A few times a year, we make our way down the coast to catch a sunset atop Hurricane Point on the Big Sur coast. Standing at what locals call the "ragged edge of the Western world," you look south past the Point Sur Lighthouse at the miles of cliffs jutting into the ocean. Sweeping to the west, a golden horizon. The scene never fails to etch itself on your soul.
Tourists rarely make it this far, stopping further north at Bixby Bridge for their photos. Those who do are often racing to the next picture stop, not realizing this - this - is the place. Marathon runners know. It's common to see them pause here, catching their breath and the moment.
This isn't a place for five or ten hurried minutes, though that’s how most people treat it – out of the car, back in again, escaping the wind. But backed up to the cliff's edge, I can sit for hours in the bed of my truck, wind in my face, contemplating beating off one of the longest lee shores in the world as the sun sinks behind an endless horizon.
NOAA records 463 known shipwrecks in the Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary since 1837, at least 14 of them claimed by the waters near Point Sur Lighthouse. It’s a lonely, unforgiving coast.
Having spent week long Summer vacations at the Delaware shore since we were little kids, seeing the ocean was not a momentous revelation. But we were always straining to be the first to say "I see the water!", and of course the wonderful smell of the shore when you get there. But there is a 2 edged sword in that smell! Driving to the Ocean, you long to breathe in the smell of the ocean. But when you are out at sea in rough weather, night time, little or no visibility, and you aren't quite sure exactly where you are, that same 'smell' is the smell of land, and will strike fear in your heart! When the bow watch comes in and says "I smell land!", double check the ded reckoning, soundings, etc.! Of course what with GPS nowadays, you don't even have to leave your bunk to 'navigate' your way to safety. P.S. I'm departing Key West in a day or 2, heading up the East Coast on a Cherubini 48, "Principles", owned by a lovely British couple. We'll be going in to the ICW at Beaufort, N.C. and out at Norfolk, to head up the Bay. Will you be out & about in the Bay, or still on the hard? I hope to cross paths!
Hey Bob!... the irony of that smell of shoreline is true AND I detest the sailor who navigates from below. We always have eyes out. Always.
Would be delightful to see you and meet your friends. Its a great trip up! Keep me posted. We'll be on the hard until end of September ??????? Perhaps. Cambridge is Eastern Shore Mid on the Choptank with fine deep harbor and free tieups or anchorages, and marinas available so perhaps if the timing works we can Cheers! Glad you appreciated the senses of this story, i'm assuming your veins have salt...
Beautiful, Janice, the photos, the connection with the oceans, the effort to connect with strangers, and your intimate knowledge of how a life lived on your own terms (to what runs in your veins 😉) is worth the costs it will entail!
A high compliment from you and your own terms! Thank you sincerely. Life's tradeoffs hopefully tip the scales in pure positivity overall....enjoy the Viv!! And the freedom of rolling. J
What a rich reflection Janice >> Thank you for the reminder that the ocean isn’t merely seen, it’s sensed, even absorbed, like breath or memory. Your words ring especially true for those of us who live by or on the sea. I read your piece anchored off a quiet curve of the Mediterranean, and found myself nodding—yes, yes—at each detail.
Ah, what a wonderful place to absorb my words; I'm honored to be aboard with you in such a coveted place. I'm looking forward to being afloat again. Enjoy your beautiful life Lyss! I truly appreciate you chiming in. Thank you. J
Beautifully written, Janice! I always feel lucky when I stand at the edge of the ocean, whether it’s the rocky coast of Maine, a sandy beach in Baja, or a mud flat in Alaska.
Hard to describe the reverence! Nice to meet you, Liz! I see that you did Baja! Wow, strong girl. How many flat tires? Maybe it's gotten better? I drove it 25 years ago, loved it all. Its HUGE!!
Haha did you see my piece “Baja Nearly Broke Me”? No flat tires, luckily, but I did need a new radiator, ball joints, control arms, and tie rods—most of the front-end suspension went out on those potholed, washboard roads. I don’t think it’s gotten much better over the years!
We've spent many wonderful moments out on "Mother, Mother, Ocean" and every moment is a new experience. Walking along the ever changing shorelines is equally as awing, but with a relaxed sensory concern. You've once again done a wonderful and enjoyable job of expressing the depth of your love affair with the sea. I say "sea" because I believe we only have one vast beautiful ocean covering our planet, no matter what we sailors have labeled the various areas.
