Chigasaki (茅ヶ崎)

Chigasaki (茅ヶ崎) is the beach town I've been looking for in Japan.  It is said that Japanese surfing was born here.  And it does feel something like Huntington Beach, aka Surf City.  It's laid-back; it's quiet.  Everyone is tan, no one wears shoes.  And it seems everyone here surfs.  All the bicycles are fitted with surf racks and there is a steady stream of surfers either headed to the beach or just leaving it, hair and trunks still wet.

The beach is not beautiful, but this has more to do with man's meddling than nature's flaws.  The sand is charcoal gray and silky.  And oh, the ocean.  The glorious Pacific Ocean!  It looks, smells and sounds like my Pacific Ocean in California.  The joy.  Like reconnecting with an old friend.  太平洋さん、ひさしぶり です ね。

The water is cool, but not cold.  The waves have decent shape, crumbly, with the odd curl.  West of the jetty seems to have the best break, and that's where everyone is: long boards, short boards, guys and girls, young, old, even a lone gaijin.  It's crowded.  I count more than 50 surfers, suntanned bodies bobbing up and down over the swells.  Waiting, waiting.

I used to surf, though I was never very good.  A perpetual beginner.  So I wouldn't say I was a "surfer".  I was too much in love with the city to be a real surfer.  But I've always admired surfers.  It's very different from other sports.  It is a solo pursuit.  Just you and the ocean.  A daily quest to ride the perfect wave.  That's all.

There is something about the power of the ocean that draws me in, how we are forced to yield to it.  Our will is no match for the ocean.  The strongest man is knocked on his ass, pulled under.  It is a great equalizer.  From a very young age I was taught to have a healthy respect for the ocean.  I still do.  Love and respect.