You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
Kayaking in the Monterey Bay.
The sun is blazing and the sky is an imperial blue.
It’s a deep blue, the kind of blue that rolls on forever, that makes you squint and dream and feel good about the day.
There is an on shore breeze and it is helping to cool us down.
The air has a fragrance of salt and kelp.
It’s been hot, so hot. In the 90’s.
The hotels and restaurants line the canary as we paddle through this incredible confluence of bait fish and sea life.
I am in a rental Kayak and paddling against the current.
I watch the fluorescent yellow plastic thrust through the calm dark green water. It’s so calm, I can almost see my own reflection.
I dip my paddle into the bay and pull with my left arm. I feel my muscles snap to life. As the paddle glides to the rear of the kayak, I pick up the paddle, give it a slight twist of the wrist and dip the right paddle into the sea. I grab a chunk of water and smoothly pull against the ocean.
I feel the little vessel glide forward, sliding over kelp and a myriad of aquatic life.
I feel the water with my hand. It is warmer than normal, meaning cold, not just freezing cold.
Normally the bay is in the mid 50s due to currents and deep trenches just off shore.
But El Nino is upon us and with it, a total change of environmental impact. The air is hot and the bay is possibly 10 degrees warmer than normal.
A few degrees is significant in the bay. It’s enough to shift the migratory patterns of bait fish, which are all around me.
I look down in the water below the kayak and I see a school of anchovies. They are silver and a thousand fish swim as one.
They reflect in the sunlight, appearing like a hundred foot bullet train just under the surface.
This school of bait fish has brought the entire eco-system to shore.
Like a dining domino effect, one species of hungry animal has followed the next to this open snack bar by the sea.
Larger fish chase the anchovies. Seals and sea otters and sea lions chase the larger fish. That also brings in the whales and great whites lurking nearby.
And all around me is a squadron of birds.
So many marine predators hunting for food, all in one place.
It’s like bumper to bumper on the 405 freeway, everyone screaming out their windows, thrusting a middle finger in the air.
I am paddling through pockets of sea birds thicker than protesters on a Ferguson highway.
These feathered aviators are diving out of the sky, into the water around me. They are floating nearby. They are standing on kelp beds so thick, it looks like a murky lawn in the middle of a great abyss.
I try and avoid these aquatic lumps that slow down my rowing.
As I do, the birds squaw and chirp and peck at anything that moves under the surface of the water.
The bay is alive.
To my left is the world famous Monterey Bay Aquarium.
People are standing on the observation deck, looking through binoculars.
I imagine they are watching me as I interact with the sea life around me.
I have been these tourists gazing at the bright yellow kayaks from the observation deck.
“I’d like to do that one day,” I always said.
Today is that day.
It is liberating and life fulfilling.
I am inhaling a life moment that is once in a lifetime, for me.
As I cruise by the aquarium, I am careful not to paddle when a sea-lion slides under my kayak.
I watch the furry animal watch me from a few inches below.
He is curious and makes sure not to hit my kayak.
I am glad he is cautious. I think one swipe of his rear flipper and I would be submerged, capsized, scrambling to regain my composure in the cold, rapidly moving water.
As we get to Point Cabrillo on the far side of the aquarium, we are greeted by rough surf. The waves are slamming against the rocks. I feel the sea kayak bounce back and forth and my confidence begins to erode.
“Let’s go back,” I shout.
We turn and let the current guide us back around the peninsula.
We pass the dive boat with divers in the kelp beds. I use to dive here. It is a jungle underwater with kelp beds that anchor to the sand and then reach up to the sunlight like submerged red wood trees.
Around these kelp trees, all manner of sea life congregates in a cathedral of light and water and surging life.
We pass a family of sea otters, laying on their backs, cracking open abalone.
The parents yawn at our bright yellow water craft, while the pups roll off the kelp bed and submerge into the darkness.
We are now at the breakwater, that shields the marina and fisherman’s warf from the onslaught of wave and sea.
Bueys slowly rock in the calm sea.
As we round the point, we are greeted by a barking fury and foul stench.
Hundreds of seals and sea lions are basking on the rocks. They are barking and burping and farting and sleeping.
They are cute, but also wild.
They are calm, but also quick to agitate.
They are on every rock, soaking up the sunshine, lazily snoring in the afternoon heat.
As I paddle by this group of sea lions, I catch a wiff.
It smells like a locker room toilet has over flowed.
Wow, you guys need a bath,” I say to the creatures who are almost close enough to touch.
I watch the sea lions as they watch me.
I video tape them and marvel at this moment.
It’s not often you drift within a few feet of so many wild creatures.
This is an anomaly of sorts. The sea lions are here because the sharks are nearby, and sea lions are a delicacy for sharks.
The water is warmer and the entire food chain has moved closer to the land.
I can’t help think that I am now a part of this floating shmorgasboard.
After a few minutes we paddle back against the current and put in at the beach.
The young attendant pulls my kayak onto the sand.
I stand, my legs wobbly from inactivity for 2 and a half hours.
I take a moment to collect my balance.
“It was fantastic,” I say.
“It’s pretty awesome,” he replies.
“The sea lions on the jetty were crazy,” I say pointing to the other side of the rocks.
“It’s a special time,” he says.
I roll my shoulder. It is sore as hell.
I don’t row for 2 hours very often and my muscles are letting me know it is going to be a rough night.
As we get in our car, I roll down the window and let the ocean breeze fill the vehicle.
It’s refreshing, as I gaze at the bay.
It is percolating, pulsing with life.
In the distance I hear a bark.
I smile.
“get a bath.”
Life’s Crazy™