up and down: Santa Catalina

This place is so green, and lush. The soil is a dark red. The clouds, a rich, heavy grey that makes the greens explode.

The coastline, is lined with green hills, spotted with trees, and covered in soft grass. The grass meadows end sharply with rich brown, almost copper, cliffs. The soil has been exposed to, and devoured by, the sea. Trees hang precariously, clinging to the muddy meadow, but being called towards the ocean by the pulling waves. This coastline continues for miles, as far as you can see, coves, inlets and capes wind their way in either direction.

The sucking sea draws back over the volcanic bedrock and black sands, leaving a white trail as it flows and reforms into another rolling wave. Turtles breath just behind the surf line, almost inquisitively, surfacing and looking around before diving. Its their mating season, and females are laying eggs nearby.

The surf is fun, small rights curve off a point with an abandoned house in a once prime position on the cliff watching on.

I surf until my arms are exhausted, and my back is screaming, I haven’t surfed for this long in years. And I want more. In two days the good swell arrives, and this place is going to be incredible. Today I surfed alone, and yesterday, a Sunday, with only two other people, both friends in the water.

Three days later, after many waves, lots of pasta and rice, and some fine times, I paddled out early in the morning to cooking glassy conditions. I tried to get waves and ended up getting frustrated instead. After the surf, I decide to leave. I am not here to get frustrated. Time to move on. Next stop, the mountains of Bouqete. So long Santa Catalina, lord protect you through the times of surging popularity ahead. Stay cool.