Two weeks ago, nobody in Carlsbad had said the words "Kelvin wave" out loud. This week I've heard it at the coffee shop, at a gas station, and from a customer who asked if it was a new band.
Really, the ocean is about to get a little taller because of El Niño, a hidden wave, and the beach might be a bit closer than you remember.
Either way, I'll still be fixing phones. Kelvin wave, regular wave, Kevin from accounting. Phones break. That's the business model.
Why a phone guy cares about higher water
Because a taller ocean means the beach acts different. The sand you used to set your towel on might be wet sooner. The rocks near the jetty by the lagoon get splashed more. And here's the thing I see every single time the surf gets interesting: more people walk down to look at it, with a phone in a back pocket or a hand.
Most phone-meets-ocean stories aren't dramatic. Nobody gets dragged out by a wave. The phone just slips out when you crouch to take a photo, or a rinse of whitewater comes up farther than you planned. One second it's fine. The next it's face-down in a puddle with sand in the speaker.
Cheap insurance for beach-watching season
A zip bag works. Seriously. The little kind from the kitchen drawer. You can still use the touchscreen through it. A wrist strap or a floating pouch is better if you're actually going near the water, and costs less than lunch.
Keep your phone in a pocket with a zipper, not a loose back pocket. Crouching for the perfect shot is the classic moment it falls out.
If it does go in: pull it out, power it off, wipe it, and don't charge it. Skip the rice. I wrote about this a while back with Tamarack Beach as the example.
My official position on the Kelvin wave
Come on over. Take your photos. Enjoy the weird news cycle. If your phone loses a fight with the ocean, I'm here, and I'll even pretend I saw it coming.