The Only Romantic Spot on the Coast

Car has been in the shop making it tough to get to the beach. This morning I am informed it is ready and I run 4 miles to the shop off Pico in San Clemente. I drive home, switch into my trunks and head to the Strand. It’s noon, it’s beautiful and there are no clouds in the sky. My phone says it is 66 degrees but it feels like 76.

I get to the parking lot and there is just a bit of texture on the water. The forecast isn’t calling for much in the way of wind at all today. It’s not supposed to surpass 5 knots all day.

As I walk down the stairs, I can see the tones of deep blue and scattered dark splotches indicating clear water. The surf has come down and I’m hoping that will bring back some of the great visibility we had a week ago.

I know the water temperature has come down a couple degrees since my last swim but I’m really not bothered about that right now. I’m just eager to get in that water and I’m feeling like I can do cold.

I can see the beach now and the tide is lower than I have seen it in a while. It is less than a foot and approaching a 0 foot low around the time I finish. The beach looks so inviting. I’m walking on the sand and the shallow water is indeed very clear.

I walk into the water and yeah it is colder but manageable. I start swimming before long. For some reason my forearms feel very cold - everything just below the elbows. Also I broke one of my lower right teeth a couple days ago and I can feel the cold water touch the nerve and radiate through the right side of my head. Fortunately after a couple minutes, this all calms down. My arms, all of them, feel fine and my head feels normal.

The water is so clear. The visibility has definitely come back. I see a large school of fish swimming about 10 feet below me. I dive down and as I approach, they disperse.

I’m swimming south. No doubt about it, the water is colder today but I pass through patches that are not too bad. In fact, it is all not so bad. I can sense the cold but my body feels good and I am happy to be right where I am.

I’m getting close to the headlands. Did you know that back in the 20’s (the 1920’s), what we now call the Dana Point headlands were called the San Juan point headlands? Richard Henry Dana in his book Two Years Before the Mast, referred to this spot as the only romantic spot on the California coast. Personally, I wonder how he defined “romantic” or how close he was paying attention. I’ve seen quite a bit of the California coast and sure this is pretty great but so is most of the rest in my opinion.

With the low tide, there are lots of exposed rocks below the cliffs here. There is this invisible line just outside of these rocks where the waves break. I am treading water about 10 feet further out. The waves break and submerge the rocks and then the water surges outward, exposing the rocks again, the wave builds and then breaks again.

I’m trying to get a picture in the single second between the rocks getting exposed and the wave rising and hiding my view of those rocks. It’s not easy.

I turn around and head back north. The early afternoon sun is just above me and shines right on the water creating a glare that makes the water feel alive. Then I pivot my neck and I’m looking into the water. The light changes so abruptly that it takes a while for my eyes to orient themselves to the detail of the rocks and kelp in the darker environment.

At the south end of the beach, there is some of the best under water scenery of the whole beach. Then the bottom quickly becomes sandy and remains this way about a quarter of the way up the beach. The remainder of the beach is a nice mix of white sand with interspersed rocks covered with kelp.

My body fluctuates between cold and comfortable. I get cold and then realize the cold and then suddenly realize I’m not all that cold. I’m putting quite a bit of effort into the swim. The colder water may be a contributing factor here.

I’m approaching the northern end of the beach and the tops of the kelp stalks glow in the sun light that pierces the surface of the water. It looks as though Christmas has arrived here and the underwater trees are all lit up.

It’s time to turn around again and I look south with a view of the entire stretch of the Strand. It looks exquisite. As I stare the water rises and falls into a rhythm. One moment I can see the beach and the next moment I don’t.

The last bit of the swim goes fast. The tide is even lower now and the edge of the water is not much further than the rocks on the floor which is normally well past the surf but is now on the edge of the surf.

I start to walk toward the dry sand and I am almost toppled over by a wave that breaks right behind me. I head up the stairs and bask in the afterglow of the swim. It takes my core a bit longer to warm up today. Winter is coming but not quite here yet.