Always look forward to your words when these notes come to me, Winston! Just quoted you in this week's piece as your SEA point is very well taken! Jimmy Buffett had the passion, too. "I've been wanting to sail upon her waters....Since I was two feet tall..."
And yes, there is much less consequence standing on shore.
I visited the first Coast Guard station (in Rodanthe, Outer Banks of NC) when I was nearing the end of a 2 month bike ride from Albuquerque to Baltimore. I learned a lot from exploring it, talking to the museum staff, and looking at maps that were displayed. I learned about the fighting currents, the sunken ships, the lost lives, the bravery of the earliest rescuers. I do love the ocean too and missed it a lot when I lived out west. I honor those brave people (except slave traders) who made their living traveling in the seas.
An interesting time and place to absorb maritime knowledge, wasn't it? Must have been an amazing ride in diverse ways. There are many men and families among us here who work the waters. Perhaps not quite as swarthy as the oceans, but dangerous nonetheless. It definitely runs through their blood and is a force to behold. I appreciate your additions to my taletelling. Thanks!
Devastated. The reef was nearly completely stripped bare above 40 feet deep. I've never seen anything else like it. We lost roof and windows. Mother Nature is in charge!
It would be interesting to turn back time to the moment I first encountered the ocean. I was a little girl, as were my kids. But I remember the first time I was offshore and how vulnerable one feels. Such vastness, and immeasurable power. That's what I hear anytime I'm on the coast, especially at night when the house goes quiet and I'm left with nothing but the rhythm of waves.
Beautiful piece, Janice, and I'm grateful for the mention. More grateful for the possibilities in those stranger encounters. Thank you!
Your note made me wonder as well, it was certainly Adirondack Mountain lakes as a child perhaps that drew me in first, but the oceans must not have been long after, certainly flowing in the veins.
The vulnerability you mention is very, very real! I most certainly remember the first time we left sight of land. Off to chat with someone I don't know...so grateful for you, Elizabeth!
The ocean is so amazing, dramatic. The Caribbean has a calmer vibe, but the pull and cresting of the waves is truly mesmerizing. I'm reading a really good book right now, Janice Anne, heavy duty title--Apocalypse: How Catastrophe Transformed Our world and can Forge New Futures. Your line about shorelines made me think of it. The book, written by a marine archeologist, goes into what is Under the sea--and how many drowned civilizations and changed landscapes and continent shapes have been changed by ocean water. I was drawn to it first bc she goes into the catastrophe-apocalypses before what is known as Noah's flood- citing 14 cities, places that morphed or died due to apocalyptic issues. And she lists Aké, a Maya site in Yucatán, too, which drew me in. Anyway, on another note, thanks - gracias for the mention in your post, amiga. Saludos.
That is quite a title--! I'll have to take a closer look. Change is the only constant in the world, as they say, and the powerful forces of nature's seas combine in such surprising ways. Have you sat through a major hurricane? Wilma hit when I owned the house in CZM. You're always worth a mention! My pleasure as you support me in so many ways. Thank you Jeanine! ~J
The book sounds horrible but it was recommended and it has the Yucatán in one section so that was all it took! Yes, Wilma was our biggest. We lucked out but not many of our neighbors did. PM was supposedly point zero. We hunkered down in Cancun 3 days as it stalled out. I’ll post my hurricane’story’ sometime. Did Coz get hit bad? I assume so, but cant remember.
It’s a terrifying thing I think, to venture offshore beyond the continental shelf and see no land in any direction. I’m not good at it and yet I love the sea.
I think for me, standing at the far southern point of Tasmania and knowing that the Southern Ocean laps coldly at my toes and that the next landmass is Antarctica - it’s pretty mindblowing. Watching Southern Ocean waves belt a cliff, the sheer power and majesty. It never ceases to be awesome.
You are so specially connected, aren't you, Prue? Very mindblowing! I could have stood on that shore all day, in the rain. I miss it now, living in our temporary little apartment. I used to wake up and look our my port, which is at eye level, and yet you are absolutely correct that it's also frightening and powerful enough to make mere humans incredibly vulnerable. Thanks as always for weighing in from your side of the world! ~J
A few times a year, we make our way down the coast to catch a sunset atop Hurricane Point on the Big Sur coast. Standing at what locals call the "ragged edge of the Western world," you look south past the Point Sur Lighthouse at the miles of cliffs jutting into the ocean. Sweeping to the west, a golden horizon. The scene never fails to etch itself on your soul.
