Water Water Water

Once again, a stellar morning in Dana Point - clear blue sky and no clouds whatsoever to be found. I’m heading out a little after 7:30 and hoping to beat the offshore winds that are predicted to pick up rapidly starting around 9:00. We are getting our first dose of Santa Ana winds for the season. The forecast calls for 16 knots but they are offshore and I can’t seem to remember what that means for surface conditions. If it were a onshore or a southerly wind, it would be pretty darn choppy. If this forecast holds, I should just miss it.

I pass by Doheny on the way to the Strand and I do a double take watching a set of waves that look to be overhead which is particularly big for Doheny. There are a couple swells today. The primary ssw swell peaked yesterday afternoon and is on its way down. The morning surf report posted 4-5 feet for strands. We also have another imminent deep high tide that will likely suck some life out of it. After seeing that set, I’m wondering what will be rolling in at Strands.

I park and then jog down the stairs because I am running a bit behind. It is colder out than yesterday. I get to the beach and tide is just as high as yesterday with the waves frequently rushing up to the rocks. Waves don’t look anything like Doheny. It looks about the same as yesterday with waves peaking just as they reach the shore.

So I come to a near run to meet these waves head on and dive right into their wake before they fully break. The water feels great. What a spectacular October this has been. From what I remember, last year was similar. I don’t think I have been uncomfortably cool all month and there are only a few days left until November.

I head south and everything about this swim is delightful. The light coming over the bluff makes the cliffs look like a solid black shadow over an electric blue body of water that expands out to forever. The water is perfectly comfortable. Eventually as I approach the cliffs at the southern end of the beach it seems like I see shadows below the water as though I am swimming up to a group of shallow rocks. Funny - I don’t remember any being here in this spot. I then realize it’s just the shadow from the cliffs making the water below starkly darker than the water north of the shadow.

In this shade, the features both above and below the water regain their detail. I can make out the grooves and contours on the cliffs. I can see the floating pieces of seaweed spread out all throughout the water, some large, some small. They float like zombies patroling a desolate, dystopian, waste land of dark empty water.

Heading back north, I stop every now and then to check out a buoy or a bird or some random thing that pops into my periphery that just ends up being a stray piece of seaweed or a bump of water on the water. Each of these stops is like emerging into some enchanted and sacred space. Is this even real? There is no one but the birds here and no sound but that of the waves that are now far inshore of me. All around me is water water water and pristine morning light.

I finish up the remainder of the swim. It is time to head to shore. I let a larger wave pass me up and when I see there is nothing left in the set, I make for the shore. I’m only about 10 feet from the sand and these 4 to 5 feet faces gently rise and then fall on the shore. The water level is knee deep one moment and then overhead the next. Just when I think I am good to head for the stairs, the force of the surging water pulls me back out until I fully submit to the building wave and push myself back to open ocean and into the barely pre-breaking wave. This happens about three times until I am finally released by the ocean to go about my day.