On Catalina Island, Unemployment Is 90%. A Local Food Pantry Is Making Sure No One Goes Hungry

Catalina Island is 26 miles off the coast of Long Beach, a peaceful rock in the glimmering Pacific. It is known as a tourist destination, but around 4,000 people live there year-round. The island is accessible by small airplane, but most visitors and locals take the ferry — a $75 round-trip journey.

The hour-long ferry from Long Beach to the town of Avalon on Catalina Island is only open for essential travel. Mask-wearing is mandatory (though you can still purchase a Bloody Mary, if you slip the straw under your mask).

I know this because I’m from Catalina. I rode the ferry from Long Beach earlier this month to shelter in place with my mom. There are only two documented cases of COVID-19 on Catalina Island, but for a town that relies on tourism, the loss of business has devastated locals.

The city of Avalon unemployment estimates are as high as 90%, and most of the town's restaurants, hotels and beaches are closed. The red-brick streets that would typically be bustling with selfie-stick wielding tourists are empty. Avalon feels like a ghost town.

It takes just five minutes to walk from the ferry to the Avalon Community Church. Every Wednesday since mid-March, dozens of families stand 6 feet apart on the sidewalk outside the church, seeking out the shade on a hot spring day.

They’re chatting mostly in Spanish — around two-thirds of Avalon is Latinx. Many are Mexican American and primarily work in the hospitality and food service industry, meaning many are now unemployed. They're waiting patiently in line at the Avalon Food Pantry.

Dany Silva Rios is a high school senior who volunteers at the pantry. “We all need help right now," he said. "Since the whole island pretty much shut down and no tourists are allowed to come in right now.”

Silva Rios didn’t know the food pantry existed a month ago. Before the coronavirus, it fed five to seven families a week. Now, 150 families come by every week for groceries, according to Niah Gerard, a pantry organizer.

On Wednesdays, Silva Rios helps put together bags of groceries for elderly and disabled residents. He has been doing community service for a long time and he's president of Avalon High’s volunteer club. “I joined mainly because I had a bunch of free time on me. But as soon as I kept going with it, I pretty much just fell in love with helping out people,” he said.

Now, with the sudden need for volunteers at the food pantry, Silva Rios and his fellow students are delivering groceries to people they have known their entire lives.

Almost Everyone in Avalon Is Affected

Everyone I know on the island is impacted by the coronavirus. Even my mom, who works as a tour guide at the zip line, a popular activity for tourists, was furloughed. My sister usually works next door at the aerial adventure park, which is also closed. Both just filed for unemployment.

In Avalon, folks struggle to make it on a good day. Many high school students like Silva Rios work to help support their families. “The general goal is to work during most of the summer, the two jobs I have, and save up so I could get ready to go to college,” he said.

He just committed to the University of Denver, and even though he received a big scholarship from Southern California Edison, he’s concerned for his family and community. The rest of his family are also out of work now that the restaurant where his dad waited tables is closed.

The city government knows they can’t rush to bring tourists back because we live in such close quarters — there’s a huge risk of community infection.

In the meantime, Catalina Island residents are hoping for generous state and federal relief money to help people survive.

A Tight-knit Island Community

There is a small silver lining: Everyone in Avalon is used to constantly working, so the pause has allowed time for families to bond, cook and play board games.

“Right now we're just playing Monopoly and everyone seems to have fun,” Silva Rios said. “There was a night where we started like at nine and then we didn't finish it until one in the morning.”

Almost everyone in my hometown is struggling. But at the food pantry, there’s still a feeling of togetherness. I watched Niah Gerard pass out groceries, dish soap and sometimes cookies for those with kids.

“We’re here to help,” Gerard said. For now, at least nobody is going hungry.