Sunday was a cold, windy, and grey day along the coast, so naturally, Captain Jack (my significant other) and I went for a walk along the beach in Playa Del Rey.
Playa Del Rey is a sleepy little community two miles south of Venice and on the other side of Marina del Rey. I like the beach there. It's not as crowded as other LA beaches but it still has a nice So Cal vibe to it.
Sunday, however, the beach had a hardy New England vibe to it as the Pacific Ocean turned Atlantic grey with six foot swells and some agro surf pounding the shore.
As we walked, the wind pushed into us and sent the sand into our eyes. Even though I was bundled up in fleece, I did not enjoy the weather. Captain Jack was invigorated by it.
‘Doesn't it feel great? Makes you feel alive.' Captain Jack said with great enthusiasm. I shot him a look and stopped to tie my shoe. Unfortunately, his enthusiasm was undiminished by my complete lack of enthusiasm.
He spotted a mast from a large sailboat, and we walked toward it. At the water's edge, a large 35 foot sailboat was grounded in the sand. The mast was pointing out towards the ocean, and the bottom was pointing towards us on shore. Every time a wave hit the boat, water spilled out from the bottom.
‘Yeah, that bottom is definitely shredded. She probably broke from her anchor, scraped along the bottom and ended up here.' Captain Jack said. He loves coming up with theories. I didn't have any great insights to add to his theory because I was cold.
Meanwhile, out in the waves, a twenty-five foot sail boat was in trouble. It had no sails up and was being pounded in the waves and pushed toward the shore. A lifeguard boat and a harbor patrol boat were racing towards it. Three yellow lifeguard trucks pulled up on the beach. A lifeguard got out of the truck, tore off his t-shirt, threw on his flippers, and went out into the surf.
Was he rescuing someone? Was he trying to reach the sailboat or the rescue boat? We weren't sure what he was setting out to do, but punching his way through the grey water, he was definitely earning a paycheck.
Meanwhile, the sailboat, perpendicular to the shore, got caught on an eight foot wave and went vertical before disappearing down the other side. Everyone on the beach ooooed and ahhhhed. It's the power of nature, man.
Three or four waves later, the sailboat was up on the shore and sitting flat on the sand. A half dozen lifeguards were trying to hold it and keep it from spinning back out into the surf.
The swimming lifeguard came out of the water with a rope in his hand, and they tied it to the boat. The lifeguards turned the boat, so it was pointing back out toward the water. The lifeguard boat motored up. The sailboat on shore effortlessly slid back into the water and started following the lifeguard boat. It cut through the incoming waves as the lifeguard boat towed it out.
‘They'll probably tow it into Marina Del Rey and secure it there.' Captain Jack theorized.
‘That's nice. Can we go now?' I said. I felt I had seen the end of the story. Besides, I was shivering.
‘Woah, look at those two pirate ships out there.' Captain Jack said.
Sure enough, out on the horizon were two pirate ships heading towards Marina Del Rey. What were pirates doing out on a day like this?