Later start today. I leave at 12:45 and oh what a difference 6 hours can make. It’s 66 degrees outside - down right warm. The skies are clear with some scattered and very thin clouds here and there just to make things interesting. Wind is very calm especially for this time of day. I’m looking at the Strands web cam and the water looks very pleasant.

I have to slightly open my windows on the drive to the beach to cool things down. When I get to the parking lot, my eyes confirm what I was seeing on the cams before I left, the water is smooth. It looks like an idyllic afternoon here - not a bad start to December.

As I walk down the stairs, I feel like I am staring at some kind of a postcard. The light is shining on the water and creating a lovely afternoon glow. There are a few boats here and there and Catalina sits in a light haze in the distance.

The view just keeps getting better as I get to the shore. The swell has calmed way down now since Friday. The surface of the water is a deep blue and as the small waves move inshore, they carry the electric glow of the sun above. I brought my pack with extra clothes even though I really don’t think I’ll need it today. The tide is quite low and I walk from the water up to the rocks to set down my things and then walk back to start the swim.

The water feels pretty cool but also pretty much about what I expect. It’s fine. I start to swim and there is no head ache today. The water starts off fairly clear but begins to get pretty murky once I pass the little lifeguard hut. Then something wonderful happens - the water warms. It’s not 70 degrees or anything like that but it is well outside the hypothermic zone. It feels nice. It really is amazing what “nice” becomes in December. 61 degrees becomes decadent.

About halfway between the lifeguard hut and the south end of the beach - just past the middle stairs - I run into a floating branch. This sort of startles me and I stop and as I lift my head out of the water I hear this sound that is almost like a guttural human utterance. I’m looking around for the human and then I see dolphins.

I wade here for nearly 5 minutes watching all of these dolphins swim by. There were quite a few. They are just moseying along northbound. Some are just 20 feet away and some are maybe 30 to 40 feet out. They emerge in pairs and trios. I struggle to catch them on camera but they rise and sink so quickly that I don’t know what I am managing to capture on disk. Whatever it is, what I am seeing is super cool. I can see the notches from wear and tear in their fins. I hear their snorts and short exhales. Other than that, they are completely silent.

Once it seems like they have all passed, I continue the swim to the south end. I soon reach my rock and there is a pack of surfers nearby. With the low tide, the rocks stand super tall above the surface. I hover about the area looking around. I thought the surf might be small enough to do some exploring but not quite. It’s also not very clear at all. In fact I would say that it is very much not clear. We must still have some red tide lingering. As I am floating near the rocks I feel my feet touch the sand. I’m surprised how shallow it is here. I’m not sure if I have ever been here when it was so shallow.

Eventually I figure it is time to head back north. I swim and I swim and I swim and I thought maybe the red tide might subside but it does not. However, the water remains comfortable as well and that is most welcome and delightfully unexpected.

The northern half of the swim is filled with thick kelp and I can hardly see the vines and leaves right in front of my face. It is almost unsettling but I have swam here so many times that I feel pretty safe and secure.

It is such a beautiful day out. The sun waxes and wanes over sparse passing clouds. One moment it is above the clouds which creates a silverish metallic reflection on the water as they mirror the illuminated clouds above. The next moment I can hardly see the horizon for the sun shining directly above it. The points both to the north and south of me are crisp and clearly visible. This is a good place to be. It may be December, but a swim in the ocean is still a perfect way to spend an hour outside.

I’m getting closer to my northern terminus in front of the bathrooms and soon here I am. I stop and look around and I must say the surface of the water is kind of disgusting. I know I have been waxing poetic about the beauty all around me here and I mean every word but suddenly my adjectives change their tone and I feel a need to move to somewhere else.

I wonder if I swim closer to shore if the water quality might improve so as I swim back to my finishing point, I aim myself eastward. This seems to work. I can now make out an ocean floor and the arms of the twisting kelp tentacles start to take shape. I only hope I am being cleansed of the icky debris that may have accumulated on my body earlier.

I am getting closer and closer to shore and I can see the waves break to my left and soon one feels like it could almost carry me with it as it curls. I swim just a little further out but I am so close. Soon I am swimming due east to finish the swim.

The tide has come down even further since I started and not at all far south of me are the exposed rocks in front of the main surf break and medium sized waves are breaking over and through them. It is a lovely lovely sight with the light of autumn written all over it. I head to the rocks to collect my backpack and the entire walk up the stairs is a delight.