What Just Happened?

Wow. What a swim I had today. So different and unanticipated. I just can hardly wait to talk about it here.

All week, I’ve been uncertain just what the conditions would be like this weekend. My weather app on my phone says it might rain a little on Sunday (today). My news feed says there are two storms coming that may just be end of the world. Surfline, my (and everyone else’s) go to app that provides web cams and all sorts of data around real time and forecasted surf conditions says the models are uncertain. Yesterday, my weather app is showing likely heavy rain in the mid morning and surfline is forecasting a heavy southwest wind all morning and afternoon.

So when I go to bed last night, I’m not sure what the plan will be for today. God knows I need some decent sleep so I do not set an alarm but based of the forecasts, if I do want to swim, it will likely need to be earlier than later. I really want to swim.

I wake up a few minutes after 6:00. I could definitely sleep some more, but I grab my phone and bring up the beach web cams. Oh. The water does not look like a total stormy mess. The wind is on the strong side but it is from the south and not at all from the west as forecasted yesterday. Wave size is healthy but not prohibitive. Water is 67. Next I bring up my weather app and it is not supposed to rain until 9:30. Ok. I have a sense of urgency to get out of bed and get to the beach before things sour.

I practice my usual morning sitting meditation, walk my dog, brush my teeth, get coffee ready so when I get back from my swim I just have to press some buttons and coffee comes flowing like a gift from the heavens. I’m ready to go just a little before 8:00. Things still look good in the sky and at the beach. It’s obvious that it had rained at some point over the night but I’m sure water quality is good. I have zero data to back this up but I put all my faith into it nonetheless.

On the drive to the beach, the clouds are incredible. I can tell this is going to be an amazing swim. It’s not going to be a lazy, sunny love fest, but it’s gonna be uniquely great. There is a chance I could see some rain while in the water and I am actually looking forward to that. I usually avoid the water when it rains due to pollution issues but I just figure it’s ok for the first hour of rain. Again, no data whether this true, just faith. And no, please do not give me your data. I don’t want to see it.

As I pull into the parking lot, I see the Sunday morning swim crew who have finished their swim. This always sets me at ease. Especially on a day like today when surf might be a little big and wind conditions less than benign, seeing others who have done what I am about to do and safely return gives me solace.

The pavement here is slightly wet, but I can actually see a couple holes revealing blue sky in the clouds above. How bad could things possibly be? On the way down the stairs I see the always delightful JJ Flowers and we chat with another person for a couple minutes.

I get to the beach and the tide is on the high side but still plenty enough beach. The clouds are magnificent. The water is far from smooth, but I don’t see any chop (offshore wakes that break and create white water in your face). Waves are present but messy and not at all intimidating. I am ready and I am super glad that I am here.

I get to my usual spot and start to walk into the water. With the higher tide, the waves are breaking closer to shore and it’s not long at all until I am mostly wet and figure I might as well start swimming to get past this surf. So I do that and dive under the oncoming breaking waves and come back to the surface and keep swimming through the bubbly, churning aftermath until I am in blue water but definitely not still water.

The water feels great. What bad thing could possibly happen in this water? The light and sky are just perfect here. There are clouds that are so dramatic, I am sure they are worthy of some kind of academy award. There is a crack in the sky that lets in just enough sun to shine on the water and light everything up like electricity.

I decide to swim north. I am actually not time constrained today and would not mind a little extra exercise and time in the water. My north route usually gives me just that. The only downside to this is that the strong south wind will make the first half of the swim deceptively easy. When it is time to turn around and swim against it, the tone of the water will definitely shift and become more challenging. I always wonder, will it be too challenging? Will the current be stronger than I can sustain? What if I notice I am not making any forward progress? Oh Matt, ye have little faith. I can’t tell you how many times I have worried about this and it has NEVER happened. I always make my way back to where I started.

I cross the point in front of the Ritz and it looks like that surf competition I saw on Friday is still underway. Lots of tents on the beach, some kind of large digital clock or timer and a guy talking through a loud speaker than I can’t quite make out. Well it is nice to know that I am not entirely alone here.

I keep swimming north and boy can I feel that current at my back. Even though I am in the water, I can feel that wind too. I can feel the spray of my own kicking feet fly over my head. I stop and look behind me and I see large wake after wake after wake pass over me in my direction. What in the world is this going to be like on the way back when I have to swim through all of that?

