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From: Mark Sanders <sandmarks_at_ca.rr.com>
subject: [Paddlewise] What a difference a day makes
Date: Tue, 13 Mar 2007 19:21:36 -0700
When I headed out yesterday for my paddle, it was your typical August summer
day, albeit in March. Little wind, a lotta heat and the beaches crowded with
people. I ran into Duane on my way out and we discussed the sad event about
Len and then I headed out to sea. Today my paddle out of the harbor
resembled last month's storm paddle as I battled a strong headwind
channeling through the jetties. The waves inside the harbor weren't too big,
but it was a rare sight to see waves crashing over the south jetty from the
outside.

On the ocean the swells were small, but the wind was kicking up the chop.
The grayish sky was a marked contrast to yesterday's brightness. As I looked
south, I could see the small swells were rather deceptive as when the hit,
they were crashing over Little Arch Rock. Big Arch Rock was getting a badly
needed guano wash as well, so hopefully I can look forward to a fresher
smelling hangout. Down the coast, the shore was covered in mist as the wind
blew off the tops of the crashing waves.

I had tons-o-fun yesterday playing in the waves and the paper said the waves
today were a foot bigger and of better shape. I had hope of a repeat
performance, but I was to be disappointed. With the low tide, the 50 yards
or so of beach I consider my play area was flanked by large exposed rocks on
the shore. Although the waves making their way to the beach didn't look as
big as the ones yesterday, you had to be pretty impressed with the change in
water level as the swells passed underneath. The shore was transformed into
a mass of green and white foam by the small but powerful waves until the
backwash sucked it away as fast as it appeared. I still hoped to sneak in to
get at least one video to fulfill my paddling goals for the day. I hung out
in a safe area trying to gauge the waves and saw the area I would have to be
setting up for undergo some rather nasty hydraulics in the ebb in front of
the incoming waves. I decided today there'd be no wave play.

On the way home, I settled for replaying in my mind the fun from the day
before. As I turned into the harbor, the wind became my friend and I
considered putting it in charge of the way home, but I couldn't resist
paddling in front of some of the large surge coming in to surf my way to
Pirates Cove. Once there, I leaned back in my kayak with my paddle against
my chest to catch the wind. I usually dread the paddle home through the
harbor, but taking it easy I enjoyed the sights and sounds of the harbor.
There were the sounds of the flags and the awning on the houses and the snap
of sail of a boat tacking in front of me. I leaned back and watched the
clouds sail by with total disregard of the harbor speed limit. As I watched,
the wispy clouds turned into a full blown fog and when I reached the Coast
Guard beach Balboa Island was just a foggy recollection. It was a nice way
to get home. From Pirates Cove till my bow hit the sand on my landing beach,
my paddle blades never hit the water.

Mark Sanders
www.sandmarks.net
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