The Lights are On

I wasn’t necessarily planning to swim today, but the stars just seemed to align themselves that way. Nearly clear skies, no meetings, and warm water - how can I NOT swim?

The real tipping point here came when the skies started to clear at about 6:30. There is just a light hazy marine layer now on the horizon so for all intents and purposes, it’s sunny, which has become a rather rare occurrence over the mornings of the past few months.

I leave at about 7:45 and it is a lovely drive up PCH. Doheny provides a very attractive glimpse into my near future.

I get to the parking lot and the water looks smooth and it just feels like someone finally turned on the lights here after accidentally turning them off on Friday. We even got a small amount of sprinkles briefly yesterday.

I head down the stairs and wonder what the water will feel like. I think I have a pretty good idea but my mind likes to play tricks with me and convince me that some upwelling event occurred overnight bringing temps down 10 degrees.

I hit the sand and head directly for the water and things still feel great on the feet.

I get to my spot and head out into the water. There is still a “coolness factor” in the initial plunge. I try to remember March. How did I manage that I wonder when it was at least 15 degrees colder. That all feels a world away now.

I start swimming south and I exhale out the cold and soon it is all goodness.

What a gorgeous day. I can see the south end buoy in the distance as I approach the point.

When I reach the south end, the tide is low and surf remains very low. I spend a couple minutes swimming around the big rock that is my southern landmark. It is covered with muscles.

I head north and I must be at least 30 feet further inland passing the buoy than on the southbound trip, but I keep finding myself veering west and before too long I am a good ways out. I have not seen it since I started swimming here in recent years, but I remember spear fishing out here in the early 80’s as a kid, there is a shelf a good ways past the surf where the depth dips down about another 10 feet. I am pretty sure I am past that point now and it just looks like I am staring into a blue chasm.

I see a small school of Calico Bass swimming just below me and between the huge stalks of kelp here. I keep swimming north and I keep seeing them. Maybe they are different ones. Are they following me?

I make it to Big Bob and I almost contemplate swimming on beyond the lifeguard tower but decide to go ahead and turn around. Work beckons.

I return on a diagonal heading toward my modern future home on the bluff and exit the water a few houses south of it. I spot a Sting Ray skimming the bottom as I am walking in and try to keep my eyes out and shuffle my feet to avoid a sting which I hear is extremely unpleasant.

It’s a great walk back to the car. The same car is parked next to me that was here when I got here. It has a windshield guard up and towels over the driver and passenger windows and has been running all of this time. Weird.