Swim To the Light!

I sleep in until 6:30 on this Sunday. I take a look at the beach webcams and it looks overcast but I have not opened up my blinds yet. When I do, I can see plenty of blue sky, but it’s more hazy towards the coast. Well hopefully it will burn off soon. Just before walking my dog, I check the cams again and see golden sand. Ah sweet sunlight. I can see the fading haze on the horizon. Really looking forward to this morning’s swim.

I get back from walking Ocean. It’s a little after 8:00. There’s just a couple things I want to do before heading to the beach: some journal writing, which I started doing consistently about 9 months ago and have found to be more helpful than I anticipated, and piano playing. I browse the Salt Creek web cams and see a very well defined bank of clouds on the horizon. Uh oh. I hope this is that receding haze but it sure looks like incoming fog. I’m raising the internal yellow flag and keeping the webcam open as I grab my stack of printer paper that I use as a journal. I’m just about a half page in and the webcam footage advances and I can clearly see this is incoming fog.

No no no no! Ok. Let’s remain calm. Let’s just set down the journal. I finished my first thought which was actually quite helpful and I was about to change topics that likely would have just led to ruminating blabber and may have made me depressed anyways. I forgo the piano playing - that’s a “nice to have,” but there is just no time right now. We need to get to that water right now.

I grab my stuff and head out the door. Of course this is ludicrous - thinking I can actually beat the fog. There is no way. From the car I continue to eye it and it has now reached the beach. After passing Blue Lantern on the drive down Selva, I can see the mist hovering right at about Pacific Coast Highway, my favorite road in the whole wide world. My heart sinks. Still, I am determined to swim. The surf is pretty small and the water is not cold. The fog is the only hazard I have to contend with. I can swim close to shore and deal with the surf. Whatever it takes to get my swim in.

I park and get my stuff settled and head to the stairs. I am walking down briskly but the fog is here. However, I can see a good bit of water and I’m feeling optimistic that this is all doable. There is a pretty good breeze blowing from the north west putting some texture on the water. The air is cool but by no means cold. I’m trying to decide which direction to swim. I originally wanted to swim north to Monarch but question swimming around the little point between Strands and Salt Creek in fog. However as I scan the coast, the north looks brighter. I can see, albeit dimly and very fuzzy, that point that separates Dana Point from Three Arch Bay. Dana Point to my south is just a dark shadow. I decide to swim north. When in doubt, swim to the light!

I get to the shore and can clearly see lifeguard tower zero in front of the Ritz. I feel confident about getting around that. No problemo. There are pelicans flying over the shallows here and one dive bombs for fish. I just love watching these birds. Another is flying right in front of me as I get in the water. There is lots of loose seaweed here lingering near the ocean floor. There really are hardly any waves to speak of and certainly none to be concerned about. This is all going to be fine.

I start swimming north. The water definitely feels cooler today than my last few swims during the week, but not prohibitively cold. It’s all good. I keep heading towards that lifeguard tower and soon I am there. Everything is slightly fuzzy but otherwise clear. I actually think things may be righting themselves here. As I swim towards the Monarch Bay Beach Club, I can start to see the orb of the sun over my shoulder every time I raise my head to breathe. I see blue sky above the clouds to the west.

Occasionally I stop and Dana Point still looks pretty darn dark and shadowy. I can clearly see the point at Monarch but the sky looks very dark out beyond. It’s just impossible to predict which direction things will go. It could all clear up or fog over in a matter of minutes. It could even do both. I could swim in and out of thick patches all the way down the beach. I’m just going to keep swimming and I’ll move closer to shore if I need to but all looks fine for now.

I can feel and see wakes of ocean moving all around me. The water is alive. The predominant swell today is coming from the south but the wind is out of the northwest. The water still feels brisk but I am happy to be in it. I have music playing in my head which I always love. I can’t tell if it is something on my Spotify feed or something I have been noodling on the piano the last couple days. It might be a mix of both. It goes well with what is happening around me.

I see the beach club getting closer and closer and becoming clearer and clearer. I can hear the breeze blowing over the surface of the water. I stop and look to the shore. Just a little further. I want to be right in front of that building. Why? I don’t know. I just do. So I will, and I keep swimming until I feel like I am there and here I am. I take in the 360 degree view. Not much has changed or has it? The northern horizon looks like it might be darker. Hard to say. I hear happy screaming coming from the shore. Sounds like a group of kids.

Time to turn around. At least now I can see the shore as I breathe. Or can I? Almost immediately after starting the swim back south, the fog makes a comeback. Soon the shore is just a brown shadow. Well, at least it is a shadow and not complete gray oblivion. I can work with a shadow. I veer inland just a bit to get closer to the shore.

The ocean bottom grows more clear as I swim into shallower water. I’m still past the waves and I’d like to keep it that way. The beach has lost all of its detail. I see no buildings or shrubbery - just gray that becomes brown. I wonder if I can make it all the way back to my starting point without totally losing the shore. I sure am going to try. I really don’t feel at all nervous with today’s surf level. I am pretty sure I will make it.

I love a clear sunny swim, but this fog adds an element of adventure that I really appreciate. It keeps my mind occupied with good things. I’m thinking of all the little microclimate factors that are constantly changing around me. I am here alone in the great Pacific Ocean. I have a place I want to get to and I need to pay some attention, a little more than usual today, in order to get there. It’s just enough adventure to make it more fun than scary. I like it.

I feel like I am moving faster than I was when I was swimming the other direction. I credit the breeze. I am seeing surfers now as I enter the more popular surf breaks on the beach. The surfers are close - practically right here. I am probably just 10 feet in front of them.

I stop to look around. When I lift up my goggles, things look a little less foggy. I can clearly see the lifeguard tower at the point. That’s my primary point of concern and I can see now that it is all totally good. I can’t see Dana Point to the south, but I don’t need to. The sun is well hidden now by this low cloud cover, but I can still see its light shining on the surface of the water. It’s beautiful.

Soon I am crossing the point and home feels close because it is. I watch a huge flock of cormorants, I think, flying north. I wonder what they think of the fog. Do they care at all? Do they even notice? Or do they pay it even more mind than I do?

I keep swimming south and I am basically home free now. There is a guy fishing from the shore right about where I plan to exit so I swim just a little further south to avoid his line. I’d say it is a little foggier now than it was when I started. I am feeling this inner sense of peace and joy knowing I was able to cover the distance I did. That was all so wonderful.