Keller Cove Swimmers

The tunnel was blocked. Damn! What the hell was going on? Ian and I sat in the car, at the stop sign, next to the closed Plunge, staring at the police car blocking the road ahead, its whirring and ominous emergency lights spinning and flashing red, blue, and yellow.

            “Well, this doesn’t look good,” I mutter.

            “Yeah, it doesn’t. Let’s go see what’s going on.” Ian pulls away from the intersection and heads up the empty road, toward the police van. “Maybe the cop can give us some information.”

            “Is there another way to the beach?” I whine. Here I am, all ready to dive into the Keller Cove’s choppy waters, and the only way to the beach, that I know of, is through this sweet little tunnel behind the plunge. If it’s blocked, then can we walk through the tunnel to the beach? Or is there a way around?

            Ian pulls up alongside the cop, rolls down his window, “Hi, can you tell us what’s going on?”

            The cop gives us a steely stare, menacing in its intensity, but then speaks: “There was an accident. Guy caught between two vehicles.”

            Shit, I think. That sounds horrendous.

            “Is there another way around?” Ian asks.

            The cop stares ahead, not looking at us anymore, then speaks again, “You can take Canal and then Seacliff. But it’s a long way around.” The cop turns toward us, daring Ian to ask another question.

            “Okay, thanks, I can see you’re busy….” Ian rolls his window up, pulls out his phone as he drives to the side of the road to look up the directions. A helicopter swoops overhead, hovering for a moment, then lands in the middle of the green lawn of the park right in front of us.

            Damn! This does look bad. But hell, if someone was caught between two cars, did he survive? Was he a swimmer? A Sunday beachgoer? How did this happen?

            All these questions circled my brain, but the biggest question was, how the hell do we get to the beach so I can swim?

            Now this might seem cold, but I knew there was nothing we could do to help this poor guy, and if Ian could get around the little hill, circumventing the tunnel, maybe I could still swim. After all, this was the most important thing in the world, right? Though a bigger part of me was scared and uneasy. I felt a simmering wave of nausea thinking about this accident. Here we were on a beautiful Sunday, Father's Day no less, and this guy was probably just going to have his day in the sea when wham. He's in this hellish accident.  

            “Excuse me, Sir…..?????” A man in a blue van had pulled up even with Ian’s car on the other side of the street. “Please, can you tell me sir how to get around?”

            “That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Ian holds up his phone, pointing to its magic maps that the questioning man couldn’t possibly see.

            “Please, Sir, can you tell me?”

            Ian shakes his head, “I don’t know, like I said, we’re trying to find out.” He rolls up his window, shaking his head.

            I grin. Ian knows the priority is to get me to the beach before I have a Nervous Breakdown over the Swim Police Action Tunnel Block Situation!

            “There is a way around. The cop is right. It’s a ways but we can do it,” he says, circling around the park as the helicopter’s choppers whirr loudly. Damn, it was so intense. “What’s up with the helicopter?” Ian asks. “Kaiser is just 3 minutes away.  Why do they need a helicopter?”

            I nod. He’s right. It is strange. Maybe Kaiser doesn’t have the facilities to deal with a smashed man? Maybe they were filled up with COVID patients and couldn’t take him in? Who knows.

            I hide my head behind my hands as we pass the helicopter where they’re loading someone on a stretcher. I don’t need to see this. I need to get out of here and into the water.

            Ian drives around the brown hill, through warehouses, overgrown brush, and then piles of new condos on the hillside. “I recognize some of this road,” I observe. Then point to the condos, “But those weren’t here before.”

            “Nope, you’re right. It was just the derelict warehouses.”

            I nod, now having to go to the bathroom because of the delay in getting to the beach. And, I was sure, even if the bathrooms were open, because of Covid, I wasn’t confident about their cleanliness and usability. I’d just have to go in the sea.

