Carmel-by-the-Sea/Monterey Bay
June 26, 2022 - Reading time: 21 minutes
The drive from Oakhurst to Carmel was a short 3.5 hours. Our destination was a little boutique hotel called The Normandy Inn, just a few blocks from the beach for easy walking distance. Those who know me well, also know the ocean is my jam. I have had a love affair with the sea since the age of five when my dad stood me up on a second story deck bench at my great uncle's Edisto Beach house, pointed over my shoulder and informed me that the great expanse of wavy blue liquid on the other side of Palmetto Boulevard was called "the ocean." I took marine biology courses in high school and college. I've spent countless hours relaxing near the Atlantic on single day getaways and family vacations. I've seen the Gulf of Mexico several times and even spent a glorious week in Italy on the Mediterranean. But...until the day we drove to Carmel, I had never laid eyes on the Pacific, the granddaddy of all oceans. It had always been a dream of mine. A dream that was about to come true. As California Highway 156 merged onto Coastal Highway One, the road curved to the right just before the city of Marina and the magnificent shoreline came into view. I could hardly contain my excitement to focus on driving! I was instantly struck by the aquamarine color of the water. So different than the silty brown of the Atlantic.
Fast forward 15 minutes and we were parked at the hotel. We unloaded the luggage as quickly as possible, threw on sandals and hit the sidewalk! I couldn't stop smiling. My first impressions: 1) The sand and the water are COLD! 2) The waves were not as huge and curling (not on that particular beach) as I had imagined, but they were still big enough for the surfers in wetsuits.
3) Kelp, in deep green, long, leafy strands, washed up in patches just as Spartina does back east. 4) The Pebble Beach Golf Course is plainly visible on the right-hand edge of the Carmel-by-the-Sea cove. I had noticed it on Google Maps, but didn't realize just how easy it would be to see the course from the beach and spot the golfers. 5) I expected the cliffside edges, but didn't imagine how tall the sand dunes were as well. It was a bit of a hike down those soft, sandy dunes to the beach below and then afterwards, climbing back up, foot over foot into sinking sand, a feat best tackled wearing no shoes to gain the best footing. In short, it was a workout. An exhilarating workout. I was so pumped up the entire time.
After our beach walk, Preston and I grabbed showers and sought out a place for dinner. We found an authentic Greek restaurant two blocks away, The Dametra Cafe, and took an 8:00 pm reservation, the earliest they had available. I love Mediterranean cuisine and this night afforded me a chance to enjoy old favorites (hummus, tzatziki, warm pita, infused olive oil) and discover some new ones (spanakopita and baba ghanoush), with the appetizer sampler we ordered to share. This was followed by absolutely THE BEST Greek salad of my life, topped with melt in your mouth Gyros meat. The atmosphere matched the lively flavors. A guitar player walked among the tables, strumming upbeat traditional music and serenading with such exuberance that folks couldn't help but clap, laugh, and sing along. By the time we wrapped up this feast, only the faintest vestiges of purple-pink were left above the horizon of the sea when we exited the restaurant. The colors were diffuse, like a watercolor masterfully painted in the sky. I was a little disappointed that we had missed the full sunset during dinner, but I knew we had one more evening yet to go, so I didn't worry about it too much. Instead, we made the most of the darkness and carried two of the portable chairs we had packed down to the shore to admire the star-filled night on this other edge of America. We chatted for a bit allowing darkness to descend. Then we sat in quiet contemplation, scanning the layers of diamond lights spread out above us with the moon having set much earlier and the sound of mighty Pacific waves crashing just yards away. Suddenly, in unison we shouted, "A shooting star!" It was a fitting end to a fabulous day of firsts and a sublimely relaxing way to cap off a two week coast to coast journey.
Now, I have heard magnificent things about the nearby Monterey Bay Aquarium from so many people and I have no doubt that it is as top-notch as they come. But to be honest, I didn't want to view the wonders of the sea from behind the glass - I wanted to be IN it! So, we arose the next morning in great anticipation of what we had dubbed, "Whale Watching Wednesday." Oh, what a day! After researching several options, we reserved our places months in advance with Sanctuary Cruises aboard a small chartered boat and spent an amazing 3.5 hours with eight other passengers and two crew members (Captain Joey and Erika, a marine naturalist) in search of wildlife in the Monterey Bay. We didn’t have to look for long. We spotted two otters and a sea lion before even leaving the marina! Once in the open waters, the captain learned of a whale sighting 4 miles offshore, so off we went. We took turns sitting on the stern (in the back where the boat feels more stable) and on the bow up front to get the full effect of bouncing across the choppy waves with occasional sea sprays right to the face! What a deal - a boat ride and a cold shower! Still heading to the whale coordinates, the captain idled the engines after spotting a sea lion dining alone in the open water with an impressively large codfish in his mouth. Erika described how sea lions often like to "mad dog" their food after catching it, and sure enough, as if on cue, he began shaking his head vigorously side to side while keeping the fish clenched in his jaws. He was playing with his lunch and loving every second of it! It was hilarious.
