Crown Cove whispers secrets of Coronado’s past. Before the sleek yachts and waterfront homes, this tranquil bay held a much different scene. Imagine, if you will, a time when Crown Cove wasn’t a cove at all, but a bustling brickyard. Elisha Babcock’s kilns fired the very bricks that built the iconic Hotel del Coronado. The shallow harbor, then known as Brickyard Cove, became a popular picnic spot for San Diegans. They sailed across the bay, seeking respite amidst the industrial clangor. Later, Crown Cove transformed again. Gone were the brickmakers, replaced by a rather pungent enterprise. Henry and Rudolph Riis leased the land, transforming it into “Hog Ranch.” These weren’t your average farm hogs. They feasted on the leftovers from the Hotel del Coronado and the city of Coronado itself. A peculiar arrangement, perhaps, but it speaks to a resourcefulness of a bygone era. The Riis family didn’t only raise hogs. They also raised chickens, cows, and horses, adding to the rural character of the area. But disaster struck in 1916. A devastating flood, triggered by the Otay water disaster, inundated the ranch. The Riis family lost everything and Coronado gained a dirty little secret. With Hog Ranch abandoned, the city began using the area as an unofficial dump. For twenty years, Rancho Carillo, as it was then called, became Coronado’s dumping ground. Finally, in 1955, the dump was, well, dumped. The land lay fallow, awaiting a new destiny. That destiny arrived in the form of the Coronado Cays. In the late 1960s, developers envisioned a luxurious marina community. Dredging began, reshaping the landscape and creating the Crown Cove we know today. The landfill, dredged from the bay bottom, even found a second life. It was used to build the property that eventually became the Loews Coronado Bay Resort. So, as you stand here, gazing at the tranquil waters of Crown Cove, remember its layered past. From brickyard, to hog farm, to city dump, and finally, to a waterfront paradise, Crown Cove embodies Coronado’s ever-evolving story.
Sweetwater River
From high in the Cuyamaca Mountains, the Sweetwater River begins its journey. It’s a 55-mile trek to the Pacific, a