I was born in Carmel, but I sometimes imagine I was born undersea right here, right below this set of rocks at Lover's Point, Pacific Grove, Monterey Peninsula, California. Not sure why, but I do.When I started free diving solo about fifteen years ago, this is the place I chose. It was a rough, unsunny, somewhat stormy day, unlike the bright shine in this photo. Rough water, great time. That's been the pattern since, too.
These rocks are the gates of adventure and magic for me.
When in doubt of where to dive, I'll run down to Pacific Grove, suit up, and jump on in. Swim round the Point and back again. Find those fish. Delve into the kelpy depths. Go down and up again, over and over--far more fun than it sounds. If the swell is running just a bit, hitch a ride through the surge channels on the nose of the Point, checking out the giant anemones in the crevices on the fly; or, hold that breath and plant myself to take photos of those Big Greens, braced between rocks as the waves push and pull: click, click, click. If the swell is running high, swim with the surfers, ducking under the breakers as needed, and feel the surge, absorb the pitch and purge bone-deep. When that happens, I always sleep quite well, rocked into slumber by the memory in the muscles and the mind. I also tend to be fairly beat from the workout. All good.
