An Ocean Love Affair

Where Does My Love of the Ocean Come From?
By Kevin Stokes

I’ve found myself asking this question a lot lately. I don’t know why, maybe it’s because after a lifetime of wanting to live by the ocean, my dream finally came true when I moved to Montara with my wife Wendy.

I was born and raised in the East part of London, England, then moved further East at the age of seven to the developing suburbs. At best my family never lived closer than 30 miles from the North Sea (a cold grey icy body of water). However, my Father owned a speed boat from which he water skied. I have fond memories of watching him being towed behind the boat. Sometimes I got to steer, and that was a real treat. This took place on an estuary of the River Thames, not quite the open ocean but salt water never the less, and of course tidal. I remember being fascinated by the tide, the way it magically rose and fell, revealing wonderful treasures of shells and crabs. All the things that were otherwise hidden when the water was high.

It always fascinated me, how could all this water rise and fall by so much? What controlled it? I remember sitting as a 6 and 7 year old intently watching as the water crept in across the mud flats, relentless and unstoppable. I think my respect of the power of the sea probably stems from those early memories.

As a family we also used to spend vacations on one of the English Channel Islands called Jersey. This Island is very small only a few miles wide and long. Again the ocean was a huge part of my life at this time. Many memories of building sand castles and exploring the sand dunes of the coast of which Jersey is famous for. The Island was actually under German occupation during WWII, the only British soil the Nazis ever set foot on. I remember the water being blue here, very different to the grey water I was used to!

Then through my teenage years every weekend we would go to the beach on the Southern English coast, even though we would often spend hours in traffic jams in the short English summer months to do so. I’ve always swam since I can remember, and swimming in the ocean was always my favorite. Being in the ocean just feels good, you’re almost weightless, you are at the mercy of the water, she lifts and cradles you in her arms. A fellow surfer once told me as we sat on our boards waiting for a set to come in at Montara. “The ocean is a healing force, it calms me, I think it must have something to do with the memories of being in the womb. The gentle rise and fall of the swell”. I think he is right, we spend the first 9 months of our life suspended in fluid in the womb, I’m sure the comfort of that feeling never really leaves us.

And while we are on the subject of surfing… surfing has bought me ever closer to the ocean. As I said, having spent most of my life in England, surfing was not at the top of the list of my pass-times. It took a trip to Australia and Bali to set my passion for surfing in motion. More of that later.

Getting under the surface of the ocean is another wondrous experience. My Father was a B.S.A.C. (British Sub Aqua Club) class one diver. He scuba-dived as a hobby around the English coast and I have vivid memories of snorkeling and watching him descent into the murky depths of the freezing water until the stream of bubbles from his regulator were all I could see of him. I ever really got to scuba-dive much, a perforated eardrum put paid to that. But I have been lucky enough to have snorkeled The Great Barrier Reef, The Red Sea, Bali, Thailand, Hawaii and Malaysia to name a few exotic places. Coral reefs are a natural wonder. The colors of the life forms that make up and inhabit a living reef are impossibly bright and intense, I have spent hours floating face down with only the sound of my own breathing and the water to accompany me as I literally fly over the coral kingdom suspended in clear blue water, and that’s exactly what it feels like, flying. One stroke of my arms and a kick from my fins sends me propelling over the rainbow colored canyons and ledges of the coral landscape, it’s inhabitants of fish and invertebrates scurrying to avoid my presence. My head spun the first time I witnessed this marvel and it is something I will never tire of till the day I die.

The next best thing to snorkeling a reef is tide-pooling these little aquatic micro universes cradled in rock or reef at low tide are fascinating. Natural aquariums for our own private viewing pleasure! When the ocean lowers her veil at low tide and allows us to take a peek at her treasures, it’s always a treat. There is a spot on Montara Beach, and if you are a local you may know what spot I’m talking about, where at a really low tide you can see scores of  pink and blue Starfish clinging to the rock amongst the muscle shells, it’s such a neat sight.

So let me finish with surfing. To me what you use to ride a wave matters not. Long-board, short-board, body-board, knee-board or just your own body, I don’t care, how ever you do it, that makes you a surfer in my book. To sit in the water and watch the swell build as it moves toward you, getting bigger and forming into a wave is a never twice repeated experience, no two waves are the same. So by definition, how could you ever tire of surfing? We can’t tame the ocean, but we can ride her like a magnificent beast, never really in control, because she can throw us at any minute and trample us. That’s the thrill for me, the unpredictable nature of the sea, I always feel a buzz when paddling out for a session, you never know what is going to happen.

My love for the ocean will follow me to the grave.