Day 25-26 of the 2nd Voyage: In which we patiently wait for our transmission by turning into complete beach geeks.

This may come as a shock, but Washington State is severely lacking in warm, sandy beaches. Factoring in the outer coastline, the offshore islands, the sounds and bays, and the tidal portion of the big rivers, Washington has over 3,000 miles of shoreline—but very few beaches where you could comfortably dig your toes in the sand and not get frostbite.

Now before my fellow Washingtonians rise up and revoke my “Mildew or Die” membership card (on second thought, go ahead and revoke it), I want to clarify that Washington beaches are beautiful, nay breathtaking, and many are well worth an inclusion on anyone’s bucket list. But the fact of the matter is that they are more conducive to beachcombing (an activity in which you search the beach for something to do that doesn’t involve swimming, wading or sitting in the sand), metal detecting (a hobby in which you search for treasure on beaches where you can’t swim, wade or sit so you can afford a vacation to a beach where you can) and clamming (an activity in which you take out your frustrations at not being to swim, wade or sit by digging holes all over the beach) than to basking in the sun and playing in the surf.

Most of the beaches in Washington are what tourism brochures refer to as “wet, wild, and rugged.” In other words, instead of sun you’ll have drizzle (pack your waterproof hoodie!); instead of sand you’ll find slick rocks, slimy mud and broken shells conjoined to make Hell’s own Slip-n-Slide (what your orthopedic surgeon will call “vacation home in Maui”); and whereas you will definitely have surf, it will be full of trees that are trying to kill you. No, seriously. Many beaches post signs that implore you not to turn your back on the water as large tree trunks are known to blast up on shore with the waves. Don’t believe me? Next time you’re on a Washington beach, look around at all the trunks strewn about. That’s right. Your beach comes with a body count.

Not to say that we don’t have beaches where you could theoretically dig your toes into the sand and not worry about lethal trees. We have Alki Beach in West Seattle, for instance. It’s still too cold for swimming, but at least the sand is somewhat warm…during the summer…in the middle of a heatwave. Now it’s been years since I’ve been there so let me pull some recent soundbites from Yelp: “good for beachcombing”; “…it had real sand!”; “the water was full of seaweed” (this guy was from Denmark and probably the only person to actually go IN the water); and my personal favorite…“You won’t have much to do if you don’t like being so close to the water” (which is either way existential or just plain stupid—there’s a fine line.) Frommer’s didn’t even mention the sand…or the seaweed for that matter. They went with “there are lots of cheap restaurants and places to buy sunglasses across the street.” Okay, I can sort of see the restaurant angle. If you’re going to spend $10 a day on coffee, you have to cut corners on your fish and chips. But sunglasses? I don’t know anyone from around here who doesn’t have five pairs: your “good ones”; the ones you actually wear; the ones that you won’t get too upset over if the dog eats them; the ones with the scratched lenses you keep in the car in case you find yourself at Alki Beach without a pair; and the welder’s helmet for that first day the sun comes out after six months of dreary drizzle. Not having sunglasses must be a tourist thing.

But I digress a little. Bodega Bay was nice and there must have been some beaches around there somewhere because there were surf shops, but given the cold ocean temperatures I figured that much like the Washington surf shops they sold blubber suits, earmuffs, heated boards, and maps to a secret beach where you could surf without fear of being poached. Editor’s Note: We did in fact pass by the entrance to a beach but they wanted $7 to enter. What if the beach was “wet, wild, and rugged”? We couldn’t take that chance. But Half Moon Bay is different. It had beaches all over the place! Editor’s Note: Free beaches! Small ones, long ones, some for surfing, some for fishing, some with dark sand, some golden and soft. We went to Mavericks Beach where in the winter they have waves that get up to 60 feet high and crazy people that actually surf them. We spent some time on Surfers Beach where the waves were not so high (and the people not so crazy). And we walked on one long beach that turned out to be five different beaches because apparently there’s a “no beach left behind” policy so room must be made for all of them. And when we’d exhausted the local beaches, we hopped on the bus that travels a stretch of the Pacific Coast Highway to gawk at all the beaches along there.

I guess if I had to come up with a reason for the sudden fascination with beaches, it’s probably because this is the first place that truly looks, feels, and even smells different from home. Familiarity is waning, giving way to anticipation, and that makes everything more exciting…even stretches of sand.

We weren’t able to comfortably go into the water—this is the end of September after all and we’re still somewhat in the northern climes—but for right now, we’re just thrilled to be able to walk along the surf’s edge and not freeze, sit on the sand and not have a damp butt, and gaze out at the Pacific without fear of a tree harpoon. I can only imagine what awaits us further south.

 

Pictured: Otter playing in the surf with a piece of wood.

Not Pictured: The tree it came off of. That's terrorizing a campsite in La Push, WA.