www.montereycountynow.com DECEMBER 25-31, 2025 MONTEREY COUNTY WEEKLY 13 As a storm rolled in on Tuesday, Dec. 23, I spent part of the afternoon at Lovers Point in Pacific Grove, looking at the expanse of gray ocean and dramatic clouds beyond. The sea was flat, and a pair of otters swam by. It was beautiful, and strangely peaceful from this vantage point. I say strangely because even as I took in the scene, a handful of divers were underwater, searching for a swimmer who never returned to shore two days prior. Erica Fox co-founded the ocean swimming group the Kelp Krawlers 20 years ago. Fox, a successful triathlete who excelled at not just swimming but also bicycling and running, was an effervescent presence, always smiling and quick to laugh. She appreciated and loved the ocean deeply, through an intimacy obtained only with many hours and many miles of immersion. And she shared it with many of us, including me. On a regular Sunday swim at Lovers Point on Sunday, Dec. 21, a group of 16 swimmers left the beach at 11:30am. As we returned to the beach, a gaggle of firefighters were waiting for us; they’d received a 911 call reporting a shark sighting just off the point, and wanted to make sure everyone out recreating was accounted for. We quickly realized that everyone was not, and that Fox was missing. I have spent many hours in the days since then trying to make sense of something I always knew could happen, but have also spent hours actively willing out of my mind while swimming. Like the others I was with in the water on Dec. 21—a calm day in the ocean, and exceedingly clear—I was shocked only after returning to shore to learn that a fellow swimmer was gone. There had been no hullabaloo, no chaos to react to. Of course I know that in the vast ocean, cycles of life and death are always playing out—I’ll never know how many times while swimming acts of predation were happening right around while all I heard was the sound of the water. I am acutely reminded that in this vast food web, we humans are ultimately just biological organisms too. It’s a startling reminder of that to enter the water with a friend and then to exit the water without them. Chris Villanueva had been swimming with Fox since just about the very beginning of Kelp Krawlers. He is not only a regular fixture of ocean swims multiple times per week, but also a prone paddler who takes his board out, often alone, often miles from shore. “There’s nothing else out there besides you and the water,” he says. “To some degree you feel vulnerable, but you get a sense of individualness when you are by yourself out there.” Fellow Kelp Krawler Steve Bruemmer survived a shark bite in 2022, and as I sat gazing out at the horizon on Tuesday, he joined me to reflect. His story is quite different—it became a story of recovery and resilience, and the luck of survival, in which a millimeter’s difference could have changed everything. Bruemmer has also spent some time thinking about the fundamentally fleeting nature of life, and what it means to live knowing that we cannot take tomorrow for granted, like the complex food web happening just offshore all the time. Some of it is lending the same kindness that helped him through a lengthy recovery: “Anything you say is valuable, if it’s from the heart,” he says. “Say something, do something, send a card, make a call—it will be appreciated by the grieving person or the recovering person.” Fox lived a life she designed very much in keeping with her own values and vision for how to be, a template I think all of us can emulate. She chose a career path in healthy and organic food, most recently working at Elroy’s. She pushed her limits as an athlete, and encouraged others to push theirs. She helped many of us learn to love the ocean and its wildness. A community is grieving for her and also for what it will mean for the Kelp Krawlers, as members of the group reassess whether to swim, where to swim and when to swim. “I hung up my wetsuit on Sunday and thought, I’m done for now,” says Jeffrey Weekley. “I am grieving for Erica, and for our experience as Kelp Krawlers. I’ll deeply miss the privilege of sharing the ocean with her and my fellow swimmers, but I can’t continue.” Sara Rubin is the Weekly’s editor. Reach her at sara@montereycountynow.com. Below the Surface After a beloved swim group founder is killed, her community regroups. By Sara Rubin MERRY SQUIDMAS…It’s the season when Santa and Squid both take stock of who’s been naughty or nice—everyone gets something delivered down the chimney. For Hans Uslar, Monterey’s retiring city manager, Squid gives a book of local coupons so he can spend money in the city and help bridge the massive budget gap as a private citizen. To Carmel residents near Forest Hill Park, a hotline for every time an illegal pickleball game pops up. To the Pacific Grove City Council, Squid offers cannabis gummies once a retail store opens up so they can mellow out when the usual suspects get feisty. For members of Salinas City Council (except Andrew Sandoval) Squid gifts a social media training so they can increase their presence online— and respond to Sandoval’s jabs right there. For Sandoval, Squid gives the book Empathy in Politics and Leadership by Claire Yorke so he can improve his relationships with others, virtually and IRL. For Marina City Council, Squid gives aversion therapy. Unsure of what that is? Think of the scene in A Clockwork Orange where the main character is forced to watch ultra-violent scenes. In this case, however, council members will be forced to watch their own long-lasting meetings. Hopefully, that will make them more aware of people’s attention spans and end meetings in a timely manner. For County of Monterey code enforcement officials, Squid gives a catalog featuring the newest McLaren automobiles. They can peruse its pages after hand-delivering a citation in the middle of a Car Week party (at a Carmel Valley home owned by an OpenAI exec) for $505,359 for an unpermitted event. The lawsuit the property owners filed is still pending in Monterey County Superior Court, but County officials can always hope there’s a settlement that includes a new high-end fleet of government vehicles. For Joby Aviation, Squid offers an encrypted hard drive, so company secrets can’t be so easily stolen. (Squid will be watching in 2026 to see what happens with allegations that an ex-employee brought trade secrets to a new job at competitor Archer.) For Seaside Police Chief Nick Borges, Squid gives a subscription to A&E Crime Central, so he can continue to solve cold cases. For the Monterey Jazz Festival, Squid gives a new groove to take the festival to a more swingin’ time in 2026, after a few bumps in the road throughout 2025 left some fans feeling flat. For the business owners of Castroville, lifetime memberships to the spa to soothe their nerves, because much more road work is coming in 2026. For energy company Vistra, Squid would give them a lump of coal—that’s an old-fashioned way to make power—but Santa is already on it, if members of the group Never Again Moss Landing have made themselves heard. THE LOCAL SPIN SQUID FRY THE MISSION OF MONTEREY COUNTY WEEKLY IS TO INSPIRE INDEPENDENT THINKING AND CONSCIOUS ACTION, ETC. She helped many of us learn to love the ocean. SEND SQUID A TIP: squid@montereycountynow.com
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