Death Star
Both yesterday and today, the sky has actually been clear at first light in the morning. I love this. Are we finally putting some distance between ourselves and the June gloom? I know better than to hold my breath, but I’d sure like to think that we are. Then as I finish up the last of my morning meetings a little after 9:00 (they started at 5:30), I’m seeing what I think may look like fog on the web cams. Noooo!
I assume this is from the colder water meeting the warm air. We have had strong onshore winds all day the last couple of days that has led to a dip in water temperatures. The Camp Pendleton buoys are at 61 and 63. Still, I’m not ready to call off the swim yet. I can still see the beach and Monarch point on the cams, but it is clear there is an approaching fog bank from some of the Salt Creek cams. I better leave sooner than later before this gets worse.
As I approach The Strand from Selva, I can see the clouds hovering over the water all the way up to the beach. However these just look like really low and vaporous clouds but not patchy fog. I can see the horizon and just the tiniest strip of blue light squeezed in between the water and clouds of in the far western distance.
It still feels kind of sunny from the parking lot but it feels totally cloudy from the beach. I dip my feet in the water and it is definitely colder than my last couple swims. I’m looking forward to a good long run of 70+ water temps. Even if the water is at 61 now, this time of the year, the water could easily rise 10 degrees in just a few days or less given the right conditions - warm air and light winds.
Along with the water temps, surf is down as well. At least that is one less thing to worry about. I get past the smaller shore break and then start swimming. I can feel the cold in my forearms and jaw and a little in the top of my head. It’s not quite hypothermic but I am definitely feeling this. Once I pass the lifeguard station on my way south, the water seems to warm a bit to a point I would consider comfortable. I don’t know if it is me or the water that is warming but I am happy to be comfortable. There are a couple brief extra cold patches but its not too bad.
At the south end of the beach, I come across this swathe of foamy water. I don’t think anything is breaking here. There is a distinct smell to the water. I’ve experienced this several times and don’t know what it is and can’t really describe the smell. It’s slightly unpleasant but not terrible either. However it’s kind of cool to place my eyes just above the edge of the surface and pretend the foam is some kind of snow or ice and I am making my way through the arctic tundra.
I turn around and head north and make much better time than my last swim thanks to the fact of the lighter winds and thus weaker current. It all feels pretty great - even the cold spots. I truly enjoy being out here in the water and feeling all the feels around me and believe me there are a lot. I feel supported by something far more expansive than just my own body. I continually take note: this is where I am…this is where I am. I have to remind myself of this because it feels so odd to be here and it helps to keep my mind from wandering somewhere else. Am I really here? Wasn’t I just in my living room? I don’t remember being encased in water back there.
Eventually I get to Big Bob, the northern most jr. guard buoy and what has been my turn around land mark the last several swims. As I pause and take in the view from here, I see another buoy way way out. I wonder could this be the Death Star buoy that I have been hearing the jr. guards talk about? I have not been able to locate it previously and asked the @ocjuniorguards instagram account where it is. They responded that it had gotten unclipped from its anchor and lost and they would be replacing it soon. Maybe this is the replacement. Of coarse, I cannot NOT check it out.
It probably takes about 6 or 7 minutes to swim to the buoy and, sure enough, it is indeed the Death Star! I’m so excited. The buoy is very large compared to the others. I also feel very far from shore. Because I am far from shore. I take several pictures for purposes of documentation and verification. Then I plot a course for the bottom of the asphalt road which is where I will try to make land fall. From here, this puts me on a trajectory that is close to due east.
It takes a good while but I finally make it and am exhilarated from the longer and adventurous swim. I mean, I just visited the death star and I’m not dead. It’s also much sunnier than it was when I started and that is always more than welcome. As I make my way back to the stairs and pass the lifeguard station, I see the water temperature posted at 58. No way. It is not 58. At no time do I recall feeling 58 degree water. I’m glad that was not posted when I was coming down.
