Who Lives In Hollister Ranch - T-Tees - Your Answers Await, Life's Questions Unraveled

“Visually, of course, it is a triumph. Undeveloped hills and valleys, perfect surf, empty lineups.”

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The parents of Santa Babs surfing superstars Conner and Parker Coffin have listed their one-third share in 101 acres of gorgeous Hollister Ranch dirt, a beachfront enclave that counts blockbuster filmmaker James Cameron, Patagonia founder Yvon Chouinard and minstrel Jackson Browne as owners.

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Rich and Krista Coffin, who operate a high-end construction biz, delighting in “creating architecturally significant homes”, are selling the pretty two bed, two bath guest house with separate studio at 115 Hollister Ranch Rd, Gaviota for a few shekels south of five mill.

“Gorgeous site set in a draw/meadow surrounded by oaks. Truly serene, private, and quiet. Just 3 mins. to the best beaches in Santa Barbara County for beach combing, surfing, fishing, and recreational activities. Prime location in one of the best areas in Hollister Ranch w easy all paved access. A rare offering.”

For those who’ve come in late, Hollister Ranch is fifty-eight square clicks, or 14.400 acres, of gated beachfront land on the Gaviota Coast in Santa Barbara County, California. The gates, which were supposed to open after five decades on April 1, are still firmly bolted following legal action by the Ranch’s landowners.

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Therefore, y’aint surfing round these parts unless you can boat in.

But as Jen See wrote a lil while back, “The idea of Hollister Ranch as some kind of Eden persists, but is by now, largely imagined. The best-known spots on good swells buzz with jetskis, zodiacs, and floating machines of all shapes and sizes. Anyone with a boat or a friend with a boat can go there. And we all know by now what happened to Eden.”

Matt Warshaw’s take on the Ranch hits a similar vein. Read about the “hard ugliness” of the joint and its “sales pitch wearing a Gestapo jacket pretending to be a conservation statement” here.

Whatever you think of the Ranch, capitalism or maybe feudalism at its worst, the rich eat the cake, the poor sweep up the crumbs, sure would be nice to have a place there.

The Coffin House is sturdily built, as you might imagine, pretty enough and blends enough into the surroundings so you don’t feel like a giant stomping through some of the last undeveloped coastline in California.

Taxes hit close to thirty gees a year.

Come stroll the tiled floors here.