The tide comes in, the crowds disappear, and just a few remain. Sitting on the front porch watching surfers is my kind of spectator sport.
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The tide comes in, the crowds disappear, and just a few remain. Sitting on the front porch watching surfers is my kind of spectator sport.
The sand collapses in. I shoveled more wet sand in a day than I have for razor clams in my life. Soak a few minutes. Jump in the surf to cool off (and sand off). All of the holes are erased by the tide.
It might be a dry hole or it might be too hot. Lots of trial and error and shifting around as people come and go.
Here I am digging a hole in the sand (everybody brings a shovel).
Here is the same view at low tide a few hours later.
Hot water from the thermal activity above percolates down on to the beach below the high tide line. Here, with the tide high, there is no activity.
Walk until you are tired.
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The tide comes in, the crowds disappear, and just a few remain. Sitting on the front porch watching surfers is my kind of spectator sport.

The tide comes in, the crowds disappear, and just a few remain. Sitting on the front porch watching surfers is my kind of spectator sport.
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Hot Water Beach
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We rented a cabin for a couple of days at Hot Water Beach.
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Marco Flamingo
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