Couldn't quite make it down to the beach in the JPB park, as there were no trails down, but the views from above were like a something from a pirate's dream. The beach was tucked back in a cove, with the water churning and mixing as it surged in. The sand was pristine, and the waterfall came cascading down to crash onto the sands below. It's something you expect to see after emerging from a 20 mile hike through the jungle in Hawaii, not by stepping out of your car and walking 200 yards. Even after we'd made up our minds to leave, I couldn't quite take my eyes from the fall and the sand below.

From there we drove to a beach where we could walk along it on the sand. The prior one had no approach as the cliffs were too unstable. This one was called Pfeiffer beach, and it was useless in so many ways -- cold, windy, deadly for swimming -- but it made up for by channelling waves in like a funnel. One wave would come rolling in and the others behind it, too impatient to wait their turn, would come barging in too. One, two, three waves would all be curling over and surging in at the same time, some times stacking up, other times nulling each other out. What's more, in some of the barrier rocks there were large holes, and through these would come a fragment of wave, splashing up the sides of the hole and bearing a resemblence to nothing more than a water ride at Disneyland.