I am approaching the Monarch Bay Beach Club. I am getting close but not there yet. I stop and what is this? Rain! I love it. It’s not just a little drizzle either. This is true rain. There is something magical about rain on the surface of the ocean. It’s like I am encased in water. Water is all around me, and it is moving in all directions. As I look south toward the main surf break in the distance, it is hard to locate because I can’t see where the surf is NOT breaking. The wind is definitely stronger than when I began, the sky is darker and the seas are rougher. I yell out “this is so great!” Then I respond to myself a little more quietly, “or stupid.” They say it’s all fun and games until someone shoots their eye out. I won’t be doing that here but what craziness could I be getting myself into? Isn’t this the type of thing one is advised NOT to do?

It does not take long for me to reach my destination in front of the beach club. I get here at almost alarming speed. Well…I throw caution to the wind (practically literally) and turn around to head back.

The turbulence is pretty much what I was expecting - extreme. What I am most curious about is if I can identify the familiar landmarks on the beach that indicate forward momentum. When will I see the northernmost bathroom stairs? Will I ever see them? That’s the real question. I feel like I am in one of those tiny pools made for swimmers that produce a strong enough opposing current so that you are swimming in place.

Oh there it is! Those stairs. I am moving forward. Perhaps at a snails pace but I AM moving forward. All I have to do is keep doing what I am doing and eventually I will make it back. The water feels so good. I have to imagine that to the uneducated in these matters, the water must look so cold in these inclimate conditions. However, it is quite the opposite. It is very comfortable. Visibility is very low today. I don’t see much of the ocean floor today or kelp trees. I know they are here. That’s enough.

Eventually one of the other landmarks comes into view. The northernmost lifeguard tower - not really a “tower.” It feels and looks like the ocean is getting rougher. At what point does a “wake” become a “wave?” These don’t look like wakes around me anymore. They look like bonafide waves. I try to judge my distance from the shore. Am I too close? I definitely do not want to get caught in the surf break when I get there and I am not far. I try to veer slightly west to provide more space.

Every now and then I notice this upwelling of anxiety inside of me. Did I misjudge? Is this all a big mistake? Something deep inside of me tells me not to worry. Relax. On the one hand, relaxing seems completely counter intuitive, if I relax, then surely this current will push me backwards. Again the inner voice says that’s just not true. Just relax and feel your body on the water rising and falling. Let your arms continue to move and your legs keep kicking. Don’t over do it. Just keep moving them at a comfortable pace and you will find yourself exactly where you want to be.

I’m getting close to the surf break just between Salt Creek and Strands. I don’t see surfers in the water but then again there is a lot I can’t see right now. I imagine the surf competition spectators catching sight of me and wondering what idiot must be out here. I worry the lifeguards might send some kind of a rescue vessel. If I had seen the water like this from those web cams before I left, I probably would not have come. But I didn’t and I did and here I am. And honestly, this is spectacular. It will be even more spectacular if I make it back to shore.

I am not going to suggest that everyone come on out here in this kind of water. I’ve been doing this for a good while now. The water is warm and I am in good shape. I feel confident I can do this and the fact is, I got myself out here and now I have t get myself back. I can totally see why it is said that the worst thing you could do out here is panic. I can half way see myself stopping and starting to panic and then everything going dark. But I don’t do this. I keep listening to that voice. I just relax my body. I breathe (taking in a good amount of water as I do) and I keep moving my arms and legs.

Eventually here I am on the Strands side of the point. I make it past the restrooms. I make it to the estates on the bluff. I make it past the first several - just a few more to go. As I get closer. I can feel my stress level decrease and it also feels like maybe things are calming just a bit out here.

Well now it is time ot swim to shore. I hang out right where I am for a minute to take in the view and all that has happened before it is all done. I point myself due east. I swim and swim and swim. It is almost disappointingly anticlimactic how I do not intercept any large waves. I feel my fingers brush against the sandy floor and that tells me I am here.

I stand up and I look up and down the beach in both directions. I feel full. I feel so good. My spirit is overflowing with joy as I walk to the stairs and take in all that just happened.