Beach

For most people, the word ‘beach’ conjures visions of crystalline Caribbean waters, exotic South Seas islands, or coastal destinations around the U.S. Few would think of the Midwest, yet smack dab in the heartland a series of beaches encircle Lake Michigan like a string of pretty pearls. On a recent trip to Chicago I walked three miles along its lakefront, from the southernmost end of Grant Park to the northern tip of the Gold Coast, to visit the city’s three downtown beaches.

12th Street Beach, a delightful crescent cove at the foot of the Adler Planetarium

I began at 18th Street, where a narrow parcel of land known as Northerly Island juts into Lake Michigan. In 1909, renowned architect Daniel Burnham developed the Chicago Plan, which envisioned several man-made islands along the shores of the cobalt lake. Northerly Island, the only one that was actually built, was created from landfill and later converted into a peninsula. Now home to the Adler Planetarium, Shedd Aquarium, and Field Museum, the peninsula is commonly referred to as the Museum Campus. Here I discovered 12th Street Beach, a half-moon crescent cove hunkering at the bottom of a grassy slope behind the Planetarium. With its new beach house and free parking, 12th Street Beach is ideally located for a combined day of museum-going, picnicking, and sunbathing.

Swimmers, cyclists, joggers, and roller-bladers mass along the wide promenate connecting Ohio Street Beach with Oak Sreet Beach

From the Museum Campus I walked north along the lakefront. To my right, thousands of boats bobbed in the gently undulating waters of Lake Michigan. Grant Park stretched on my left, offering myriad opportunities to rest at landmarks such as Buckingham Fountain and the peaceful Cancer Survivors Garden. At Randolph Street I followed Lake Shore Drive as it curved to the east, crossing the Chicago River and strolling past the behemoth Ferris wheel at Navy Pier before entering Milton Lee Olive Park. Meandering pathways guided me back to the shores of the lake and Ohio Street Beach, a tiny pocket of sand tucked between Lake Shore Drive and a breakwater.

Oak Street, crown jewel of the three beaches in downtown Chicago

Although Ohio Street Beach has no services it provides excellent access to Oak Street Beach, a mile or so to the north, via a wide promenade that runs along the water’s edge. I walked its crowded length, keeping one eye peeled for mow-you-down cyclists and the other trained on swimmers clad in sleek neoprene suits and skullcaps who swim a mile along the promenade each day, weather permitting.

John Hancock Center looms over Oak Street Beach

Without a doubt, Oak Street Beach is the crown jewel of the three downtown beach parks. Located at the northern end of North Michigan Avenue, it is ringed by skyscrapers and landmark hotels that grace Chicago’s Magnificent Mile. Beneath the looming black John Hancock tower, beach-goers sprawl on colorful towels in the wide, soft sand or join a pickup volleyball game at one of several nets set up by the city. Concessions, restrooms, and a waterfront outdoor restaurant are available, but there is no parking; this is definitely a walk-to beach. Strangely, palm trees lined the shore. They were obviously new and recently planted, leading me to speculate whether they could possibly survive Chicago’s often brutal winter weather. I guess I’ll just have to come back this winter to find out; it’s as good an excuse as any to return to this great city!

Article and photos by Barbara Weibel of Hole In The Donut Travels

Today I am taking a departure from my usual sandy path, a trip inland somewhere far, far away. Because today’s post is not so much a beach as it is a river. And it is not so much just a river as it is “the most beautiful river in the world,” also known as “the river of five colors,” or even more poetic, “the river that ran away to the world.” With monikers such as these, how can I not write about Caño Cristales?

Count the colors. http://www.flickr.com/photos/10162032@N03/952959556/

I have been slightly bewitched ever since I first saw photos of Caño Cristales a few days ago. And now I must add this river to my list of Places I Must See Before I Die or Get Too Lazy to Travel, although apparently I need to plan accordingly. Because Caño Cristales is not always worthy of a poetic name. For most of the year it is just a regular old river with maybe some pretty green moss covered rocks and water that is at times dark blue. Nice, but not worthy of around the world or me pining.

