Ask Me About Living Water

I wasn’t sure where I was going to go swim today. The fog never cleared yesterday and just got worse at night. Then this morning things looked clear on the coast but a thick fog bank was visible well short of the horizon. This moved closer through mid-morning and I was sure that The Strand would get socked in, but it never did. So just a few minutes before 10:00 I headed on down that way.

There was certainly some fog but it was not too dense and the worst of it remained offshore. From the parking lot, I could not see too far but I could see far enough. Wind was calm.

It’s been cold all morning and did not break 50 degrees until 8:30. As I walk down the stairs I’m already thinking of my morning coffee that is at home waiting for me. Of course by then it will be afternoon coffee - tastes just as good.

As I round the bend just past the lower bathrooms and onto the asphalt road, I start to feel just a little warmer probably because the cliff is sheltering me from the light offshore breeze. There is some surf in the water, but nothing too note worthy. It is just about high tide which is slowing things down a bit. High tide is only 5.6 today so there is just a little bit of beach to walk on as I get to my spot.

Despite the clouds and looming fog, it is pleasant and peaceful out. The cold and tide keeps the crowds off the beach. There is a lone surfer out and a couple walkers up above the rocks. While most of the sky is covered in clouds of varying viscosity, there are also some patches of blue here and there.

I get my stuff settled and set my pack down above the lower rocks but low enough that I won’t have to scramble to retrieve it after my swim. I walk out into the water and a set of waves is just rolling in. I wait for them to pass. They break and do the job of getting at least my lower half wet. Then I dive through the last smaller wave and I’m off to the races.

It’s cold. However I’m pretty well adjusted and don’t suffer much in the way of cold shock. I feel ok but it takes a bit before I feel “comfortable.” At one point soon into the swim, the sun is breeching through the cloud cover and reflecting off the smooth surface of the water so brilliantly that I just have to stop for a photo.

I continue down towards the south end of the beach. At one point near the cliffs, I can feel the water slightly warm. Oh thank you very much. This 59 degrees feels like an outdoor hot tub at a Mammoth condo during the height of the ski season.

When I arrive at the south end, I’m delighted to see that the beach and northern points still look very much visible. I feel real good and I’m happy to be here.

As I swim north, it feels like I have gained some speed. I also have this feeling like I’m in a race against the fog. Every now and then as I look ahead to the point above the lifeguard tower, it looks pretty darn misty. The water sure is much more clear than it was at Capo and south Doheny yesterday. I pass kelp tree after kelp tree and catch stray pieces of seaweed in my hair. The water is a lovely light teal. I can feel more of these warm spots and I am so grateful. I can’t imagine where they come from or how they managed to survive the cold overnight air.

At times the light seems to darken and the cliffs get mistier and I think I have to move faster. I want to get a full swim in before this beach is swallowed by fog, but then I pause and have a look around and visibility looks perfectly fine and good enough to last me plenty.

I do manage to get to the other end of the beach in what feels like pretty good time. The dexterity of my fingers is fading but I can still form a full cupped hand to catch the water and pull myself forward. On the one hand, I look so forward to getting home and warming up with coffee, and on the other hand, I feel so fortunate to be here right now. How many others will experience the water as I am right now? I can’t believe I am the only one out here right now. Thousands of people sit in their houses in these coastal towns and have no idea of what they are missing. Or they do have ideas, but they are completely false. They likely imagine some kind of hellish death swim, but I am telling you this water gives life. I have found living water. Should I adorn my truck with placards that say, “ask me about living water?” No. Probably not.

I only have about 10 minutes left. I have no fear left for the cold now. I might as well be home free. Soon it is time to head to shore and the light shines magically on this cloud reflecting water. Ask me about the magical light.