Running Aground

I leave a little after 11:30. The temperature has not quite broken into the 70’s today but it’s pretty close. The sky is clear and it’s a beautiful day. I’m looking at the weather app on my phone and I see sun today and tomorrow but then its off and on rain for the next week. I want to try again for tomorrow but if I can’t, this could be the last swim for over a week.

When I get to the parking lot at The Strand there is a bit of a breeze but it is super pleasant. Yet again, I don’t feel the need to bring my pack down with me to the beach today.

The tide is at about 4 feet when I get to the shore and the surf is down a notch or two from yesterday. I scramble again on this cobble beach taking baby steps to get to my take off spot which is just at the end of the cobble where it gives way to a somewhat sandy beach again. I’m thinking to myself as I struggle on these rocks that it might not be a bad idea today to swim all the way to the ramp today for the finish. The rocks are a little sketchy there but the surf is more gentle and the tide will be higher than yesterday so I should be able to manage.

The water right here at the shore looks clear and beautiful. I walk just a few feet further north so I’m in sand. Oh that sand feels good on the bottom of my feet compared to that rock which seems to dig right into the tender spots at the center of the soles of my feet.

I walk into the water and a guy just 30 feet or so further up the beach is looking at me and also gets in. It’s as though he was just waiting for me to get in to validate that such a thing is doable. I swim out through the gentle surf. I reach the sandbar and then dive under a couple more waves. I think I’m past the surfline and keep swimming out but then another outside set rolls in and I dive under these waves just before they break.

Ok I think I’m in the clear now. I’m feeling good and the water is nice. It’s not exactly warm but after that 57 degree water in the second and third weeks of the month, this feels pretty delightful. I decide to swim north today. I have not gone north in months because it’s not the best route for cold water. My usual route that stays here at the Strand allows me to end early if I get too cold but when I swim north into Salt Creek, it’s just an out and back course so once I am out, I have to come all the way back. However I don’t think I need to worry about any of that today. If yesterday is any indication of today’s water temperature, and I think it is, I’ll be just fine.

As soon as I am past the surf, this hypothesis is confirmed. The water feels good and like yesterday, there are vast swaths where I feel “almost” warm. I feel like I am balancing on this edge between warm and cold. My mind focuses on keeping myself upright at its very center. If I find myself grasping for the warmth that is not here or fearing a cold that is more intense than what is here, then I fall over the side, but if I can just stay with the water as it is, I manage to maintain an acceptable level of equanimity.

I pass up the lifeguard tower and venture into Salt Creek. I’m trying to keep well outside the point break but not too far. Once past the point, I keep my sights on the Monarch beach club and swim directly for it. I watch the horizon for the entire first half of the swim as I try to remain on the aforementioned edge. I can make out a glimmer of the bottom of the ocean here and watch the faint shadows of rock and kelp pass underneath me. The light of the day seems to grow more dim as time passes. There is a haze overhead stealing some of the golden air and replacing it with a silver hue.

I’m about in between the last bathrooms and the beach club - just in front of the golf coarse - and it is time to turn around. I stare south at the iconic point below the Ritz. I love this view that reveals both that point and the larger Dana Point below the headlands. It’s a landscape vast and empty. It’s teaming with more life than I can imagine but not many humans here at all in the water.

The water still feels very manageable. Some of that early warm glow is wearing off but I’m not concerned. I feel the energy of the cold water coursing through my body. This is not just a meditative visualization exercise. It is a real and tangible feeling. There is nothing woo woo about it (not that I’m anti-woo woo). I love watching the flow of this electrical current move through me. It grounds me to right where I am. It makes me feel connected to this ocean as if it is communicating in some kind of wordless language. What is it trying to say? If I can stay on top of this edge, perhaps I’ll find out.

Looking north, I can see sets of waves roll in beyond the lifeguard tower. On the way south, I pause a couple times and I think just maybe I hear a puffing sound. Orca? Dolphin? No. I see nothing. Then as I pass the Ritz point, I hear the tinny sound of a motor and it is a small and fast boat whizzing just inshore of me.

I’m getting close now. I’m about in front of my usual finish spot and I see a Stand Up Paddleboarder. I keep moving in the direction of the ramp in the hopes of avoiding the cobble shore. Fortunately the surf seems even gentler than when I started. The water is super murky and I can barely see the rocks that are just inches beneath me. I’m now just a few feet from the shore but I’m hovering just over these large and oddly shaped rocks and it’s too awkward to stand. Then a set of small waves come in and I literally run aground. Oh man…there are a few people hanging about the edge of the ramp and that must have looked pitiful.