Oceans Apart

I went to the beach today. It’s funny, I’ve lived nearly my entire life a mere hour from the beach, and until this year I’ve very rarely bothered to visit it. Both of my parents are from Florida. My Mom was an airforce brat, and spent most of her life in various countries and states, and my Dad was just a good ol’ boy with roots in Georgia and Alabama, and a heritage as rich as the South itself. He spent his summers on the Gulf of Mexico near Panama City, and the rest of the year at Cocoa Beach on the Atlantic. His Florida upbringing had completely spoiled him, and he despised the beaches of California. It’s no real wonder. The Pacific is freezing, it’s always overcast, and it’s so crowded that there are times and places where you can’t find enough room to sit down.

Every summer we’d pack the family van and Mom and my brothers and I would make the trek back to Florida to visit the grandparents. It was no small venture, and my Mom’s style of traveling didn’t expedite the journey. It wasn’t uncommon for our route from Southern California to Florida to include stops in places like Salt Lake City Utah, Oklahoma City, or even St Louis Missouri. (I should point out here that when you’re ten, and have to spend eight hours a day in a cramped van with your siblings, you want to reach your destination as soon as possible, and while her inefficiency used to drive me nuts, it has instilled in me a real love of traveling for the sake of traveling) Around two weeks after our departure we’d reach our destination, which was, more often than not, the family beach cottage near Panama City. My Dad could only get a maximum of three weeks off work, and therefore couldn’t really afford to gallivant around the country with us. He’s usually fly out after we’d arrived, spend his three weeks at the cottage with us, and then fly back home. I spent many a summer on the beaches of Florida, and had grown to share my Dad’s disdain for the beaches of California.

Today was beautiful. All of the trips this year have been beautiful in fact. We got there around noon, and the mist had almost burned away. The water was freezing as always, but if you are to keep moving, and take an occasional break to play ultimate frisbee or football, one can manage quite well. At one point a few of us had swum out past the breakers, and were waiting for a nice set to bodysurf on. We looked up and saw a pod of dolphins heading our way. Now I’ve swum with dolphins before on a few occasions- a couple of times in the Gulf, and a few times while sailing around Catalina Island. It’s not as exciting as you might think. In fact, it can be downright terrifying. Dolphins are much bigger in real life than they look on TV, and when you’re in murky water, and an animal that’s almost twice your size, approaches you rapidly, it can be very unnerving. These dolphins came right at us, and swam around us and under us. It was fun, but none of us had the nerve to reach out and actually touch any of them.

In the pacific it’s not uncommon for the waves to reach over six feet in height, and that can make it difficult to actually get out away from the beach. If you don’t know what you’re doing you’ll get pushed back in close to shore, and if there’s a rip tide you can get stuck at shoulder depth with six foot waves breaking over your head and pushing you in, while the rip tide pulls you back out. Dealing with situations like this is a constant battle. You have to pay attention, and be strong swimmer. When a wave comes, to keep from being bowled over you must dive down to the bottom and press your body to the ground. If you do this correctly the wave’s energy will pass over you and keep you down. After it’s passed you’ll be pulled back up towards the surface. At this point you can surface and take a few breaths, and swim in whatever direction you’re heading until the next wave comes. If you want to head in against a rip tide, you have to ride the waves. There’s a great analogy in this somewhere, but I can’t find it right now. I think it pertains to the waves that life sends at us. Maybe I’ll figure it out in a day or two.

After we were pretty well frozen, we came in and decided to go for a walk. We were at Zuma beach, and about two miles north of Point Doom. This massive cliff rises sheer out of the water, and has an ominous look about it. I’ve never understood why “ominous” is never listed as being synonymous with “exciting” in the Thesaurus, because anything that’s ominous is bound to be exciting, and Point Doom is no exception, so of course we had to check it out. We got down there and watched a few people rock climbing, suspended 100 feet over the open ocean. When we climbed around the point, we found a beautiful little cove with a beach about a hundred yards across which ended in another cliff. After climbing around that cliff and out onto the rocks we found a series of tide pools. The rocks were covered with anemone, barnacles and muscles, turning them dark shades of purple and green. There was a strong breeze that blew in our faces, and blew foam and spray around us. It reflected the mood of the ocean below it. The waves would rush in amongst the rocks a few feet below us and shoot spray up and around us. The cliffs rose high to our backs, and in front of us the open ocean stretched off over the edge of the world. It brought on the feeling that this was not the ocean we’d been playing in before. This was the ocean that sank ships and birthed storms. It was turbulent and terrible, and if it so desired, it could swallow up all the land that it had yielded millennia ago. Standing there on that rock, with the waves and the wind whipping around me, and looking that ocean in the eye…it was incredible.