Buoy Body
It's the first swim of the New Year. The brunt of our monster WNW swell is easing now and it's just leftovers. Boy was it big. It was definitely on par with last January’s swell which was the biggest in decades.
Terrible photo taken on Friday
I came out for a look Friday morning and there were surfers out in easily double overhead sets. I saw one guy really struggling to make his way out into the lineup. He just couldn't catch a break and you could tell he was getting super tired. He started drifting into a rocky area in high tide and I wasn't quite sure he was going to make it without incident. Fortunately he did finally make it out.
There were several lobster traps that had gotten washed inshore. That alone tells you it must be big because those traps are set well past the normal line of surf. There was a clump of half a dozen trap buoys that were all tangled up and kind of looked like a human body slumped over in the breaking surf. A woman asked me if we should call for help. I assured her all was ok, but I could certainly see how one could suspect trouble.
Yesterday I took a run through Doheny along the parking area that runs parallel to the bluffs on PCH. You could see how the high tide line extended at least to the fence just before the train tracks and the little bike/walking trail near Capo Beach was completely washed away.
So I knew today could be good to swim and was happy to see the 3-4+ foot rating on surfline. I left at about 10:30 and the skies were clear with a lining of large puffy clouds far out on the horizon. It's about 62 degrees out and the sun feels nice. I'm just a bit nervous about the surf. Studying the webcams things look predominantly tame but there are occasional larger sets. Should I give things one more day to settle? No. I'll be fine.
I get to the parking lot and it's a lovely day. As I begin to descend the stairs I know the surf is smaller because I can't see the white water yet which means it is not breaking so deep. Once I do see the surf it is definitely not tiny but not unusually large. I watch a head high set roll in.
My goodness where did all the sand go? This is a different beach than when I left it on my last swim. The tide is just above 4 feet and there is no dry sand to walk on. I get to a rock with a drill hole that was shin high last Wednesday and is now over my head. I head out into the water and there is more surf than normal. I dive under one wave and then crest a few more just before they break. The water feels about the same as it did last week. It's cool but quite manageable. If I can achieve just the right level of relaxation, it is pleasant.
I'm fairly obsessed with the surf throughout the swim. The set I came through on the way out was pretty big. I wonder if there is some crazy “last hurrah” set of this swell that wants to show. Logic and experience tell me the only crazy here is probably right inside my head. Yeah I feel energy in the water but nothing particularly malicious. I try to just let go into this experience and observe my thoughts and neurotic fears. Will a current pull me into the rocky cliffs or suck me out to sea just like it has never ever done before?
No denying it is beautiful out for sure. At least above the surface. I can't see a thing beneath. There really is no visibility here. I'm probably looking at all the sand in the water that was on the beach last week. I wonder what this might mean for the local sand replenishment projects underway. What a shame if all the sand shipped in is now gone. How can you really plan for this?
I'm swimming super far out. When I near the northern bathrooms, they look far and tiny. I'm not taking any chances though. From the shore earlier it looked like there were waves breaking well past the Salt Creek lifeguard tower. However I don't see any sign of a breaking wave or their surfer companions. I plot a course directly for the strands lifeguard hut and before long I'm nearing the shore and it looks as though I am going to live. Lately it seems like I have been living a sort of charmed life where my shoreward swims are concerned. I don't get pounded once.
The walk to the cement ramp is stop and go as the intermittent waves block my view of the rocks that now litter the path.
Well that was another great swim. I had a dream last night where I was explaining to someone that every swim in the ocean is a gift. As I walk up the stairs in this sun with the sound of the surf behind me, I just can't argue that I have just been given something precious.
