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5: The Beach

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    31569
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    One night in the summer of 1983 while headed to Los Angeles in a cramped VW Beetle to start graduate school, I drove along a dusty dirt road in Northern California toward a beach campground known as Gold Bluffs. According to my tattered tour book, the campground offered views of coastal redwood trees and the Pacific Ocean, and since I had three weeks to spare before school started, I thought I would check it out.

    The next morning I awoke to thunderous surf. Rolling out of my tent, I felt like I had stepped back into the Land of the Giants (Allen 1968). Mammoth redwood trees stood like sentinels on hundred-foot cliffs, guarding Earth, shrouded in a dense mist, seemingly frozen in time. At the base of the cliffs, several gigantic trees lay upended, tossed to their death on the beach below. They were no match for the wallop packed by the Pacific Ocean during a storm, a bitter war between land and sea waged across the millennia.

    As I sat on a weathered picnic table eating Cheerios from the box—because that’s what you do when you’re camping—I heard a sound. Out of the gloomy mist and morning chill, beyond the breakers and a few sparse blades of kelp, I saw a gray whale surface and expel his lungs. It was an odd time of year for a gray whale to visit these parts. Typically, they roam the coast between November and May. But I guessed that this fellow was a loner—not unlike me on that morning—one of the old-school males who’d had enough of those ten-thousand-mile annual migrations. He rolled gently just outside the surf, feeding perhaps, or just enjoying a solitary moment in time, as I was. It was one of those instances when time stands still and everything in life is just the way it’s supposed to be. “Welcome to California,” I thought.

    I visited Gold Bluffs Beach again in 2005 with my mom on her California journey to live with me after my father died. A few more giant trees had fallen, and a herd of elk grazed among colorful wildflowers. Otherwise, it was exactly as I remembered it. It was a special place to share with my mom. After all, she was the person who introduced me to the beach when I was just a few weeks old. As you can probably tell, the beach holds great meaning for me. I hope it does for you too.

    In this chapter, we examine that strip of land along the rim of the world ocean, the beach. Because most of us have formed our deepest impressions of the ocean here, the beach makes a natural starting point for exploring the geology and chemistry of the ocean—subjects in our chapters ahead.


    This page titled 5: The Beach is shared under a CC BY 4.0 license and was authored, remixed, and/or curated by W. Sean Chamberlin, Nicki Shaw, and Martha Rich (Blue Planet Publishing) via source content that was edited to the style and standards of the LibreTexts platform.