El Capitan to Naples Point
This morning Mike Plummer and I met at El Capitan State Beach to paddle down to Naples Point and back. I think Mike was half-hoping that no one was going to show up because the wind was blowing about 15 mph, the wind waves were 1 to 2 foot high, the sky was threatening more rain, and the ocean seemed to be in a foreboding mood with white caps seething here and there. So here I come along and dash his hopes for a safe and sane Sunday when I looked at the ocean and proclaimed, "Yeah, I think we can handle this."

Since Mike is a good sport, he went along with the idea of putting our skills to the test. Although Mike was a little apprehensive of the rapid wave intervals, his launch was so smooth that he made it look downright easy. He paddled out as calm as could be and didn't even get his hands wet.

So then it is my turn to launch, and in spite of the fact that I waited for several larger than normal waves to pass, Old Man Ocean had a couple of attack waves that he had been hiding in his back pocket as a special gift for me. I didn't exactly get clobbered, but the first wave gave me a big sloppy kiss and the second wave sent me airborne for a moment. In spite of the fact that I stayed upright, I ended up with about as much water down the back of my wetsuit as if I had done a roll. Ah, what a refreshing way to start the day!

The paddle from El Capitan was rather uneventful as far as ocean antics. The wind waves weren't as challenging as the expected them to be, and the water even got smooth when we paddled through the big kelp beds. Mike turned out to be a pretty knowledgeable tour guide. He was able to point out a large Indian village that dated back thousands of years. And he also told me about a mid-1800's shady real estate scheme to sell property in a town at Naples Point that really wasn't anything like it was advertised to be.

In about an hour we were at Naples Point and it seemed to me that we had only paddled about 3 miles rather than the 5 miles that the map said it was. The reason for this became apparent when we turned around and discovered that the wind had not died down at all. We were now on the ocean's version of a treadmill. Funny how the space/time continuum gets warped here and there; although the paddle from El Capitan to Naples Point seemed to be about 3 miles long, the return trip seemed to be at least two or three times that distance.

When we finally made it back we discovered that the tide had devoured most of the sand on the beach but had spit out the rocks. Mike landed first, and again he made it look easy. He just paddled up to the shore, got out of his boat, and lifted it up onto the bank. I don't think he even got his feet wet.

And, so here I come. And all of a sudden there are big waves all over the place (does this sound familiar?). Since I was now suspicious that Old Man Ocean was up to his tricks again, I let a whole bunch of big waves go in ahead of me. And when things seemed to calm down, I tried to sneak in before the next set got there. That's when I discovered that the next set was determined to race the first set to shore. I surfed the first wave for a few feet, backpaddled and let it go ahead of me. I did the same on the next wave except that I got on the back of the wave and chased it past the dump zone. As I raced to get through the soup zone, I thought I had it made. Mike had even waded out into the water to help me land. And that's when this foaming, frothing monster from the deep erupted behind me and sent me side surfing and bumping over the cobblestones on the beach. But good news, I didn't run over Mike, and somehow my boat wasn't damaged in spite of a spooky noise made by one of the rock impacts.

Turned out to be another great day on the water; a challenge, some excitement, a good work-out, new sites to see, and hearty laughter with a good friend. Right now life feels pretty good.

All the best,
    Patrick Martin

Submitted on October 17, 2004