This is algae? http://www.flickr.com/photos/kaytaria/3769825917/

Located in La Macarena National and Ecological Reserve Park, Caño Cristales is about 100km in length. During Colombia’s rainy season, the water flows fast and deep as rivers are wont to do. The bottom of the river is obscured from the sun, denying the myriad of mosses light. And during the dry season the river is not quite deep enough; the lack of water unable to support the growth of algae. But during a magical period between the wet and dry seasons, when the water level is just right, the many varieties of algae and moss bloom in a dazzling display of colors: blotches of fuschia, dabs of yellow, swaths of green, bright blue, black, red, all set off by dramatic waterfalls and lazy watering holes.

Rainbow river complete with waterfalls. http://www.flickr.com/photos/fredygomez/3537191787/

There is something other-wordly about these photos, about this place. A cross between fantasy and reality, I half expect to see a unicorn grazing at the bank of this river, “the river that ran away to the world.”

In college my beach was Avila. Of course with Cal Poly so close by, I think Avila beach is the beach preferred by many a San Luis Obispo college student.

View from beneath. http://www.flickr.com/photos/g-hat/317544673/

Located in an unincorporated area of San Luis Obispo county, the small town of Avila began as a shipping port for the central coast, and later, a fishing village. Nowadays there are still fisherman on the pier. But mostly, the small town is centered around the beach itself and the short strip of beach-town shops, restaurants and bars that line this stretch of coastline.

The beach itself is small– less than half a mile long and sheltered inside the San Luis Bay. Avila faces south and is protected from the prevailing northwesterly winds by Point San Luis, making it warmer than most beaches in the area, less windy. There are often surfers dotting the water, swimmers, and many, many sunbathers.

Pier pilings. http://www.flickr.com/photos/gordonb/5095521/

In addition, there are three piers off the beach: Avila Beach Pier, intended for tourist strolling and recreational fishing, Harford Pier, for commercial fishing boats to offload their wares, and the Cal Poly Pier, part of the university’s marine research program and thus not publicly accessible.

Avila beach and Point San Luis. http://www.flickr.com/photos/g-hat/317544673/

There is a certain charm to Avila, both the beach itself and the town. It’s small there, quaint even, but slightly musty as most beach towns are. Dogs are allowed on the beach at certain times, a fishing license is not required; there are picnic tables, public restrooms, weddings often take place here, though a permit is required.

Located roughly 9 miles southwest of San Luis Obispo, take the winding road through See Canyon with its orchards, farms and wineries until you hit the ocean. This is Avila.

Treasure island, Florida is home to three of the loveliest beaches along Florida’s Gulf Coast, each of which has a totally different personality. Part one of this series reviewed the Main (Municipal) Beach Park, a superb choice for families that offers a full array of facilities. Part two examined Sunset Beach, a party hearty beach located on the southern end of the island. Rounding out the trio is Sunshine Beach, located on the far northern tip.

Sunshine Beach, on the northern tip of Treasure Island

Undoubtedly the least visited of the three, Sunshine Beach begins at Johns Pass jetty, where a small pier marks the inlet separating Treasure Island from the community of Madeira Beach to the north. As this part of the island is more residential than commercial, there are no large public beach accesses, thus parking is limited. Here and there, smaller pullouts provide access to one of the half-dozen wooden walkovers tucked between quaint beach cottages and mid-rise condos.

Once across the low, sea oat covered dunes, crystalline turquoise waters lap gently at the shore and the beach stretches for miles. Swimming is allowed here, although beach-goers are strongly advised to stay far back from the rock jetty and pier while in the water, as strong currents can throw swimmers into the rocks. But aside from the potential strong currents in the area, Sunshine Beach is nearly perfect. Facing into the wind, seagulls decorate the shoreline like popcorn strung on a Christmas tree. Here and there, pockets of unblemished shells congregate in the soft white sand. The only breaks in the unblemished beach are occasional wooden stakes wrapped orange ribbon that mark the sites where sea turtles climbed up on the beach to lay their eggs in the soft sand.

Volunteer groups mark turtle nests with wooden stakes

Most days, the beach is virtually deserted; there are no frisbees flying overhead, no drunken bashes, no trash – for that matter there are no trash cans, so be prepared to carry out everything you carry in. Sunshine Beach offers a true escape from reality, if only for a day. And at the end of the day, civilization is not far away, since the Treasure Island is a mere three miles long.

