Sea Swimming Blog #26

Day 65 Sea Swimming.

#26 of the blog.

Every swim in the sea is different… and today was certainly that!

Celebrating the removal of a certain man-troll from the main office of the US of A, the Bathing Beau and Bluebells met up at St Aubin for the regular 9am start dressed in the red, white and blue of the American flag.

There’s not enough space in this blog to get political (and to be honest whenever I hear or see the news nowadays I turn it off) so for the want of not totally alienating my audience (hello?! is anybody out there?!) we’ll keep it to the sea and to the swimming.

On arrival, the sea looked pretty mean - but hypnotically beautiful - green and grey with white horses galloping and crashing against one another in a pulsating, rhythmic manner… I wasn’t actually sure whether some would consider it a little too rough for a dip but fair play to the guys and girls, full of good spirit they followed the flag-bearing Jenny into battle and headed into the churning waves.

Knowing that there’d be some good photo opportunities, I waited behind and took some snaps of them in the elements before deciding I had just about got what I was after, put the camera away and then headed in for a swim myself.

Last night I watched a video on YouTube of someone’s experience of the English Channel crossing and it was pretty hairy - between the choppy seas, the strength of the current, the jellyfish stings and the cold - I wasn’t regretting my decision to sign up but, it was certainly enlightening, and if anything it gave me more of a laser sharp focus on the task at hand.

I also watched a 30 minute Q&A with Lewis Pugh (please google him) the British-South African endurance swimmer who has completed a long distance swim in every ocean in the world - all to raise awareness of the plight of our oceans and to highlight the subsequent effects that losing ice and wildlife will have on humanity and the world.

I left a comment on the Facebook post thanking him for the advice and then was delighted to see that he’d bothered to read and reply - ok, it was only an emoji(!) but still - to see ‘Lewis Pugh has replied to your comment’ on Facebook I have to admit I was pretty stoked.

With the contents of both videos in mind, I entered the water today (wearing my bright yellow inflatable) and set off for Wilson (the closest buoy in the area… about 25-30 metres away).

When the sea is that choppy visibility in the water is pretty much zero whilst the waves and swell create a washing-machine type effect… funnily enough this is exactly what had been described in the videos last night so, having made it to Willy, and making sure I was nice and calm, I proceeded to head out towards Gracie in the distance and through the rollers.

Panicking in these conditions could easily lead to someone getting themselves into trouble - I could imagine that hyperventilation and gasping for air would result in lots of water being swallowed, so, as the old saying goes, I found it best to keep calm and carry on.

Due to the timing of breaths (I generally breathe every 3rd stroke) and waves, it’s inevitable that I’d swallow a little sea water - to think otherwise is a bit like going for a barefoot walk on the beach and expecting not to get sand in between your toes.

But with a constant rhythm in my stroke and breathing, it wasn’t too long before the sight of Gracie appeared before me a few metres away… I swam close and said out loud “hello Gracie” which seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do, gave her a quick tap, then headed back to shore… this time with the waves and swell assisting me as they rose and fell behind me.

Job done it was then time to dry off and treat ourselves to some delicious peanut butter & jam goodies which Jenny and her husband had kindly prepared.

“I must not fear.

Fear is the mind killer.

Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.

I will face my fear.

I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.

Only I will remain”

- Frank Herbert