Fresh water is non-existent on the island, and what we bring is destined for internal use only. Washing is done in the sea. Some 500 meters off the northern cape, these two purple outcrops look like they've been put together for a movie set, and not particularly well put together either. Both offer 20 meter high cliffs, where every level spot hosts a generous smear of white bird poop. The barren east coast.
Birds are everywhere too, flying, diving, feeding, screaming.
The western islet is about a hundred paces long. The eastern is smaller, and has a sea arch cut right through the middle. Swells from the thousand kilometers of open sea crest and rush through the narrow passage. We watch the surges, and decide to skip paddling through it. Between the two islets is a wave-splashed rock shelf, on which a colony of California sea lions are barking and otherwise carrying on.