Tourists rarely make it this far, stopping further north at Bixby Bridge for their photos. Those who do are often racing to the next picture stop, not realizing this - this - is the place. Marathon runners know. It's common to see them pause here, catching their breath and the moment.
This isn't a place for five or ten hurried minutes, though that’s how most people treat it – out of the car, back in again, escaping the wind. But backed up to the cliff's edge, I can sit for hours in the bed of my truck, wind in my face, contemplating beating off one of the longest lee shores in the world as the sun sinks behind an endless horizon.
NOAA records 463 known shipwrecks in the Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary since 1837, at least 14 of them claimed by the waters near Point Sur Lighthouse. It’s a lonely, unforgiving coast.
Having spent week long Summer vacations at the Delaware shore since we were little kids, seeing the ocean was not a momentous revelation. But we were always straining to be the first to say "I see the water!", and of course the wonderful smell of the shore when you get there. But there is a 2 edged sword in that smell! Driving to the Ocean, you long to breathe in the smell of the ocean. But when you are out at sea in rough weather, night time, little or no visibility, and you aren't quite sure exactly where you are, that same 'smell' is the smell of land, and will strike fear in your heart! When the bow watch comes in and says "I smell land!", double check the ded reckoning, soundings, etc.! Of course what with GPS nowadays, you don't even have to leave your bunk to 'navigate' your way to safety. P.S. I'm departing Key West in a day or 2, heading up the East Coast on a Cherubini 48, "Principles", owned by a lovely British couple. We'll be going in to the ICW at Beaufort, N.C. and out at Norfolk, to head up the Bay. Will you be out & about in the Bay, or still on the hard? I hope to cross paths!
Hey Bob!... the irony of that smell of shoreline is true AND I detest the sailor who navigates from below. We always have eyes out. Always.
Would be delightful to see you and meet your friends. Its a great trip up! Keep me posted. We'll be on the hard until end of September ??????? Perhaps. Cambridge is Eastern Shore Mid on the Choptank with fine deep harbor and free tieups or anchorages, and marinas available so perhaps if the timing works we can Cheers! Glad you appreciated the senses of this story, i'm assuming your veins have salt...
All the best, fair winds and be safe!
J
Beautiful, Janice, the photos, the connection with the oceans, the effort to connect with strangers, and your intimate knowledge of how a life lived on your own terms (to what runs in your veins 😉) is worth the costs it will entail!
A high compliment from you and your own terms! Thank you sincerely. Life's tradeoffs hopefully tip the scales in pure positivity overall....enjoy the Viv!! And the freedom of rolling. J
What a rich reflection Janice >> Thank you for the reminder that the ocean isn’t merely seen, it’s sensed, even absorbed, like breath or memory. Your words ring especially true for those of us who live by or on the sea. I read your piece anchored off a quiet curve of the Mediterranean, and found myself nodding—yes, yes—at each detail.
Ah, what a wonderful place to absorb my words; I'm honored to be aboard with you in such a coveted place. I'm looking forward to being afloat again. Enjoy your beautiful life Lyss! I truly appreciate you chiming in. Thank you. J
Beautifully written, Janice! I always feel lucky when I stand at the edge of the ocean, whether it’s the rocky coast of Maine, a sandy beach in Baja, or a mud flat in Alaska.
Hard to describe the reverence! Nice to meet you, Liz! I see that you did Baja! Wow, strong girl. How many flat tires? Maybe it's gotten better? I drove it 25 years ago, loved it all. Its HUGE!!
Haha did you see my piece “Baja Nearly Broke Me”? No flat tires, luckily, but I did need a new radiator, ball joints, control arms, and tie rods—most of the front-end suspension went out on those potholed, washboard roads. I don’t think it’s gotten much better over the years!
www.lizexplores.com/p/baja-nearly-broke-me
Maybe that lack of improvement keeps it peaceful... loved the article. J
I imagine the roads are a deterrent for many!
We've spent many wonderful moments out on "Mother, Mother, Ocean" and every moment is a new experience. Walking along the ever changing shorelines is equally as awing, but with a relaxed sensory concern. You've once again done a wonderful and enjoyable job of expressing the depth of your love affair with the sea. I say "sea" because I believe we only have one vast beautiful ocean covering our planet, no matter what we sailors have labeled the various areas.
