Some destinations are hard to find, even when they glow in the dark
It's all about the journey, blah blah blah
Last night, after being seduced by a few news reports, I drove all over Orange County looking for bioluminescent waters. A quick primer here, on bioluminescence and the algae that creates it, if you aren’t familiar. I am making paintings for an upcoming show about visual disruptions in landscape painting, and what it signifies about the land that it portrays. These visuals are right up my alley so I thought it would make good research to go and see them in person.
An Instagrammer had posted a ton of great photos and locations of his nightly visit to the blue waves yesterday but hadn’t made any predictions for the night yet. I also checked NBC LA and Orange County Wilderness’ accounts which had posted locations for the past few nights, but again nothing.
So it was a risk. I reasoned that if masses of floating plankton had been clustering at the beaches for the last week, it was highly probable they would be doing so again tonight. But where, and how would I get there? And ugh, it takes so much time. Am I sure I want to commit to this?
My night of art viewing had ended early, so I decided I would seize the night and go. Best case scenario I would see glorious blue waves for my paintings, and worst, I spend a night exploring southern California and be a little bored - errr, or hopefully not much worse than that.
It was 8:30pm-ish as I began my slow descent to the string of beaches along the Pacific Coast Highway, starting with Huntington Beach. I remember passing Orange Street which led into a local neighborhood in Huntington Beach, and thinking, hmm I wonder if I should stop? But it felt so random that I just kept going towards the more obvious parking lot off Hwy 1 with a lookout point.
At this point, I felt there were some obvious similarities between this wild goose chase of a night, and the craziness of moving to LA in my 40s without anything tethering me here trusting that it would work out. And what exactly does working out mean? It’s not like I have a real goal in mind. There are no blue waves at the end of my LA journey - if there even is an end. If only the destination was so obvious and glow-in-the-dark.
From that lookout point, I didn’t see anything glowing in the water below, so I continued south. I drove down to Seal Beach, Newport Beach, and what I thought would be the mecca of supernatural-looking surf, Crystal Cove. Photos from the previous night reported surfing and boogie boarders delighting in the brightest iridescent blue waves you have ever seen.
What I hadn’t expected is that so many of Orange County’s beaches are either private or closed after a certain hour. I’m new to LA and don’t know the ins and outs, but it reminded me of the scene in The Big Lebowski when the Malibu cop starts beating up the dude snarling in his face, “Keep your ugly, f***ing, gold-bricking a** out of my beach community.”
Who does have access to these beaches? I wondered. And how are they getting all these photos? I want in.
By the time I got down to Crystal Cove only to find it thoroughly gated, I was beginning to feel disheartened, and just a little nuts. It was 10pm-ish and I had been meandering through various neighborhoods and side street parking lots for over an hour. The one State Park entrance I found was closed, and just as I was leaving the parking lot, a Parks enforcement vehicle drove by, perhaps a mild warning.
I tried one more spot nearby in a neighborhood back up the PCH and found a couple people on a trail that had experienced the blue water for themselves. The woman I asked said they had just come from Corona Del Mar. She conveyed her journey to me in a riddle-like series of details. The spot they found was like a lake, but it’s actually the ocean. You go down some stairs and climb over some rocks. At the bottom, there’s a private-looking beach. Her friend and she were able to wade in the water, and when your feet splashed you could see the bioluminescence.
Not really enough to go on, but I thanked her and drove back up the PCH to Corona Del Mar, hopeful that I might find something. At this point, it’s about 10:30pm and I am beginning to doubt myself and the whole enterprise. I see signs for Corona Del Mar, but can’t for the life of me find what they were talking about.
I ended up at an open public and was able to walk down to the shore. I kicked my shoes off and dug them into the sand. When my feet hit water’s edge, I was disappointed to see that there was nothing but boring old water to meet them. I hastily grab my shoes and march back to my car. On my way back through the sand dunes I realize that on any other night, the ocean at night is magnificent and maybe I shouldn’t be so spoiled. How about appreciating the journey, Sarah, I told myself feeling crazier than ever.
Do I give up? I have been looking for hours at this point with no guarantee that I will ever strike blue gold. Maybe the little plankton took a night off. What am I even doing here, an hour plus from home in the middle of the night?
At this point, I felt there were some obvious similarities between this wild goose chase of a night, and the craziness of moving to LA in my 40s on a feeling, without anything tethering me here and just trusting that it would work out. And what exactly does working out mean? It’s not like I have a real goal in mind for the long run. There are no blue waves at the end of my LA journey - if there even is an end. If only my destination was so obvious and glow-in-the-dark.
I felt the inclination to spiral, and decided I would head back to preserve my energy. It was already 11pm and I was exhausted. On a whim, I checked the Instagrammer’s stories one last time before I got on the freeway. Gasp! There, as of 30 minutes ago, were videos of radiant blue waves in Huntington Beach, a quick 15-minute drive north.
I hit the pedal to the metal down the 1, and then (slowly) wound my way into a small neighborhood filled with bicyclists cruising along the quiet residential streets. I quickly found a parking spot and a beach outlet. As I dug my feet into the sand, taking a moment to appreciate it for what it was, I hoped that I would find what I was looking for. But I made the pact with myself that I would appreciate a completely dark ocean as much as if I had found the bioluminescent ones. I already drove hours to be here so I have to accept it for what it is, I told myself.
Luckily I didn't have to put that resolve to the test. As I approached I could make the waves out in the dark lighting, a faint contrast between the whitewash and the murky blackness. Some waves stood out more, but maybe it was just my eyes? But were those flecks of color? Sure enough, there was light blue, almost green light emanating from the water and I cheered out loud and ran closer, pumping my fist as if I had made the last out in the 7th inning (softball only has 7).
No one around me seemed surprised by my outburst. Up and down the beach people gathered, cheering at the really bright ones. It was not as bright or as blue as I had seen online, much the way northern lights look different and less green in person. But sure enough those waves were glowing. Iridescent light shot through the contours of the water, and almost sizzled at the points where the water rubbed against itself like an electric current. At times a wave would crash across the entire length of the bay at once, creating a a solid wall of glowing water. Magnificent.
Finally, around midnight, I decided I better pack it in for the hour's drive home. As I left the neighborhood and exited onto the PCH, I looked at the sign and guess what it said? Orange Street. Remember that street I mentioned at the beginning, hours earlier?
I laughed and was simultaneously delighted at having come full-circle to this spot. And also pissed off that I had waited so long to end up where I was supposed to be. Why couldn’t I have just come here earlier to look? Would it have really taken that much time?
I have written before about the idea that we might never really miss out on our destiny. I don’t want to read into this too much one night, but I feel like maybe this is a little hint from the universe that regardless of how astray I go, I will get to where I need to be.
And my next question is, where is that?
I’m so glad you finally found a beach with the bioluminescence! It looks magical. (What an ordeal to get there though!)
I’m glad you found the blue wave.