The Port of Port Orford

Or. Or. Or. Or.

Henry had fun pronouncing "The Port of Port Orford" emphasizing the "or" sound in an American accent. We all had fun with it!

A small, active fishing port located between Gold Beach and Coos Bay on the Southern Oregon coast, Port Orford is an artistic haven with a rich history steeped in fishing and logging.

First we stopped at Battle Rock Beach on the outskirts of town where Henry and I enjoyed a leisurely cheeseburger and coffee respectively at the Redfish Restaurant, sat out on the sun drenched patio, perched on top of the sea bluffs overlooking the bay. Kim meandered down to the grassy park below, to a lone bench overlooking the ocean. We all spent a happy hour or so basking in the autumn sunshine. In the distance we could see some brave surfers riding the waves that seemed to be growing, becoming more menacing as we watched. We could see the 101 carved into the cliff where the tall pines seemed to drop off into the ocean, winding its way into town. At the bottom of the steep cliffs, the wide sandy beach was met with bleached logs and bedraggled seaweed strewn across dark pebbles to mark the level of the high tide.

You could hardly tell where the sky met the ocean as the marine, sky and cerulean blues mingled together at the horizon.

​Next we moved down to the natural harbor and the busy dock, home to 30 working fishing boats. We saw the two huge yellow cranes mounted on movable, homemade dollies used to hoist the local fishing vessels up or down, out or in, to the water below. The mobile "dolly dock" at Port Orford is one of only two in the US and one of only six in the entire world. It was quite a sight!

Not only is Port Orford known for fishing, but also the export of local timber, particular the Port Orford Cedar which is renowned for its spicy aromatic scent and healing properties, particularly sought after in Japan for building shrines and temples. We saw evidence of the logging industry throughout Port Orford which had a wide array of timber yards. Trucks loaded up with huge trunks passed through town, North up to Astoria or South down to San Francisco or Los Angeles. You could even smell the trees in the salty air.

We stopped for gas in town and discovered it was so much cheaper than California!

On the way back to the trailer we once again stopped along the way to take in the breathtaking scenery. The waves were huge on the journey home, maybe 15-20 feet high in some places.