Dolphins On New Year's Eve

A Story about my last surf of 2024 (sort of)

I was standing on the lookout at the parking lot when I saw them. At first they were in the middle of the beach in Linda Mar, slowly moving north away from the surfers and the side of the beach where people stood and sat and stared aimlessly at the receding edge of the water, there to view the last sunset of the year.

No one, as far as I could tell, was really looking at them. The three surfers they passed barely seemed to notice and I had an urge to somehow tell them that just beyond the wake of some passing body of water was another body. As I watched the dolphins appear, in and out through the waves, someone stood beside me, holding a camera with a telephoto lens. I mentioned the dolphins. Kindly she told me she’d already seen them, there was a baby with two parents. At least, one was smaller than the other two, she said. I told her happy new year and left for my car.

It was sunny but it did little to cut the cold air. I wasn’t sure if surfing was worth it, but I’d driven all the way here, so figured I might as well try. I was content to get in the water and be quiet with all the smashing of the waves. But mostly I was happy already to see the dolphins, to see something I rarely do in these waters, so close to shore and people who pass through, maybe easily forgetting like I do that I live in a coastal place.

Getting in the ocean, it was no surprise at how chaotic the water was. The waves were breaking in every direction and with little sense. Everywhere people surrounded me. New faces appeared beside me with upturned boards and little yelps. So many people, most of them uncertain of what they were doing there and many more just happy to be in the water, floundering like I was. Every once and a while a loon popped up from under the rocking waters. I kept worrying that it wouldn’t notice a board about to fall, or a person on a wave, but each time it dove, soon enough it would return to the surface.

All of this was a lot to witness, much more to navigate. It felt like rushing through time, through a year of moments all at once. I hoped that I didn’t get in anyone’s way and hoped they wouldn’t get in mine. But they did, just as I did, and the wave would stop, neither of us catching a decent enough ride and we’d paddle back out, each I’m sure thinking about the incident, neither of us sharing a word. Some people would give each other stares while I listened to others make fun of those same people for being so foolish. And I would just sit there, within all of this, amazed and also overwhelmed that so much was happening around me, that I was a part of all this mess, when from shore the ocean looked so small and relaxing.

Slowly, I caught little pockets, small waves that could barely be called waves. It was frustrating, but this was what was there, crappy little things that I enjoyed for however long I could. Weaving in and out of people dotted everywhere was not the easiest, but it was what was going on at this beginner beach break. Eventually I started catching better and better waves—not good, but better—that seemed to appear out of nowhere as I floated in the water.

Nearing the end of my time in the waves, staring out offshore, there was a longer lull in the waves. Smaller ones passed and I watched little caps of shaking water make crests in the ocean. As I waited for the sets to arrive I saw one move in the opposite direction of the others, then another. It wasn’t water, but the arching backs of the dolphins I had seen earlier. I was in awe that they were there, and that I could actually see them, only thirty or so yards out from all of us. I pointed, looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. But it appeared not, save for a couple of people I heard behind me exclaiming to themselves about the dolphins. I turned around and we talked about them for a second before a wave crashed and interrupted us. After the set of waves came and went and I sat back on top of my board again, I looked out to the dolphins, still there. The two that were larger were floating at the top of the water as three other, smaller dolphins, swam around them like chaotic little children surrounding their tired parents who just wanted to have a quiet time at the beach. A small wave passed beside me and I spotted one of the baby dolphins, its tail pointing straight at the sky waving back and forth as if it were doing some little dance, if you could call it that. I was amazed at how small it was, maybe only half the size of its parents. Just as soon as I saw that little tail in the air, they dove below the water, gone again.