Smuggler's Cove

Mixing it up a bit and bringing back my college poetry fun...this adventure just called for a poem ;)

The journey began on the second day of July,
The weather was dreary, but our spirits were high.
We set out early, early in the morn.
Warned of the fog by a distant low horn.

We boarded the boat at the Captain's demand,
leaving behind a silent wharf as we drifted from land.
We sailed for miles, in the mysterious haze,
the only site of note being seals in a pile of laze.

Finally in the distance, rising out of the sea,
were the cliffs of Santa Cruz, a daunting sight to me.
Imposing upon us, with only a small bay to anchor,
we let down the sails and embarked upon the rocky shore. 

Here we left our fellow travelers, for what we sought was not near,
our time on the island was short, so we began our climb in fear.
With tales of wild foxes and ravens on our minds, 
we left no trace of our existence and watched closely our behinds.

We stopped not for water, we stopped not for strength,
we climbed a good while, we hiked a great length.
Forgotten was the bright sun, nature's own hot stove,
for our destination was upon us, the old Smuggler's Cove.

We peaked the mountain in record speed,
the views around us spectacular indeed.
We began our descent with treasures in mind,
for we knew not what at Smuggler's Cove we would find.

White sand and stone covered beaches, the water as clear as can be,
islands in the distance, that only we could see.
The waves crashed upon the shore as we dined in delight,
for we had succeeded in all our great might.

Our return trip is but a distant memory, 
dolphins surrounding the ship and jumping with glee, 
Gold and rubies we may not have found, 
but at Smuggler's Cove it is the natural treasures that will forever abound. 

Let's go Surfing now...

Surfing. Stop for a second and focus in on that picture in your mind. Riding giant waves, beach bronzed 6-pack, hair waving in the wind, and the hazy sunset over the endless ferris wheel on the distant pier.

Now substitute these key phrases:
Riding = Getting knocked over by
Beach bronzed 6-pack = sun burnt
Waving in the wind = whipping in your face
And leave the rest.

A glimpse of my struggles...

Okay, so I'm being dramatic. But my excitement to try surfing for the first time last week in Santa Monica started draining a tad as I struggled to carry my long board across the beach. Thankfully the wet suit went on easier than anticipated, but that first night it only went down hill from there. I got tossed around pretty good, as did my board, which is fine, but it was tough not being comfortable with what I was supposed to do in the different situations...Dive under the giant wave breaking in front of you? Hold on to the board? Stay on top of the board? Attempt to jump over the wave while holding on to the board? You catch my drift. I was thrilled to catch one wave (laying down of course), but after seriously nose diving into the sand on the next one, I was over it for the day. With some bruising and only one whack to the head (fortunately not my head....but that made it worse), we left the beach soon after sunset.

Day 2 I maybe wasn't as gung ho as my friends, but I was determined to give it another shot. Thankfully the waves were a lot more manageable and the experience was all together more delightful. I figured out how to handle the board and what to do in the different situations and realized it was a lot easier if I didn't think about it so much. I got up on my knees and thoroughly enjoyed laying on the board as the sun set over the pier again. I was quite content!

This picture is more about my 4th of July
nails than surfing... 

Day 3 started out a bit early, so I settled in as photographer from my cozy beach spot. Watching the many surfers facing the sea, waiting expectantly for the waves to unfold was somehow calming, though the crashing object of their desire seemed far from peaceful. I soon realized it was our last day to surf so I forced myself to get off the towel and tiptoe into the chilly waters. With some sort of competitive jab for inspiration, I stood up on my first wave of the day! I was riding it on my knees and when I didn't fall, I figured I might as well try standing. The feeling was some sort of combination between weightlessly riding a tree swing and the breathless anticipation of a first kiss. A wonderfully freeing moment rising up in my chest. I can understand why people love it so much. I never rode a wave for too long and certainly have a ways to go, but I was thrilled for the opportunity and hope to have the chance again!

There weren't many chances to get a picture of me surfing...but Mike looked great!