Since I didn't want to push my luck last weekend paddling in 20+ knot winds with white caps, I was anxious to get my boat into the water this weekend. Actually I was a little too anxious; I awoke hourly starting at midnight. At 3 AM I gave up trying to sleep and got up to load my boat and gear.

As I pulled up to Point Dume State Beach at about 5:50, I figured that I would have plenty of time to set up and be on the water in time to meet the whales by 7. What I hadn't planned for was the park gate being closed. The park service must have had a problem with gate crashers. The gate to this park is equipped with horizontal spears designed to puncture the engine block of any nimrod who thinks he might want to try plowing through it.

No problem, I figured, I'll just park outside the gate and launch from the free public beach. I thought I might even save a couple of bucks by not having to pay the park's entry fee. So I parked my truck near the Grey Whale restaurant and decided to take a look at the surf. And that's when the problem occurred. Standing on the shore, looking up at the surf gave me a strong urge to use a toilet. My breakfast definitely did not want to launch through pounding surf that was taller than me. And after running all the way back to the public restroom at the other end of the beach, I discovered that the restroom was also locked. The problem with being an early bird is that most public accommodations just don't wake up early enough!

I went back to unload my boat and gear. But the more I looked at the surf and listened to it pounding on the beach, the more I hoped that the restroom would open. Fortunately at about 6:45 a park serviceman came by to unlock it for me. God bless him for getting to work early!

A few minutes later I was back on the beach looking at the six foot surf. The expression on my face was similar to the look on the squirrel's face in "Ice Age" as the avalanche is about to come crashing down on him - big eyes, twisted mouth, maybe even a tear or two. For a moment, or two, or three I considered packing it all up and heading for a safer launch site. This was the type of curling surf that made the surfers run to the shore with excitement. I've already mentioned where it made me run to. But it had been more than a year since the last time that I saw a whale up close from inside my kayak, and I wasn't about to let a little murderous surf get in my way. So I took a deep breath and launched.

Fortunately I was able to maintain my position in the white water between the beach and the surf dump zone while waiting for the right opportunity. After plowing through four white water baths, I found a break in the surf and raced to make it through before the next roller had a chance to tumble me. What a sense of elation, I made it through the surf, and now the ocean was mine!

As I paddled over to Point Dume, I was impressed with the beauty of the morning. Sunlight was punching through holes in the cloud formations and highlighting some of the hillsides. From my vantage point on the water I could see the green mountains behind the bluff. There were red flowers in the iceplant on the bluff. Even the air temperature was near perfect. I felt the tensions of the past week begin to melt away. There's something very therapeutic about being in a kayak on the water in paradise.

And then, right on time, the first pair of whales arrived! Unfortunately, I had positioned myself off shore a little too far and the swell between us impaired some of my view. I was surprised at how close to shore they traveled. The people on the bluff's observation deck probably got a pretty good view.

Normally when I'm on the water I like to keep moving around. But sighting the whales did wonders for patience. After positioning myself a little closer to the rocks, I was content to sit there and savor the morning. My patience paid off about 90 minutes later when I got a really nice view of a whale from about 50 yards. This time the swell did not block my view. I got to see him sound twice, and both times its flukes rose high out of the water as if it was waiving at me. Judging from the size of the whale, it might have been an adolescent. But it was big enough to give me a thrill.

I hung around long enough to see the peanut gallery on the observation deck call it a day. And after making a pass through the rock gardens on the point, I decided to head back to the beach. From time to time I would glance at the surf dancing on the beach. This wasn't a ballet, it was more like a war dance.

My apprehension grew even worse when I discovered at least 17 surfers strategically spread along the surf line at the beach where I had parked my car. As the tide receded this stretch of beach had created the highest surf. I paddled around the surfers and made a charge to get through the dump zone as a wave broke in front of me. For the second time in one day my strategy worked and I made it through the dump zone. The next wave broke behind me rather than on top of me. My ride to the shore was a high speed express broach. Fortunately my luck and my brace held. I even managed to turn into the surf and do a backward beach landing.

What a day! I can't wait to try it again.

    Patrick Martin