My life on the beach

From 1987 to 1990 I lived alone on one of the beaches on this list. My home then was a broken down old 1963 Frito Lay Potato Chip van. I was arguably the closest permanent resident in California to the sea, as I often had to start my van to move to high ground during extreme high tides, or when big storms came through. More than once I came home to discover my beach furniture (all made of driftwood) was vanished and stolen away by sneaky waves which reached up and swirled around my van’s tires. Leaving wet ropes of seaweed in its place.

My front yard then consisted of 20 miles of the most beautiful coastline in the world. I spent so many night wandering the sands alone. My only neighbors and company on my walks were the “moondogs” as I called them, which were the reflection of the pale moon in the wet sands. My moondogs walked with me everywhere on clear nights. While on stormy winter nights I had the battering and incessant roar of winds, and the deafening crash of waves which sometimes topped 80 feet and collided with sea stacks with enough force to wake me with fear deep at night. Causing me to peek out my window in fear of the rogue wave I was sure would one day sweep my van and I out to sea.

I lived three years alone on that beach. From age 21 to 24. I learned them more than I think I can relate now. Those years made me in fact. They showed me the way to solitude. And helped me to discover the powerful countering force of family. I met Yumiko then. And perhaps it was the solitude of my life on the beach which made me realize I could not and would not ever let her go.

For the record Luffenholtz Beach (on the list) was just around the corner from my own beach which is called Moonstone.

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