            Yeah, right. How cold was that water? 61 degrees? Colder than Alameda, I knew. But as we continued to drive around, I started to wonder if we’d even be able to get down to the beach. What if the beach was blocked off too? What if we’d come all this way and I still wasn’t going to be able to swim?

            I tried to stay positive (not my strong suit) as we finally turned the corner and saw the beach. It was dark Prussian blue with tiny white caps. Glorious. Yet, as we came near the entrance to the beach, more cop cars, yellow tape, and an ominously crunched car pulled over to the side of the road.

            The beach didn’t look accessible.

Keller Cove Beach, photo by Ian Lambton

            Ian parked away from the action. I climbed out of the car and gazed out to sea. Yes, there were a couple of swimmers out there. I could tell from their bright caps and fluorescent floaties. Okay, so, it was possible. But how to get down there?

            “I think we can go down this way,” Ian started down a path that pointed in the opposite direction from the beach.

            “Really?” I was dubious. “How will we get over there?” I pointed to the chain link fence and the railroad tracks that blocked our access.

            “I think there’s a way. Follow me.”

            Okay, I thought. He seems to know what he’s doing. But he always seems like he knows what he’s doing. I like this about him. But again, maybe he’s just acting. To keep me from crying.

            We tromp down the path, but he’s right, it winds around and heads back toward the beach. There’s an opening in the chain link fence that we can march through and then over the railroad tracks and onto the bluff overlooking the sweet little Keller Cove.

            YES! We can get there.

            My excitement mounts as we head down the path to the beach, the eucalyptus trees blowing in the wind, a couple of families now evident on the beach, social distancing won’t be a problem. Not a lot of people. Well maybe the Tunnel Block helped with keeping the crowds at bay?

            A trio of swimmers are emerging from the water, grinning and laughing. They stop under a eucalyptus tree and begin to towel off.

            “How’s the water?” I holler to them.

Cj waving photo by Ian Lambton

            “It’s lovely!” one of the women beams at me. “But a bit choppy.”

            I hold up my fins. “I came prepared.” I smile back at her, my excitement mounting.

            “Have a good swim,” she calls out, holding up her own fins to wave goodbye.

            And I do. Have a good swim. The water is cold, but feels exhilarating. Which isn’t surprising given how hard it was to get to it. And, yes, it’s choppy, but I can handle this. Again, it’s just so marvelous to be in the water. Backstroking toward the Golden Gate Bridge in the background, the seagulls cawing overhead. The water enveloping me in its salty embrace.

            I don’t last long. Only about 15 minutes, but as the Lovely I proclaimed when I met her at Alameda earlier in the week, “It doesn’t take long” to feel like ourselves again.

Serious Swimmers photo by Ian Lambton

After trudging out of the water, cold but happy, I sit on the beach, trying to get warm. I watch as 3 burly guys prepare to dive in. They’re serious. You can tell. They take their time getting in, laughing and joking. Their speedos so small of a protection against the frigid sea. I watch as they dive in, taking off toward the Golden Gate. And, yeah, they are moving. They might really be swimming there!

            I only hope the poor injured man who didn’t get to the beach, didn’t get to swim, didn’t get to enjoy this beautiful day, will be okay.          I can’t help but think of him as I try to cover myself up with my Hawaii Beach towel. Lying here, trying to warm up, I shiver. How lucky I was to have this swim, this day, this life.

Postscript

I've since joined a group of swimmers who swim regularly at Keller Cove. From their very active email chain, I was able to piece together that the accident victim was a swimmer, though not a part of this group. His name is Dave and he was helicoptered to John Muir medical center. He lost some parts of his legs and feet but will get prosthetics and will not be paralyzed. Thankfully, he will be okay but will have many months of rehab to heal. These swimmers seem so wonderfully kind! Here's a photo they put together for this injured swimmer. Healing waves to Dave!

Keller Cove Swimmers: photo by Kim Anno, banner by Kim Anno, Joye Wiley, and Amelia