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They were standing on the Embarcadero, outside one of the tourist-oriented shops, as if trying to decide where to go next. They looked so content and friendly, and so obviously weren’t locals, that I was emboldened to ask: “What brought you to Morro Bay?”

“The charm of a small seaside village,” answered Bob Miller, of San Clemente. He and his wife had been driving down the coast and decided to stop in the town. “We came here several times with the children in the ’70s, when we lived in Anaheim,” Celine Miller explained. “We tried to find the place where we had clam chowder—and we did find it.” They had concluded that the town hadn’t changed all that much.

It was early afternoon on a lovely September Wednesday, and the Morro Bay waterfront was pretty quiet. On the Embarcadero, banners at shop doorways stirred in the light breeze. From the boardwalk along the glittering water, a few small boats were visible near Morro Rock, the ancient volcanic plug that is the main local landmark. The Rock is home to two pairs of nesting peregrine falcons, as well as plovers, guillemots, cormorants, and other birds. In the past, stone was quarried from the Rock, using explosives, to build roads and harbors. Now it’s a wildlife reserve.

At the south end of town, a small boy and his mother had Tidelands Park to themselves, with its playful sculptures of sea mammals and a wooden-boat climbing structure. To the north, on the wharf near the three smokestacks of the Duke Energy power plant, a couple of fishermen were putting away their gear.

The Millers had whetted my appetite for clam chowder, so I headed north along the waterfront and soon arrived at the Li’l Hut, where I found chowder on the menu posted beside the take-out window. “The clams are local, right?” I asked. “Nope,” was the response from within. “Well, I’d like something local, so what’s local?” “There’s nothing local. Everything’s from somewhere else,” answered the manager, Tammy Jones. The Li’l Hut is only steps away from the wharf where fishing boats come in with their catch. “Everything’s from somewhere else?” “That’s right.”

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