If Only I Had All Day

I left just about 10 minutes after 6:00 this morning with the goal of getting back home before my toddler son wakes up. It’s overcast out and the surf report mentioned fog but I didn’t see anything of significance on the Strands or Salt Creek web cams - maybe a bit more in the Doheny area but still not worth sounding the alarms.

As I am driving north and approaching the 5 freeway, things are looking pretty misty and I am wondering if there are going to be issues. I can see low ephemeral clouds of mist pass over the Dana Point hillsides and while Doheny is pretty clear, the fog pack does not look all that far off shore.

As I near Selva, the hills above Laguna Niguel are almost completely hidden. When I finally get a view of the ocean from the parking lot things look definitely doable. Yes there is fog off shore but I can clearly see far past where I will be swimming and I can see all the points: Dana, Salt Creek, and Monarch even if they are a little misty. Misty is nice. I filled up my sun tank yesterday so I’m good with the clouds this morning.

I head down the stairs and soak in the bird song and the sound of the waves. I’m really hoping the fog holds. It could stay just like this for hours or this beach could be inundated with a blanket of cloud in a matter of minutes. I’m certainly not turning around now. I’ll survive either way.

Once I’m just about to the shore, I can see the surf is up. It’s not really that big at all but it is super good quality, clean and consistent waves rolling in. If only I had all day, it would be so fun to stay and body surf.

I dive under some of these waves and the water is relatively clear. The ocean floor comes alive as the white water crashes above. The sand rises and expands like the surrounding impact of a nuclear bomb. Then it settles and soon returns to stillness. Everything is a calming light blue here below the surface. Above the water it is more grey with low clouds obscuring the cliffs in the distance. Looking to the east, I can sense a slight tint of blue in the clouds - as if they could start to burn off any minute. No complaint there. I psychically project, “burn clouds, burn!” No response.

I am swimming south and the water feels good. I can see waves breaking far south of me a little further out and once I am in the southernmost zone of the swim, the water feels more active and I feel myself rise and fall with the swell. I can see waves moving and crashing into the cliffs below the headlands and see a pack of surfers closer to shore.

I linger here at the southern end for just a little bit. Monarch point doesn’t look any clearer but I can still see it without any significant obscurity. I think things are going to be fine as far as fog goes. In fact, everything here is shaping up to be more than fine. Circumstances are conspiring to produce a most lovely and peaceful morning on the water.

I head north and let myself fall away into the water. There is just this wide, broad expanse that I am floating in. I am moving steadily north, looking up periodically to check my trajectory. The water’s surface is smooth and I watch the exposed parts of kelp leaves float into, past and out of my field of vision.

Every now and then I see these little shapes pass underneath me. I noticed this yesterday too and also on other random days. They are very faint - like tiny ghosts. I wonder if they are really anything or just a figment of my imagination. They are nearly translucent and once I notice them and then take a second look, they are gone. Today I notice one as I am stopped and it is definitely a thing that is outside of myself. I am pretty sure it is a tiny jelly fish similar to the light bulb shaped thing I saw yesterday but its only the size of the tip of my finger. I stare at it for a bit and then I move on.

I see a few flocks of pelicans on the trip north. As soon as I spot them I grab my camera as fast as I can, aim (which is harder than I’d like it to be) and shoot and then wonder if I got anything at all in that picture resembling a Pelican. Usually I don’t, sometimes I get a blur, and on a couple occasions I have gotten something I’m really happy with. Over the two years I have been taking these pictures, I have goten a little better at capturing those pelicans.

That lifeguard tower at the end of Salt Creek point is getting more clear and I can see the jr. lifeguard buoy approaching. I soon pass it and then very quickly after that I reach my northern turn around point. I watch the waves roll into the main Salt Creek point break and their rooster tail back wash emerges and dissipates into the air above them.

I head south again and finish the swim. As I exit the water, everything still looks pretty much as it did when I entered. It’s still grey and misty. No burn off and no fog takeover. It’s pretty darn nice for the few of us here to enjoy it.