Sunset, supermoon, sunrise
And back to the pool for training.
August
It had been a while since my last sunset swim. For one thing, it was getting dark pretty early, from about 5pm through most of winter. The weather was also grim in August. Normally I quite enjoy cold, wet weather: it’s lovely snuggling indoors with the rain on the roof and the heat pump on, with some kind of warm pudding in a bowl. But we’d had fewer sunny days than usual and after a while I felt the grey, the gale southerlies, the landslip-causing endless rains, all seeping into my soul. When the rare sun did appear, I could feel my body stretching towards it like a plant.
But one evening in mid-August, there was a great combo: blue sky and low wind. It was also the rise of the last supermoon for 2022 (the next one will be in July ‘23). Moonrise was at 5:32pm so I timed my swim around that, feeling anticipation all day. After the sun had set, when the sky was a faint pink, I and a couple of other local swimmers stepped into the velvet sea.
I love the gentle light at dusk, how the world quietens, and how the sea turns a pastel cotton-candy shade.
We stayed in for a good 20 minutes. I tried measuring the water temp but my thermometer is a bit unreliable: it was somewhere between 8 and 10 degrees. The air temp was about 10 too, but it makes such a difference when there’s no wind.
Always in my trusty pink knitted hat!
Afterwards I felt fantastic. My skin was numb and pink but gloves and socks really help my extremities and I’m an expert now at getting out and dressed super-fast, with a warm drink ready in my thermos. We didn’t quite time the moonrise for when we were in the water (it took longer to appear over the hills) but I took some pics after we got out. I still haven’t figured out how to optimally operate my GoPro when it gets dark and, frankly, I may never do so, but here’s a pic:
One person in our group asked if supermoons have become more frequent than they used to be and I wasn’t sure, so did some research:
A supermoon (or moon perigee) is when the full moon’s orbit coincides with the earth’s orbit and gives the appearance it is larger than usual, especially as it rises above mountains or buildings etc. because of the perspective. We have 3-4 supermoons per year (out of 12-13 full moons). The fact that the moon is a bit closer to us at that time causes a very slight change in tides, but doesn’t increase the likelihood of natural disasters, as was once speculated. In May this year, the supermoon coincided with a total lunar eclipse (when the earth is directly between the sun and the moon), causing a ‘blood’ (red) moon, and that was quite a big deal so perhaps that’s why it feels like supermoons are getting more attention this year? Anyway, that was a bit of moon trivia for you.
September
On Wednesday nights I now swim at the local pool, which isn’t wild at all but the first time (two weeks ago) felt remarkable because it was my first pool visit in about a year and I experienced a bit of culture shock, or the pool equivalent: swimming in mild, chlorinated water, salt-free so easier to swim through, no currents or marine life, sounds bouncing off the walls, linear swimming (and paying to swim!).
(An RNZ interview recently featured Calum Maclean, a Scottish writer and wild swimmer, who described the tedium of swimming in an artificial pool as “black line fever”: that continuous swimming up and down above the painted line. Very true, but it’s definitely less tedious if you mix it up with outdoor swims! In fact, the painted line felt like a novelty because it had been so long.)
During that first pool swim I was proud of myself for a) leaving the house at 6:30pm and b) swimming pretty much non-stop for a full hour, which I hadn’t done in ages. It was a training group and the teacher is an older lady (as in, older than me, a grandparent). I’d describe her as kind and firm, sort of like my school teachers were in the ‘80s. I was struggling at the start of that first session and she suggested I breathe every second stroke, then I was fine and not out of breath at all.
On Sunday at 8am I attended her harbour swim training too. The previous night I’d talked myself into, then out of, going (early Sunday! I could stay in bed!) but when she texted at 7am to say conditions were good, I got ready and drove into town. Our central harbour has a small sandy beach and several buoys to swim around, and also a fountain. It’s the place the ‘serious’ swimmers go, who swim multiple kilometres out to the little lighthouse and back. But anyone can swim there.
At first it was cloudy, with the rising sun pushing through, and the water was like glass. I felt a bit nervous but everyone was lovely and welcoming. I’d brought a tow float but no wetsuit; most other people had wetsuits on but I find them so constricting, like an all-over corset. Maybe I just haven’t found ‘the one’ (that fits) yet.
My swim instructor stayed onshore and looked after our car keys. She was emphatic: “Go only as far as you feel comfortable.” The water felt slightly warmer in the harbour, maybe 12 or 13 degrees, so getting in was easy. Most people swam off. I’d decided to just swim around the first buoy but conditions were so good I wanted to go further. But how far? I was tense, not because of the sea but because I didn’t want to swim out, get too cold, and have trouble getting back. Luckily there was a very nice Welshman in the water who stayed with me and encouraged me to relax and take my time. We swam together, our arms quietly slicing through the flat sea. When I said I was ready to turn back, we turned back.
A rainbow appeared in an arc over the city. It was an amazing way to see Wellington, with the ocean all around me and with the skyscrapers illuminated by the early sun. We even did a few handstands in the water at the end – that was fun! Afterwards, a group of us sat together and had coffee. I felt amazing – and I did feel a bit colder than usual so was glad I’d brought my swim robe and hat.
The experience felt like the next step (lap?) in my swimming journey. There are a few other exciting things happening too, which I’ll share another time. Thanks for reading!