I’ll Have the Cobble Scramble
I leave just a little before 12:30. I’m only hesitant because the surf size is reported to be 4-6, but I’ve been looking at the web cam throughout the morning and it looks pretty tame out there. I used to be totally fine with 4-6 until I had some sketchy encounters getting caught in the surf about a year ago that I am certain was bigger than 6 feet. And then there were a couple incidents late last Fall where I saw huge sets coming in when the surf report said it was 3-4+. Basically the longer I have been cross referencing actual observed surf alongside the daily surf reports, the more I realize that these numbers are closer to probabilities than actual concrete phenomenon. In fact just last week I went out in 3-5 and checked the afternoon report when I got back home and it was upgraded to 4-6 but the surf was quite mellow. Anyways, it’s 70 degrees outside, I’ve had limited swim opportunities the last couple weeks, and come Thursday a new “atmospheric river” is due to hit California with a bunch of rain over several days and I want to swim as much as I can between now and Thursday. So off I go on this beautiful late January day. The sky is completely clear and it is extremely pleasantly warm out. I can’t think of a better day to get pummeled by surf. As I drive by Doheny it looks like there is a tiny bit of texture on the water but pulling into the parking lot at The Strand, the water looks smooth.
Like Saturday, I decide to leave the pack in the car. I do not anticipate hypothermia in the cards for today. As I walk down the stairs I have some minor trepidation about the surf and decide to just not pay attention to those thoughts or at least don’t provide them with any care and feeding. Once I see the beach, it looks pretty much as it did on the cams. There is surf, and indeed some nice surf, but it doesn’t look at all scary.
The tide is in the low 3’s but there is still no sand to walk on - just cobble. I take the “low road” on the cobble and it takes me a little longer than usual to reach my take off point as I try to find decent footing. It really is lovely here as the noon sun shimmers on the water’s surface. Catalina sits obvious on the distant horizon with just a smudge of dirty looking haze over the water around it. I hobble into the water and start swimming just as soon as I am about thigh deep, which is very soon. I swim through some very mushy white water and once I reach the sand bar break, a set comes and I dive beneath a couple waves just as they break. I can feel the lip of one hit my but, but it does not manage to suck be back under. All in all it is an easy swim past the surfline and I have no anxiety over the trip back at the end.
At first the water feels about the same as Saturday which was pretty darn tolerable (59 or 60), but I must say that there were several sections today, and some fairly long, that felt down right pleasant. It would feel like I was in 65 degree territory for several minutes and then back to 59 for a bit. Nothing at all to complain about in January. On the contrary - a rare blessing. Can we just keep the dial right here until late Spring please? Asking for a friend.
The entire southern haul to the headlands I am just basking in the pleasantness of the water and enjoying this warm Winter day. The water lies flat and smooth in front of my face and it is a light shade of blue mirroring the afternoon light. I’m far offshore by the time I reach the point. I’m pretty sure this is because the surf break has moved so far out that my initial swim past it takes my out quite a bit further. The large rocks that usually look so far away from the bluff appear pretty close right now. I wade here and watch some waves pound against the cliffside.
I turn around and head back north. The water temperature maintains its waxing and waning warmth up until the very end. As I look to the horizon I can see the building waves approach me. They are deceptively steep. When I first see them it looks as though they could break right in front of me but by the time they pass under me they are just a speed bump.
Half way up the beach my hand hits something solid. I stop to see what it is and it’s a lobster buoy. As always, I am amazed at how it is that these two specs in the ocean, me and it, manage to find each other and collide. At the northern end near Salt Creek, I watch the waves breaking further up and can hear the unintelligible voices of the surfers. I noticed on the way down the stairs that the waves were breaking way out past the point in front of the lifeguard tower. Looking south I can see large white explosions hit the southern bluffs. The white contrasts against the blue of the water and sky and the brown-grey of the rock.
Well I’m heading for home now. Sadly no Orca sightings. There are fewer spectator boats out today. I read a post on a Dana Point Facebook group today talk about the crowds of watercraft looking for whales over the weekend and being in violation of wildlife watching guidelines and moving way too close to the dolphins and whales.
As I swim back in through the surf, it is still pretty small stuff out here. I get to a point where I can feel my fingers graze the bottom and I stand up to take a picture but then resume swimming because I know it is just a rocky trough between here and the shore. I swim to just a couple feet from the water’s edge. The tide is now in the low 2’s and there is a smattering of sand that I manage to find here and there but it’s still mostly a cobble scramble. Mmm…that sounds like a delightful breakfast dish.
As I walk up the asphalt road leading to the stairs, a guy exits the Niguel Shores parking lot and tells me I am crazy and then asks, “are you crazy?” I admit that I myself harbor a fair amount of uncertainty about this. He asks if it is cold and I explain that it is actually pretty darn pleasant given the late January date. We part ways and I immensely enjoy the walk up to the car in this warm sun. It’s like August has swung by for a visit.
