I’ll Pay for the Fish

I leave at about 9:15. Skies are cloudy or so they seem as I leave. However, I turn left on to Golden Lantern because I need to hit the gas station on the way to the beach and over the coarse of putting gas in my tank and finally getting to the beach, the clouds have almost entirely left. Well isn’t this a pleasant surprise.

The sun hits my skin as I get out of my car and the magic begins. There looks to be more cloud cover on the south side on the beach. This solves my most pressing query at the forefront of my mind right now: which direction to swim today. I will swim north - into the sun.

I can feel my insides gradually relax as I come down the stairs. I am recalibrating myself with my updated weather expectations. I had myself all prepared for a cloudy swim and just wasn’t ready for such delightful conditions. I reach the sand and the sand is warm. It wraps around my feet and squishes between my toes. All ten of my toes find this very enjoyable.

There is someone fishing right at my usual takeoff spot. I start just a few yards short of him. Ever since I could see the surf, it has looked like a lake here. The surf report says a swell will be building today but I don’t see anything. Then just as I start walking out into the water a set comes through that looks bigger than anything I have seen in the last several minutes. They all break in knee deep water so it’s tough to dive under them and the first one nearly knocks me over.

I’m soon past all of this and the water feels great. Skies are blue all over except for a thin strip of cloud that lines the horizon and a hazy mass tucked into the southern edge of the beach. There is a tall ship way offshore making its way north. I’m guessing this is one of the boats in this last weekend’s maritime festival at the Ocean Institute. Maybe it’s now returning to wherever it is that it hails from.

I want to take all that the water is giving me this morning because it is so good. Every fluid ounce is infused with goodness. The sun shines its warmth right into it and this warmth seems to be limitless. There is no need to ration out the blessings here. It’s pretty much an all you can take kind of a situation. I open my heart and allow myself to feel the water all over my body.

I had all these terrible dreams last night. It’s the second night in the last several days where my mind is filled with these visions that I know represent some deep fear from my smaller self. Some dreams, I’m in some situation where I am about to be consumed by disaster and in others I seem to search and search and search in vain to get to some place that I don’t even quite know what it is. The whole dream is just a sort of sequence of setbacks where I am constantly redirected and just can’t quite find my way.

Things are different here. This water is life giving and not life threatening like some of the water in my dream last night. There is a rich blue all around me in both the sky and the ocean that seems to almost have a life of its own. This is water that I can move through. Here I am a willing participant and not a helpless victim. In these waters I have agency.

I swim past the surfers in front of the Ritz. I wonder if I will ever spend a night in that building. I mean it’s not like I need to. I have my own bed not much more than a mile from the hotel, and it’s not a bad bed either. However I have this fantasy of eating a meal and spending a night here one day. It’s not exactly a “bucket list” worthy fantasy. I’ll be totally not disappointed if this never happens, but you know, it would be kind of nice.

I make it to the Monarch Bay Beach Club. Ok. Eating here is in the bucket list. This building has been here ever since I was a kid and has gone through a couple of lifetimes itself. In the 80s it was part of a private community and eventually owned by the St. Regis hotel and is now owned by the Waldorf Astoia. Doesn’t that sound fancy? Waldorf Astoria? Say it. Say it with a british accent. Say it really slow and draw out the vowels. It’s always been in my back yard and yet off limits. So one day I’m gonna sit on one of it’s damn chairs and grab one of its forks and put it into a big old expensive fish and drop that thing right into my mouth. No one is going to look at me and think, “Oh my GOD. Who does he think he is?” Nope. I’ll pay for the fish and we will all quietly go our peaceful and separate ways.

Time to head back. And Oh my GOD this view is so beautiful. I pull my goggles off of my eyes and rub the insides with my thumbs and then put them back on and dip my head back in the water. Wait…wow! Hey, this water is super clear. It’s hard to realize that when the goggles are foggy. This lasts a few minutes before the goggles fog back up. I proceed south and everything is amazing. I enjoy watching the kelp down near the ocean floor. I try to wipe out my goggles every now and then so I can enjoy the great visibility.

Once I get close to the Salt Creek snack area, I see what looks like a large school of fish just a couple feet above the floor. It looks like they are all hibernating or something. They are really close together and perfectly still. I stop and rub out my goggles and have another look. Oh my GOD. It is massive. Seriously. I look east and the school just goes on and on as for as I can see. I have to get a closer look at this so I dive down several times. This is super cool looking. It’s more of a hoard than a school of fish. I’m not exactly sure what kind of fish they are. They are solid dark grey and probably about a foot long.

Meanwhile up towards the surface, there are lots of smaller and more translucent fish. I’m guessing Corbina. A little further south I see a single solitary Calico Bass. Eventually just before I reach the surf break in front of the point, the visibility plummets and everything is cloudy all the way back to the end of the swim.

I hit shore and the fisherman who was here when I started is still here. He looks at me and says, “did you see any fish?” I respond, “Heh. You know…”