Showing posts with label heavy surf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heavy surf. Show all posts

Thursday, January 5, 2012

In A New York Minute, Everything Can Change

Oh how I wish I left work just a moment earlier. Instead of that one...last...thing.... Even so, as I headed home from campus, I could see the glow in the western sky. I had been warned all day by the flashing red of my Weather Channel desktop, alerting me to the heavy surf (and the "recommend you stay away from the beach" admonishments...HA!).
The spit is so FAR. It's so close I can SEE it but so far away when you want to BE there. I have to drive north to drive south again. Not sure I'll make it but I'll try. Traffic is in my favor as I go around the golf course and through town. Turning on to 255, towards the Samoa peninsula, I can see I'm not alone. I'm not the only one heading that direction, taunted by the warm glow in the winter sky. Not the only one for whom those "High Surf Advisories" is an invitation. Driving over the bridges, I sneak quick glances to see the enormous orange ball. Dropping. Too fast! Slow DOWN! Wait for me PLEASE!
As I sit at the stop sign waiting for the seemingly endless line of (four) cars to pass, I stow my purse and pull the straps on my shoes. No time to make it to the far end, to the harbor mouth where the final drop would surely be most spectacular. I pull into the parking lot at Samoa Beach, finding a spot easily, tear off my shoes and grab my camera. The howling wind convinces me to grab the raincoat I had taken this morning. I run. Through the cold sand, over the rise, JUST in time. The ball has dropped halfway into the water. The heavy surf roars but I'm sure there must be a loud sizzle as the cold water quenches the sun. I can't draw my eyes away from the orange sphere slowly.....slipping....
..under. The few of us at the beach watch the sky change from orange to dark, muddy blue. No doubt others were farther up the beach - this is a show not to be missed. We wrap our coats around our bodies, breathe deep. And head home. Lord I love this place!

Saturday, January 5, 2008

RIDERS ON THE STORM

If you know me, you know that the phrase "hazardous seas" is just a taunt to get me out there. And I went, dragging Gloria with me. The road was fun since last night's surge had drug sand over part of the road. It was a bit precarious in my little Xbox with NO ground clearance but we made it. Check these out...The first one is of the north jetty, what you can see of it. You can't see the rocks where I was crawling on Tuesday. Oh..MY...GAWD!
Glo got this video. Just for perspective, that black is the jetty wall where people sit and fish, along which I generally walk. The wave is IN the channel and ENORMOUS. I'd like to tell you it's her voice, all excited and awestruck but, hey, she's sixteen. It was me. Needless to say, no fishing boats and no surfers. Glo and I stayed on the dune as did most of the other people who couldn't resist the call of the "hazardous seas". I can honestly tell you that the scene was truly APOCALYPTIC!
Although I don't know that I've ever seen anything as impressive, Mark reminded me of a big storm in Santa Cruz. I begged him to drive out on to the wharf and I was pissed because my pictures of the waves skimming the bottom of the pier beneath us didn't turn out. I don't know WHY....I was hanging plenty far over the side?! We must have already been married .... I'm not sure he would have married me AFTER that.