A few days ago my Peedrow buddy Tim and I went paddling off Point Fermin. It was the first time I had gone out on the ocean since my failed landing in August. The Pacific lived up to its name: peaceful, flat, calm. Our journey started with pelicans by the tide pools. Then the sea lions greeted us at the buoy. Looking toward Point Fermin, I saw fins breaking the surface. A family of white-sided Pacific dolphins — my favorite porpoises — came to greet us. An adult led the way, followed by a smaller dolphin shadowed by a baby. This breed of dolphins are smaller and more active than the common dolphins that we typically see off San Pedro; usually they travel in groups, not nuclear units. This trio headed straight for us, parting around us then coming back for more. I felt welcomed back to the water I cherish, home again.
We were heading north when we spotted something floating between us and Catalina.”Let’s check it out,” I urged Tim. We paddled toward Twin Harbor, and the dark spot on the ocean turned out to be a giant sea lion, taking a siesta in the quiet ocean. It lay on its side, side flippers and tail in the air, as we quietly circled around it. I have been working as a volunteer with the animals at the Marine Mammal Care Center in San Pedro, so I wanted to make sure it was okay. It seemed more than okay: beatific in fact, Zen and in bliss in its moment of still harmony in the Pacific. We circled this floating, breathing sculpture quietly, then said goodbye. On we paddled, past garibaldi and kelp, where nature meets city — San Pedro.