Today two friends and I hiked in Tomales Bay State Park, ditching our car at the Jepson Trail Head on Pierce Point Road and descending to the graceful flat curve of Indian Beach. From there, where an interpretive trail rekindled my admiration for the Coast Miwok, we picked up the Johnston Trail to the crowded picnic area of Heart’s Desire, made a quick stop at the completely empty Pebble Beach, and finally arrived at Shell Beach. We had been looking forward to this outing for a year, and the idea was to hike from beach to beach on a hot summer’s day and cool ourselves by a jump in the water at each locale. But two things prevented us from fulfilling our plan: first, the weather was at its most disappointing – cold and foggy, and second - the jellyfish.
Each beach was dotted with large dying blobs of translucent ochre, and the otherwise clear water gave view to a smattering of submerged pods that looked gentle, but in fact, we later learned, can pack a distinctly unpleasant sting. These particular jellyfish, we think, are appropriately named sea nettles. By the time we made it to Shell Beach, we discovered a tide so high that our exit to the trail had been cut off, and it seemed our only option was to wade through a sea-jelly-laden pool to get to the other side. Other marooned beach-goers had opted for the sensible solution of waiting out the tide with a few bottles of wine, while their children actually splashed about in the water and told us we’d be safe as long as we didn’t touch the red tentacles. Hmm. We took a land route instead, backtracking a bit and scurrying up a muddy cliff, undoubtedly clutching on to poison oak in the effort to avoid a sting. I wonder how long the bloom will last and whether on the next visit, if the weather is warm, I will be brave enough to sidle up to a live jelly in the water of Tomales Bay.