Always look forward to your words when these notes come to me, Winston! Just quoted you in this week's piece as your SEA point is very well taken! Jimmy Buffett had the passion, too. "I've been wanting to sail upon her waters....Since I was two feet tall..."
And yes, there is much less consequence standing on shore.
THANK YOU.
J
All thanks and much appreciation to you "J" as you share your passion for the sea and sailing upon her.
I visited the first Coast Guard station (in Rodanthe, Outer Banks of NC) when I was nearing the end of a 2 month bike ride from Albuquerque to Baltimore. I learned a lot from exploring it, talking to the museum staff, and looking at maps that were displayed. I learned about the fighting currents, the sunken ships, the lost lives, the bravery of the earliest rescuers. I do love the ocean too and missed it a lot when I lived out west. I honor those brave people (except slave traders) who made their living traveling in the seas.
An interesting time and place to absorb maritime knowledge, wasn't it? Must have been an amazing ride in diverse ways. There are many men and families among us here who work the waters. Perhaps not quite as swarthy as the oceans, but dangerous nonetheless. It definitely runs through their blood and is a force to behold. I appreciate your additions to my taletelling. Thanks!
Devastated. The reef was nearly completely stripped bare above 40 feet deep. I've never seen anything else like it. We lost roof and windows. Mother Nature is in charge!
It would be interesting to turn back time to the moment I first encountered the ocean. I was a little girl, as were my kids. But I remember the first time I was offshore and how vulnerable one feels. Such vastness, and immeasurable power. That's what I hear anytime I'm on the coast, especially at night when the house goes quiet and I'm left with nothing but the rhythm of waves.
Beautiful piece, Janice, and I'm grateful for the mention. More grateful for the possibilities in those stranger encounters. Thank you!
Your note made me wonder as well, it was certainly Adirondack Mountain lakes as a child perhaps that drew me in first, but the oceans must not have been long after, certainly flowing in the veins.
The vulnerability you mention is very, very real! I most certainly remember the first time we left sight of land. Off to chat with someone I don't know...so grateful for you, Elizabeth!
☺️
Another great piece. I decided I would listen to you read it. Oh my! It was excellent. Thank you.
You just made my day so much better Switter. That is a wonderful thing to say! THANKS.
The ocean is so amazing, dramatic. The Caribbean has a calmer vibe, but the pull and cresting of the waves is truly mesmerizing. I'm reading a really good book right now, Janice Anne, heavy duty title--Apocalypse: How Catastrophe Transformed Our world and can Forge New Futures. Your line about shorelines made me think of it. The book, written by a marine archeologist, goes into what is Under the sea--and how many drowned civilizations and changed landscapes and continent shapes have been changed by ocean water. I was drawn to it first bc she goes into the catastrophe-apocalypses before what is known as Noah's flood- citing 14 cities, places that morphed or died due to apocalyptic issues. And she lists Aké, a Maya site in Yucatán, too, which drew me in. Anyway, on another note, thanks - gracias for the mention in your post, amiga. Saludos.
That is quite a title--! I'll have to take a closer look. Change is the only constant in the world, as they say, and the powerful forces of nature's seas combine in such surprising ways. Have you sat through a major hurricane? Wilma hit when I owned the house in CZM. You're always worth a mention! My pleasure as you support me in so many ways. Thank you Jeanine! ~J
The book sounds horrible but it was recommended and it has the Yucatán in one section so that was all it took! Yes, Wilma was our biggest. We lucked out but not many of our neighbors did. PM was supposedly point zero. We hunkered down in Cancun 3 days as it stalled out. I’ll post my hurricane’story’ sometime. Did Coz get hit bad? I assume so, but cant remember.
It’s a terrifying thing I think, to venture offshore beyond the continental shelf and see no land in any direction. I’m not good at it and yet I love the sea.
I think for me, standing at the far southern point of Tasmania and knowing that the Southern Ocean laps coldly at my toes and that the next landmass is Antarctica - it’s pretty mindblowing. Watching Southern Ocean waves belt a cliff, the sheer power and majesty. It never ceases to be awesome.
You are so specially connected, aren't you, Prue? Very mindblowing! I could have stood on that shore all day, in the rain. I miss it now, living in our temporary little apartment. I used to wake up and look our my port, which is at eye level, and yet you are absolutely correct that it's also frightening and powerful enough to make mere humans incredibly vulnerable. Thanks as always for weighing in from your side of the world! ~J