Water Damage

I left the house a little after 10:45. It’s turning out to be a pretty perfect morning. The sun is shining with some scattered clouds spread out on the horizon. It’s hovering just on the edge of something that feels almost warm. I feel like after Friday’s lovely swim last week, someone hit the “pause” button, the rain, wind and clouds had their moment, and now we are ready to resume where we left off. Until tomorrow that is, when the rain is expected to return.

When I get to the beach it is approaching low tide and already just below 0 feet. It’s a beautiful scene. Dry sand meets a small channel of scattered rocks and then several feet of very shallow water less than ankle deep that heads into small surf. There is someone sitting on the rocks where I usually set my pack so I walk just a little further up the beach and hope I can find my pack here when I am done. I’m pretty confident that I will.

I walk into the water and notice a narrow sort of bridge of sand that avoids the rocky trough. I take that path to the shallows and then walk for what feels like quite a ways until I get to a swimmable depth. I lean into a wave and I feel cold rush through me. It does feel a notch or two colder than it did Friday but nothing dire. Over the course of the swim, I travel through the typical warm and cool spots. Some of the cool spots feel particularly cool today which makes the warm spots feel downright luscious when they show up.

I’m using my older lower resolution camera today. My main camera was officially pronounced dead this weekend. Water damage. This is the second time this has happened and it was a replacement sent to me by the manufacturer. I get the sense that although the product specs claim “water proof up to 16 feet,” they may not have tested for prolonged ocean use to the extent to which I use it. The manufacturer has agreed to refund me upon returning it. Very fair. I’ve already ordered a new camera due to arrive Friday. This one will be from a new manufacturer. It has the same resolution and I am hoping for better quality.

Today’s entire swim is terrific. The sun is fully shining and the water has some activity but is relatively smooth with the gentle winds. As I get closer to the southern end of the beach, I feel the intensity of the surf slightly increase. There is a dominant south swell with a north swell in the mix as well. Both will be waning through the day.

At the south end I take a few pictures and when I put my head back in the water I see a small school of fish. It seems like it has been a while since I have seen fish. A local fisherman once told me that the fish are here all year but tend to go dormant in the Winter.

About half to two thirds back up the beach, the cold starts to intensify particularly in my arms. I try to relax my mind into the cold and place my awareness upon exactly how this feels. It doesn’t actually feel terrible. The terrible is all in my imagination. If I can exist in what is actually here now, it’s very bearable.

The north bound leg to the edge of Salt Creek point seems to go by rather quickly. I manage to pass prolonged periods of time were I do not feel a need to check on my bearings and just stare out to the western horizon as the water laps my face. Every now and then I feel the assist of the swell behind me. The day feels so bright and blue. I pass through sections of water that look so richly blue. The water itself seems super clear even though I can see nothing except the water and my arms gliding through it.

When I turn around to head back to where I started from, the cold doesn’t seem to diminish so much as it seems just not to matter. What does it matter if I am cold? This whole experience is priceless. I’ll be done soon which is bittersweet. I feel 0 threat of hypothermia setting in over the next 15 minutes. I just take in the shore and the sun. I also am drawn to this big tractor on the sand directly in front of my eastward facing gaze. I’ve seen this tractor now for almost a week and I’m very curious what is going on.

Soon I am back in the shallows and I pick myself up and walk to the sand. The sun feels pretty great but I must admit that if I had some sort of temperature control, I would dial it up a few degrees. I find my pack without any problem and when I near the ramp I think I notice that the two large rocks that usually sit here - one of which resembles the planet Jupiter with reddish and brownish horizontal striations - have moved. This must be the work of that tractor I figure.

I walk up the stairs and I wish this bluff was about a thousand feet higher because I don’t want to stop and would rather keep walking.