Beach

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!

Northern California beaches can usually be classified as one of two types: large wild expanses of dunes and ice plants, Great Beaches, if you will, and smaller beaches nestled between cliffs, great in their own right. Muir Beach is one such smaller beach, a strip of coastline south of the Point Reyes National Seashore.

View from the south end. http://www.flickr.com/photos/fatmandy/3189241742/

Located just off 101 north of the Golden Gate Bridge, Muir Beach is 6 winding miles from the Hwy 1 exit. Nestled in a coastal valley at the edge of Mount Tamalpais, the small “town” of Muir Beach is comprised of 150 homes, the nearby Muir Woods National Monument, Green Gulch Farm/Zen Center, Slide Ranch and, of course the “old” English Pub, The Pelican Inn. There is a medium sized dirt parking lot that is rarely full, and one must walk across a small bridge and a wooden walkway over the lagoon to get to the beach. The area is rife with wildlife: butterflies, deer, frogs, salmon, fox, coyote, and yes–sharks Great White and otherwise have been spotted in the water here.

Shark carcass decaying on the rocks. http://www.flickr.com/photos/orangejoshuas/3345107157/

The beach itself is usually filled with families: kids and birthday parties, boogie boarders, teenagers, some surfers. Down the beach to the right a few hundred yards is the unofficial nude beach. Here there are obviously naked people, but there are also excellent tide pools and some very friendly seals that like to warm themselves on the sand. (The seals are also nude, you see.)

Muir Beach offers a range of very basic amenities: pit toilets, water, trash cans and picnic tables are all located at the south end of the parking lot. Fires are permitted in fire rings only, three of which are on the beach toward the south end. Pets are allowed, albeit on leashes to protect wildlife.

I owe the cluster of freckles on my shoulders from summers spent at Stinson Beach, the smattering of teeny dots left over from a terrible teenage rebellion against sunscreen, the inevitability of aging and my mother nagging me about the danger of melanoma. Oblivious to anything but the draw of the sun and cute boys who surfed, I would pile into my friend’s Volkswagen Bug and speed over the hill and to the beach, the window wide open because the car leaked a constant cloud of gasoline fumes from beneath the dashboard. Once there we would rub ourselves with oil, no SPF, cooking oil really, but somehow it smelled of coconut and young. We squeezed lemon on our hair and flicked on our portable radio, listened to reggae and laid out.

View from the bluff over Stinson Beach. http://www.flickr.com/photos/jweiss3/473570667/

These days I’m all about SPF 50+. I know that lemon only dries out one’s hair and there is this spot on the back of my hand that maybe-might-possibly-please-say-it-’aint-so-but-admittedly is an age spot. The last thing I laid out is an outfit for work the next day. Still I love Stinson Beach. The wide beach, the lifeguards in the summer, the smell of corn dogs and french fries wafting from the little cafe. I love the way that everything is a little brighter at Stinson Beach, the water a smidgeon bluer than up the coast, the sand almost white and clean. Stinson Beach is the closest to a Southern California beach one can get without having to drive through the traffic of Los Angeles.

Surfers at Stinson. http://www.flickr.com/photos/monkeythumbsca/357256755/

In addition to the beach itself, Stinson boasts such facilities as rest rooms, (cold) showers, picnic areas, bbq grills and plenty of parking, making this an ideal beach for a party or family gathering. If you don’t want to cook for yourself but find yourself hungry after a beach walk, a tasty snack bar is open during summer months at the base of the main lifeguard tower.

Regardless of your interests, Stinson Beach has a bit of something for everyone: surfing, kayaking, hiking, beach combing, volleyball or just snoozing on the sand. Do watch out while in the water, though. Not only are there sneaker waves and fierce rip currents, but there have also been a few documented Great White shark attacks in the area. Luckily, the water is usually quite cold and not entirely inviting.