Traveling further out, I spied two distinct spouts up ahead. The excitement in my soul was indescribable. It was a mother and calf humpback pair, actively feeding. At times the calf was nursing. We watched for over an hour as they surfaced and rolled and dived (for several minutes at times) and resurfaced, occasionally on the other side of the boat. Preston pointed his camera with each appearance. Though they never completely breached the water (a rare event), it was incredible to behold these beautiful, sentient creatures. Researchers continue to learn more about humpback whales with each passing year, recently compiling anecdotal evidence suggesting they have the capacity for altruism, as they have been known to attempt (and succeed at) rescuing other sea mammals from killer whale attacks, with no apparent benefit to the humpback. How cool is that? I was also amused by the number of birds flocking, circling overhead and closely tracking the whales in search of a lunch scraps. Seagulls are such opportunists.
Eventually leaving momma and baby to dine in peace, we headed toward another whale sighting farther down the coast. Before arriving, once again the boat slowed to a stop as a large lime green swath of water appeared portside. Like a chemical spill, the blue-water-turned-to-green simply glowed in the broad daylight as we idled into an enormous colony of moon jellies. Even the naturalist was amazed at this event, exclaiming that she had never before seen this many congregated in one area. It was surreal. Like a scene from the Avatar movie. No joke. Preston snapped photos, but the camera doesn't do justice to the depths with which our eyes could appreciate the columns of jellyfish several feet below and on up to the surface. Erika scooped one with a net so we could touch if we liked. She explained they do sting, but their nematocysts are imperceptible to humans, though she advised don't rub your eyes!
We did catch up to a second momma and calf pair, but they weren't nearly as active as the first. We only stayed to observe for about 20 minutes before heading back to the landing. The famous San Francisco fog from the north was beginning to roll in here and there and the captain thought it prudent to head back to shore. It had been quite the afternoon!
Back at the hotel and all cleaned up, Preston and I decided dinner would be of the fancier fare at the Mission Ranch, a hotel restaurant combination owned by Clint Eastwood about a mile away. I had heard rave reviews about the food and the outdoor patio seating overlooking the oceanside sheep pasture. The fog had other plans. It had thickened considerably by dinner time, so the view was mainly sleepy sheep huddled in a heap for warmth. The service and the food were outstanding, however. Preston had scampi over freshly made linguini. I opted for seared scallops over mushroom and spinach risotto. We paired them with a Pinot Grigio from Australia. Yum! We dined at 5:30 with the intention of saving time to watch the oceanside sunset we had missed the day before. Our final night in California. It was all or nothing. And yet, throughout dinner and on the drive back to the hotel the fog settled heavily. I was disappointed, but resigned nonetheless to make the best of it.
Preston, his belly full of pasta and feeling a little under the weather himself after hours on the boat, crashed in bed earlier than usual. I wasn't tired just yet, so I made a cup of decaf and moseyed outside to enjoy some fresh air on the hotel patio while we still had some daylight. I sat, sipped, and looked up. Lo and behold, there was a bright blue patch of sky peeking through the fog. I stood and walked in it's direction to the other side of the building. It was sunny over there! And as luck would have it, the breeze was moving those clouds slowly and surely away from the shore. Sunset was going to happen after all.
Popping back into the hotel room to grab my sandals, Preston was snoring. But it was okay. Totally okay. I grabbed my cell phone for photos and quickly walked to the beach to stand atop the main dune at the end of Ocean Avenue. And y'all...what I found was nothing short of a miracle! At least it was in my book. So humor me.
The sun was above the horizon, poised for the glorious descent it would soon make, and there...just 20 feet to my left and also facing the ocean was a lone man, in full kilt regalia, who began to play his bagpipe. What are the odds? Of all the beaches on the west coast, during the only Pacific Ocean sunset that I would witness, after waiting 53 years of my life, I was standing on the one where a concert like no other was about to take place. It was below 60 degrees outside. Few other folks were out on that Wednesday eve. But, but bless that bagpiper. He didn't flinch or stop until the last rays had sunk beneath the horizon.
And the soundtrack of my life came from that instrument.
First he played Here Comes the Sun. Then Amazing Grace and Beethoven's Ode to Joy (our wedding recessional). Finally, America the Beautiful (video linked beneath last photo of this entry). I sang the lyrics in my head and in my heart, and though I probably looked like a crazy person, I stood there by myself, facing the sun, tears rolling off my cheeks and just letting them flow. How did he know? "From sea to shining sea" indeed. I can't explain the how or the why or the coincidence or the magic behind any of this. I just know the universe was giving itself over to me in those moments and with reverential gratitude, I accepted the gift.
Link to America the Beautiful, a minute and a half in length
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ULTL5Ugl7jZXGBcfmcd-Q5yzcK2P0B_F/view?usp=sharing