I Want To Believe

I left the house at about 10:15. It is a perfectly clear sky and 68 degrees outside - not bad at all.

I get to the parking lot and conditions feel the same as it has for the last couple swims. It’s a little cool in the shade but warm in the sun so I try to stay in the sun where I can but the stairway path limits my abilities here.

Tide is nearing a 2 foot low due in the next half hour. The beach has two tiers - upper and lower - with a two to three foot step in the sand separating them that intersects with the concrete ramp. This is pretty much the same as what I saw a couple days ago. Surf has definitely picked up. The surf report said 2-3+ with increasing size throughout the day. I see a wave that is undoubtedly larger and probably head high. There is a NW swell filling in and due to peak tomorrow.

I get in the water and start to swim west. The temperature feels the same as it did on Monday two days ago - cold but not COLD. It is generally nice. Visibility has come down a bit and I don’t see much if any of the bottom once past the surf, but the color is a lovely sky blue.

I swim out a bit further than I would on a low surf day especially in light of my experience last week. I want to be well clear of any random outside sets. However, the water just doesn’t have that kind of energy to it today. Out here the ocean feels calm and forgiving.

It is such a lovely swim. So many of my recent swims have been later in the day and this one actually feels like I’m in the morning light and the day is still fresh.

Every now and then I get this sense that I am more cold than I want to be and I bring my attention to my epidermal layer and the water that directly surrounds it. I try to become receptive to the coolness and this helps me adjust and feel more equanimous toward my comfort level. We are still doing great for December and yesterday’s water temp forecast says we should hold here for at least the next week. I’ve become accustomed to the fact that these forecasts tend to be about 50% reliable but I want to believe.

I see a Calico Bass hovering in the kelp on the way back north and I dive under to see how close I can get. As I continue north and gaze west, I see a growing layer of white mush sitting right on the water near the horizon. My paranoid self (the primary one) wonders if this is a tidal wave that has broken and is making its way east to obliterate everything in its path. Nope. It is indeed water but definitely more vaporous than liquid - possibly a fog bank that might show more of itself later on but allowing us all to live another day. As I get closer to my northern turnaround this white layer seems to thicken but remains far from threatening.

I soon finish the swim and look out onto the water to bid it farewell until next time - likely Saturday. A woman walking on the beach asks me if I have ever gotten caught in a rip tide. I tell her “no.” This is something I have wondered about myself. Rip currents are definitely a thing around here from what I can tell based on the warnings on lifeguard towers and my jr. lifeguard days of my childhood. However having swum here for decades, I don’t ever recall the sense of “Oh my God. I can’t get to the shore!” The closest I have ever come to that was in Hawaii this last January. I was more than close, I was genuinely concerned. Fortunately, thanks to the aforementioned jr. lifeguard training, I knew how to get out of it - after 45 years that knowledge finally came in handy.

I have a nice chat with the woman about swimming in the ocean and then head home. Later I check the webcam and updated report. It is now 3-5 feet surf and the beach is completely socked in with fog.