Saturday September 26th, 2009 the girlfriend and I drove up to Ventura, CA in what would be a fruitless attempt to attend the California Beer Festival. We waited in line for an hour or so, but they sent us packing when they hit capacity some 30-40 people before us… Having stood at the gates of my Valhalla only to be turned away, my paradise lost, my palate un-satiated, I did the next best thing. I took the girl to a dive bar and had a shot and a beer. Then more beer, then some cigarettes, then some Mexican food with friends who did get into beer heaven. Then, more beer.
Eventually night fell and we ended up at the beach. From the spot we had staked out a ways back from the water it was apparent that the occasional wave appeared illuminated. I’m dumb so I assumed this was light from the shore somehow reflected by the waves. However my very sweet companion (“she’s the angel of compassion, she’s rubbing half the world against her thigh”) is not dumb. She informed me in elated, joyful fashion that what we were bearing witness to was Dinoflagellates, a small little organism that when jostled releases a burst of Bioluminescent light.
Right about now we both shift into dork mode and run down to the water to investigate further. What followed was one of the most beautiful displays of natural wonder I’ve ever seen. As waves build up and crash and the Dinoflagellates smash about the entire wave suddenly glows an amazing blue color (almost like a blue LED). When you walk on the sand by the water your footsteps emit pulses of light. Like playing Dance Dance Revolution, but without loosing your dignity. A quick scrape of a foot across the sand causes a streak of blue to trace the path. Loose sand kicked up, briefly sparkles with illuminated specks. By the rock outcropping the concentration of Dinoflagellates was even greater, and the effect was amplified. Jumping as high as you can and landing with both feet sent a glow easily three or four feet in diameter exploding from the point of impact.
It really felt like something that shouldn’t happen. Like someone broke open a bunch of glow sticks into the ocean. Like something we should’ve had to pay to see. Instead we just happened upon it, a magical glowing ocean, something ancient…
If you get the chance, go play in some Dinoflagelletes.
(NOTE: Apparently a concentration of Dinoflagelleates is a telltale sign that water quality isn’t the greatest in that area. I guess pollution draws them out or something. But hell, who knew pollution could be so beautiful?)
