A Million Wakes

I left a little after 10:00. It’s mostly sunny. Lots of blue in the sky with large groupings of clouds that periodically cast temporary shade. It’s nice and it tastes ever so faintly of Fall which is coming in just a few days.

As I round the final bend on Pacific Coast Highway before turning off on to Selva, the sky seems to open up and there is a large pool of blue open sky above the water. Thick and heavy clouds dominate just west of the headlands at the south end of the beach and there are only small patches of cloud north over Laguna.

If there were any questions about my route today, they have just been answered. I’m going to chase the last bits of Summer left and head north towards open sky.

I get out of the car after I park and there is a small breeze but I can feel the sun on the back of my shoulders. I head towards the stairs and watch the mostly smooth, slightly textured blue water in front of me. Like yesterday, I can see the swell lines travel east. But unlike yesterday, the water looks more clear. From up here on the stairs, I can see the variation of shades on the surface from the hidden rocky structures below.

It feels like the air gets warmer as I descend the stairs. The breeze seems to fade - likely obscured by the bluff. I let the final rocky asphalt work and massage my feet all the way to the sand.

The tide is just starting to come down from a 5.9 high. The white water rushes close to the rocky revetment but there is still plenty of sand. In fact, the small stairway that runs along side the concrete ramp below the asphalt is completely covered. If you were not familiar, you would never know there were any stairs there.

Not a lot of people on the shore right now but that is absolutely no reflection on the quality of the whole beachside experience here. It’s close to as good as it gets. The crowds just are not aware of how good September is. It’s honestly far better than June or July on average.

The water feels about the same on my feet as it did yesterday. As I get in and walk toward the surf it continues to feel good. However I can’t say that I’m excited about that final lean in that is required prior to swimming. The thought of weaning my back from direct contact with the sun just doesn’t have strong appeal right now. I’m going to just have to do this - like it or not. I know in the end it’s all going to be good.

Lean in and in I go. I’m fully committed now. The initial cold washes over me like a wave that moves just beneath my skin. The wave passes and so does the cold. We are all good now. I have achieved stasis.

Mmm. It is clear. Yesterday everything was shaken up but now the sea grass covered rocks below are crystal clear. I swim through what feels like a strong but silent wind as the grass moves to and fro over the rocks. A single Garibaldi swims just off to the side.

As I near the point just beyond the lifeguard tower, I remain fairly close to shore. When I do reach the tower, it looks so close. There are some waves that break just past me but nothing threatening. The scenery here below the surface is terrific. I see some of the same schools of fish I saw near Three Arch a couple weeks ago. They are about the size of small bass and they have vertical stripes.

The ground here is covered in rock - most are small and there are a few large boulders. This looks like just an extension of the rocky point that the lifeguard tower sits on. As I continue to swim north, we go from mostly rock to mostly sand with scattered rock here and there.

The air looks so clear today - hardly any haze. I love these huge billowy clouds that skirt the edge of the shore. I keep moving and slowly I start to drift west and away from the beach club which lies in the general direction of where I am heading. I’m really not sure how far I want to go. I get to the northern bathrooms but can’t yet bring myself to stop. Just a little further.

I see clumps of seaweed hanging from the surface of the water like nature’s floating gardens. Sometimes my face turns for air and I am only inches from a tangled mass of vine and it looks stunning and I don’t know why but I don’t over analyze it and just take it in.

My camera has ceased its crazyness from yesterday and I made sure to lock the screen today. However for some reason the display is vertically rotating and as I take pictures I see the image upside down. I wonder if this means the pics will come out upside down which can be easily fixed but this behavior does manage to annoy me and I try to just let it go. Who cares what shows up in the display. I’m just pointing and clicking here.

I get closer to the beach club and figure now is as good of a time as any to turn around. I take a couple more upside down pictures and head toward home.

I’m definitely moving against the current now. Every now and then my hand catches on the top of the water as the wakes rise while I lift my arm for the next stroke. But sure enough, those houses just above the shore keep moving by. Here comes the portable lifeguard tower on the sand and there it goes.

The wind is picking up and I can see a million wakes on the water spread out all the way to Dana Point. Each one catches the sun in a sparkle that makes it feel like I am swimming through a field of stars. What a perfect day I’m looking at.

I’m swimming by the Ritz and getting close to the point again. The sandy bottom transitions to black rock and a large cloud seems to materialize just above me. The light dims a few notches and I feel like the sun has just been eclipsed.

Below the surface it’s business as usual. I see a huge school of Corbina (I think?) right in front of me and they don’t seem in any hurry to leave despite my presence. The water is super clear right here. If I wink at the fish maybe they will wink back.

Here I am back on the Strands side of the point. I can see the asphalt road not too far away. I’ll be walking up it in about 15 minutes. The eclipse has passed and I am now in the full light of the sun.

As I gradually get closer to shore, the water loses its clarity. Waves are breaking close by and I see lots of small stray pieces of kelp hovering all around me. I wonder what their vitamin content consist of. I’m sure I have ingested a good few of these bits over the swim.

I stand myself up once I can feel my fingers brush the top of the bottom. I head toward the stairs. The sun feels good but seems to wax and wane as I walk up the stairs.

On the way to the parking lot I reflect over my thoughts during the swim. It’s like trying to remember a dream just after waking up. All I can recall is a jumble of water and sky and moving arms. Some random images start to emerge from memory and I wonder are these memories or are they just something I am creating now and implanting in my swim that now lies in the past? Then I wonder, does it even matter? The experience is gone and will never come back. The memory lingers and even if it is not some perfect replica of of what just transpired, all I can do is keep it.