Dana Point at its Very Best

Ok I know I said in yesterday’s post that when the days get this good, you just can’t compare them, but I’m going to have to say that today was better than yesterday even though yesterday was about as good as it gets. The air was more clear and the water more smooth today. I could actually see Catalina Island from my very low vantage point. Also, there were more birds and there were fishing boats that I was close enough to to watch them swap out their lobster cages.

Should I just call that a post and be done? Sorry I can’t. I must allow myself this catharsis otherwise I my energy could get stuck here and will not be able to make it back into the water.

I left a little before 9:30 and as one might guess from the above, the day is exquisite. Our heat wave peaked yesterday and today is supposed to be cooler but still quite warm. At this time of the day, it is just about as warm as it was yesterday. Through the web cams, the beach looks absolutely amazing. The Monarch Beach cam shows this beautiful pink horizon and the water is just as blue as can be and the sand is golden brown. If you are old enough to remember the “Golden Grahams” commercials, today looks like it has been pulled right from that footage.

I get to the parking lot and there is still a part of me that is not incredibly excited to jump in the water. There is another part that can’t wait. It’s just not like walking into a hot tub. The tub is not hot. However it is really not that cold. I can just see some of my ice swimming social media friends laughing at me and then I know there is the 95% of the world population that would consider this far too cold. So consider me somewhere between that 95 percentile and the .01% ice swimmer population. I know that after a few seconds, the water will be quite comfortable.

As I am thinking of this while I walk down the stairs, I’m wondering how I am going to fare in a couple months when the water will likely be in the 50’s and officially cold. I’ll adjust. I always do. The reward of the swim is always more than worth the cost of entry.

When I reach the actual beach, I am pretty much in awe of what I am looking at. It is absolutely beautiful. That low layer of cloud and fog that was offshore yesterday is nowhere to be seen today. I can easily see Catalina and try to squint to find the casino in Avalon. Hmm. I just can’t seem to make it out. I know it’s there. I can’t wait to see it again. That might very well be my first “trip” as a single person. I’ve been totally itching to go.

Right now, however, who needs to go anywhere? I imagine someone stepping onto this beach who has never been to Dana Point before. They just come for the day and for the rest of their lives they will think of this moment as the happiest moment of their life when they were most at peace with the world. They have seen Dana Point at its very best.

I get in the water and I’d say it is about the same temperature as yesterday - 64ish. Like yesterday it feels like it gets warmer as the swim proceeds which is likely the case as more sun shines on the water’s surface. Also like yesterday, the water is very clear. We really don’t have a lot of these days in the year and they sure are nice when we do. It’s magical to see the water this clear. The kelp and the fish and the rocks are so sharply visible.

I swim north today. I pause now and then and look up and am nearly overcome by what I see. It’s all so exquisite. I swim over a school of fish who don’t seem to care that I am so close. Flocks of pelicans fly over me and I watch them as I raise my head for breath. Some of these flocks just include a few birds but one is absolutely huge and the birds keep coming allowing me time to grab my camera to get a decent shot of the last few passersby.

I pass the lifeguard tower and the Ritz and the Salt Creek snack and shower area and the big green lawn above that. Everything is so bright and lovely and enhanced by this sun. I feel the water around me. I feel the horizon that sits at the end of my sight. I feel the edge of Monarch Bay and it’s trees. I feel all of the lobster trap buoys that are scattered over the surface of the water. My world here consists of just blue water and blue sky. Nothing else is needed. It feels as light and peaceful and free as one could ever hope for out here. I’m sitting here right now as I write all of this. I was in that water less than two hours ago and I am at a loss of words to properly describe what I saw and how I felt and all the little micro flashes of memory and fantasy that crossed in front of my mind’s eye.

It’s never enough to simply describe what I saw. And it’s never enough to describe what I felt. There is no way to capture this experience. Its an interplay between one’s mind and the elements of nature that create a sort of chemical reaction that is something entirely different from either thought or thing. That all said, while I may not be able to effectively communicate it, I can at least re-experience it for myself to some degree and that is definitely something I am grateful for.

What else did I see? I saw a small single calico bass that I dove down to inspect. From in front of the Monarch Bay Beach Club, I looked south and watched a medium sized fishing boat motor right towards me and stop about 75 feet offshore. It pulled up its lobster traps and birds flocked (mainly gulls) all around it. It put down new traps and then carried on north.

At this point I swam back to where I started. I swam and I swam and I swam. I can’t think of anything more to say.