Article and photos by Barbara Weibel of Hole In The Donut Travels

About as big as the waves get. http://www.flickr.com/photos/jkup/2377927760/

Just the name is easy. Chicken Ranch Beach, a small nugget of child-friendly beach located on Tomales Bay. Although finding it is not so: there is no sign. The entrance is covered by brush. Just look for the cars, though, parked along Sir Francis Drake Boulevard just past the town of Inverness. This is where the going gets easy when the easy get going.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/artolog/69539770/

The beach at Chicken Ranch is a mix of sand and ground up shells, mostly oyster shells. I recommend wearing some sort of waterproof shoe if you want to go in the water as there are areas with sharper shells. (I tell my daughter that the oyster shells are the fingernails of mermaids. She believes me, and I sort of believe myself.) The water here is warmer than anywhere else in the West Marin, shallow, calm. There are usually throngs of kids and adults swimming here. Chicken Ranch Beach is also a popular spot to put in kayaks, canoes and other small water crafts.

Be forewarned, however, although Chicken Ranch Beach is easy on the eyes, easy to get to, easy for dog-owners, easy to stay with little to no wind and warm water, there are not a lot of amenities here. One porta-potty stands in the sun for those brave souls who really have to go; fires are not permitted and no camping.

Who needs Australia, (Hawaii, Belize, Mexico, fill in the blank beautiful beach) when you can have the relative ease of La Jolla Cove? Sandwiched between striking sandstone cliffs, this small cove is one of the most photographed beaches in Southern California.

View from above. http://www.flickr.com/photos/87938933@N00/3542444107/

And it’s no wonder really. La Jolla Cove is stunning: bright blue water set against white cliffs, palm trees, scuba divers (water visibility is known to exceed 30 feet!), swimmers, sunbathers. Pelicans fly overhead while Harbor Seals smile contentedly, fat spotted bellies spread flat against hot sand.

After the fog burns off. http://www.flickr.com/photos/chizhang/3595775317/

It’s the scenery for which postcards are made, engagement photos, Enya songs. On the cliffs overhead ground squirrels fairly scamper about brazenly, much to the amusement of tourists who feed them bits of Starbucks petite vanilla scones.

Nom nom nom. http://www.flickr.com/photos/55963607@N00/468027979/

The official address for La Jolla Cove is 1100 Coast Boulevard, but you can also find it by looking beneath Scripps Park. The cove is within walking distance to the downtown hamlet of La Jolla, a coastal community chock full of swank restaurants, bars, tony stucco houses and seaside shops.

Due to the popularity of La Jolla Cove, lifeguards are stationed year-round. “Swimming devices” (surfboards, boogie boards, even inflatable mattresses) are not permitted at the cove, and this rule is carefully enforced by the lifeguards, specifically the part defined as the Ecological Reserve. There is no disabled access at La Jolla Cove because of the steep incline down to the beach. Additionally, there are no parking lots, and street parking (metered during the week) fills up quickly on summer weekends. It’s best to come early, park downtown in one of the paid lots, or stroll down to the beach from the palm-lined streets above.

While the main beach parks in the center of Treasure Island, Florida may be the ideal family environment (read part one of my Treasure Island Beach review here), residents are complaining that the island’s smaller Sunset Beach is quickly gaining the community a reputation as “Trash Island” rather than Treasure Island.

Located on the far southern tip of the small Gulf Coast community, Sunset Beach has always been a popular party destination, but lately the partying seems to have gotten out of hand; some community members are describing the situation as an unending Spring Break. During a recent meeting of city commissioners, residents bellyached about piles of beer cans left on the sand, overflowing trash bins, public drunkenness, illegally parked cars, and disrespectful tourists who trespass on private property to get to the beach rather than using the public accesses. One woman even claimed that she must keep her children indoors during the weekend, when the crowds are the largest, because visitors constantly urinate in her front yard, right out in the open.

A rare deserted day on Sunset Beach - the way it used to be before being discovered by hordes of partiers

Commissioners are considering a list of suggested remedies provided by residents, among them a ban on alcohol during certain hours of the day. Other ideas include residential parking permits, banning kegs and even breathalyzers in parking lots. But the local police are not waiting for a final plan to be put into place; there are now five officers patrolling Sunset Beach on a regular basis, ticketing people for indecent behavior and towing illegally parked cars.

