Healing the Sand

Hello! My name is Sebastian, and I’m working as a research assistant with the California Marine Sanctuary Foundation on the Ocean Access Project. During the summer of 2025, I’m based in Humboldt and Del Norte Counties, where I’m surveying California’s coastal communities - including tribal and underserved communities - to better understand how they use the ocean, what benefits it provides, and the challenges they face when accessing California’s coast. The insights from this work will help inform state policy and guide future ocean management decisions to ensure that everyone can access, enjoy, and benefit from our coast.

Tucked away on the Samoa Peninsula between the Mad River Slough and the Pacific Ocean, the Ma-le’l Dunes North and South are true hidden gems. Located just a mile north of Manila and about 3.5 miles west of Arcata, this stretch of Humboldt Bay coastline is a perfect destination for hiking, dog walking, or simply soaking in California’s wild, untamed beauty.

A sunny day at Ma-le’l North Dunes in Humboldt County. Credits: Sebastian Pinedo

The name Ma-le’l comes from the Wiyot language, meaning “his home.” It was originally the name of a Wiyot village once located along the North Spit. Today, the Wiyot Tribe, the Bear River Band of the Rohnerville Rancheria, and the Blue Lake Rancheria all remain deeply connected to this land.

These Tribes (Wiyot Tribe, Bear River Band of Rohnerville Rancheria, and Blue Lake Rancheria) actively protect ancestral cultural resources across the dunes while continuing traditional practices like fishing and gathering plants for food, medicine, and fiber. Their stewardship ensures that these lifeways, rooted in centuries of history, remain alive and vibrant.

One of my goals this summer is to engage more deeply with the diverse cultural identities of Humboldt County. During my time here, I also joined a volunteer restoration event organized by Friends of the Dunes, a local nonprofit dedicated to preserving coastal ecosystems. Every third Sunday of the month, they host volunteer days where community members can work alongside the Dune Ecosystem Restoration Team. For me, it was more than just a chance to volunteer, as it was the perfect opportunity to connect with my love of the wild landscapes, tied to the cultural and ecological restoration efforts that keeps them protected as well as meeting others who share my passion for protecting Northern California’s coastal environments.

Before joining my first volunteer day, I decided to explore Ma-le’l Dunes on my own. Armed with curiosity (and my backpack), I set out early, only to take a wrong turn and accidentally wander into the Lanphere Dunes, an area under strict protection and accessible only with a permit. After retracing my steps, I finally reached Ma-le’l South, and what I found took me by surprise. 

What I didn't realize until recently is just how important dunes really are. They’re not just piles of sand, they're home to rare plants and animals, they help buffer the coast from storms, sea level rise, and they even store carbon in their soils. And of course, they give the rest of us a place to hike, walk the dogs, and even feel at peace. But they’re super sensitive towards erosion, invasive plants (European grass), and too much human impact are what makes protecting and restoring them feel more meaningful.

Unlike the beaches I grew up with in Southern California, the landscape here felt entirely different. Rolling dunes were covered with native dune grass, scattered sand dollars and razor clam shells poke through the sand, and eelgrass fields gave way to dramatic natural sand cliffs along the coast. It was wild and totally fascinating, it didn’t even feel like the California landscape I knew.

The next day, I joined the monthly restoration event organized by Friends of the Dunes. Despite it being Father’s Day, volunteers still showed up, ready to roll up their sleeves. I quickly bonded with Ryland Sherman (the Restoration Stewardship Manager) and Alonso (a recent Cal Poly Humboldt graduate), together we spent the morning walking sandy trails, removing invasive European beachgrass, with its fast spread it could cover large areas forming artificial tall hardened dunes. In a place like the Ma-le’l Dunes, this invasive removal has already helped endangered species like the Humboldt Bay wallflower (Erysimum menziesii) reclaim its habitat. Learning about the unique ecology of this coastal habitat was truly educational and enjoyable.

Native dune grasses holding their ground at Ma-le’l Dunes. These resilient plants play a big role in keeping the sand in place and supporting the coastal system. Credits: Sebastian Pinedo

It was simple work, just three guys, one mission, and a whole lot of sand, but it felt deeply meaningful. The company of people who I just met, alongside the astonishing view of the coast near the Ma-le’l Dunes. As we talked and laughed, I realized how easy it is to bond when you’re working with your hands in the sand, and the ocean behind you. It was a one of a kind mix of human interaction and natural beauty that made me feel like I belonged there, even though it was my first time volunteering. By the end of the morning, I left with sandy shoes and a tired back, but also with a renewed sense of connection to this place.

Visiting and volunteering at Ma-le’l Dunes gave me more than just a glimpse into a stunning ecosystem, it offered a chance to connect with local culture, community, and history. Restoration may be slow, but every handful of invasive grass pulled is a step toward healing the sand. And in the process, it heals something in us too.