intimidating and unsafe due to the condition of many of the buildings and roads, it is probably one of the safest places to stay. People here are friendly and mind their own business, yet still watch out for one another and have a lot of respect for anyone willing to make the trek this far from the big cities.
The Salton Sea Authority and the Salton Sea Museum are wonderful sources for a history of the area. The Salton Sea Museum is closed Wednesday and Thursday, but is usually open other days from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. The non-profit museum is run entirely by a staff of volunteers, so call to check the hours before you plan your visit. Summer hours vary, depending on volunteer availability. For information, see saltonseamuseum.org or call (760) 393-9222. Jennie Kelly is museum director.
The Salton Sea Authority website can be found at saltonsea.ca.gov.
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