Beach-goers who want to experience the eye candy of the party scene may still want to head for Sunset Beach, but families would be well advised to stick to the main Treasure Island Beach Parks at 104th and 112th Avenues on Gulf Boulevard.

Article and photos by Barbara Weibel at Hole In The Donut Travels

I tried to learn how to surf once. My boyfriend (who is now my husband) bought me a longboard for my birthday and took me out surfing in Cayucos. It was almost impossible to paddle out–me with my noodle arms that earned me the childhood nickname “T-Rex.” But I did it and there we were, bobbing in the ocean that suddenly seemed so much bigger than it ever had from the sand. “Look!” my boyfriend said, “Dolphins!” And then he took the next wave in and left me there to wonder how he was so sure those fins were that of dolphins smiling smart and not those of sharks most certainly out to eat me. I never did surf again, my arms too skinny and my imagination too fat, and my boyfriend eventually commandeered my birthday present longboard as his own, which I somehow think was the plan all along.

I don’t know how surfers do it–bob out there with nothing but a board and their thoughts. I am too macabre, too weak, too yellow maybe, my toes tingling with the maybe of it all. So what if more people die from car crashes, wasps, from snakes and bees, from drowning? There is just something about a shark that holds a special place primal cold in my nightmares. So in honor of Shark Week, I give you three of the World’s Sharkiest Beaches (based on nothing but my own research of the www):

Catch of the day. http://www.flickr.com/photos/zainedriscoll/3623710592/

New Smyrna Beach, Florida holds the dubious honor of being called The Shark Attack Capital of the World. Surrounded on all sides by water–the Atlantic Ocean, the Intracoastal Waterway, Mosquito Lagoon and Indian River–New Smyrna Beach boasts subtropical weather ideal not only for tourists and beach-goers, but also attractive to sharks: tiger sharks, blacktips, spinners and more. Given the large shark population and the increasing amount of people swmming and surfing in the waters just off the coastline, it is no wonder New Smyrna Beach holds the title of Shark Capital of the World.

Cape of Good Hope. http://www.flickr.com/photos/haakon/10398408/

Of course no discussion of shark attacks would be complete without mention of the coastline of South Africa. Here there has been documented footage of Great Whites leaping from the water to feast on seals, a watery ballet of grisy proportion. And it doesn’t even truly matter which particular beach you choose on South Africa’s eastern coastline—from Cape Town, up the Garden Route, and beyond to Durban. The entire area is famously shark infested. The fishing village of Gansbaai near Cape Town, for example, is known as Shark Alley for its unrivaled density of great whites. And the mouth of Kosi Bay in KwaZulu Natal, is known for its aggressive Zambezi, or bull sharks. Something tells me that it is of little solace to know that most shark attacks are a case of mistaken identity, a shark’s way of poking at something to see what it is. When the poke in question produces a deep gash down the side of one’s innards, it is of no matter that you are not a sea lion but a surfer.

How it got its name. http://www.flickr.com/photos/89044634@N00/24548709/

And then there is the poetically named Red Triangle, that is if the poet were Edgar Allen Poe and the subject the tell-tale shark attack. The Red Triangle is the name given to the roughly triangle-shaped area off the coast of Northern California extending from Bodega Bay, north of San Francisco, out to the Farallon Islands and down to Big Sur. The waters here are snack-rich, full of marine life such as elephant seals, harbor seals, sea otters and sea lions, favorite cuisine of the Great White Shark. Around thirty-eight percent of recorded Great White Shark attacks on humans in the United States have occurred within the Red Triangle – eleven percent of the worldwide total. And it just so happens that the Red Triangle includes my hometown beaches of Stinson, Bolinas, Tomales Bay where the sharks mate, and Ocean Beach where my husband now surfs sheathed in a black wet suit looking for all the world like a seal, a little gamey but good. Here the Great White rides at the tippy top of the food chain, fish and seals at the bottom, and surfers and swimmers only a half notch up from that.

So there you go. From my primal fear to yours, keep your toes tingling and stay dry–Happy Shark Week!

Swimwear 2009 themes are giving me a serious flashback to the beach style in Sydney, Australia when I lived there in the late 80s / early 90s. Australia, mecca to surfers and beach culture, is the birthplace of major surf labels like Mambo, Billabong and Rip Curl, to name just a few. I loved, loved, loved the fluoro (neon) colors an was particularly fond of anything in the orange spectrum, as well as the bold and simple patterns. But, like all reinvented fashion, garish neon colors have been modernized with sophisticated, and sometimes restrained, color palettes and combined with edgy design elements.

For women, triangle tops remain a staple, but updated with punky patterns and colors like Roxy’s Venice Beach Tiki Tri Bikini.

Bandeau tops, a classic 1950s silhouette, take on an edgy twist with look-at-me elements juxtaposed with elegant color palettes like Seafolly’s Bardot bandeau, and Insight’s Skywalker Bikini.

Bikini by Insight

And the full piece, once the suit of choice for those preferring modesty, is looking much sexier than the bikini these days with midriff cut outs and bold graphics like Volcom’s Knotty One Piece.

Men traditionally have had less selection on shape (it’s a choice of either speedos or boardies, unfortunately) have much more variation with strong graphical elements like chevrons, circles and stripes, even mish-mashed together, offer variation such as the Reef Technic Boardshort, which I find just plain fun to look at.

I especially love how the colors and cut of these Insight Retro Stud Mid Boardshorts work together for a modern take on a 1960s length.

As a photographer, boardies with photo transfers are my personal favorite, as seen here with the masculine design of Rusty’s Smoke Em 20, which reminds me of Donald Sultan’s large format smoke ring photographs.

Boardies by Rusty

I admit, writing for a beach blog, very few beaches take my breath away. Usually, as soon as I lay my eyes on a beach a sense of relief overcomes me and immediately a sense of reassurance, a sense that everything is, for that very moment [in my world], going to be all right. Then there is Playa Kenepa, on the western end of Curacao. Coming up on the beach I could not believe what I was seeing.

All the elements of ‘amazing’ were present: Cove – check, rocky outcroppings – check, soft sand – check, crystal clear azure waters – double check. In fact, it is so amazing that apparently another Caribbean island took a picture of Playa Kenepa and tried to market it as a piece of paradise found only on their island!

Playa Kenepa, Curacao

I was fortunate enough to see Playa Kenepa from three angles and each one was fantastic. First was from above. Walking towards the beach and seeing it reveal itself in between tree branches sent goose bumps up and down my neck and arms. It was as if I knew I had stumbled upon something special. The view from above was spectacular. Twenty-something feet above the water you could not see where the waves met the rock’s edge but you can definitely see the sandy floor and the coral rocks below. The view was overwhelming and I could not help myself, I needed to get down there FAST.

It was not until I broke the surface after my twenty-something foot plunge that I fully realized what I had just done. I remember thinking before leaping “Always aim for the darkest spot” and at the same time while in mid air “Where is the darkest spot?”

Once back on shore I looked out to the open ocean. My second view of Kenepa was perfectly framed by the two rocky cliffs that created the cove effect. I felt like I was in a TV ad, all I needed was a buzzing Blackberry to use as a skipping stone. There were people there, locals and tourists and some local proprietors selling snacks, beer and renting out beach chairs. A little touristy for my taste but the setting more than made up for it. I was fortunate enough be there on a weekday in the early afternoon, I would return to Kenepa later on in my trip only to find it swarming with people. The west side of Curacao is not as developed as the east where the majority of the population and tourists can be found so it is easily understandable that Kenepa was a hot weekend spot.

The most common mode of transportation to Kenepa would be by car but I wondered if there is a better way of getting to this place. I did – by boat.

From my studio overlooking Playa Grandi I noticed fishermen coming in and out regularly. Seeing as I was already on the west side of the island I wondered if I could convince one of the fishermen to swing around the coast and take me to Kenepa.

The boat ride was very relaxing and each time we came upon a beach it was like a surprise because they were all hidden way behind rock formations that were all made of dead coral. Needless to say, turning into Kenepa took my breath away, and once again I found myself in the water and this time waving good-bye to my friendly fisherman who just smiled, waved and shook his head.

By Sebastien Tobler

Colliding Continents