It was a full moon last Thursday, and the wind dipped for long enough that conditions looked good for an evening swim.
It’s been an unusually blustery autumn, and while I’m getting used to swimming in the chop on Sunday mornings in the harbour, it does mean I tend to swim less often during the week. I look out the window at the trees waving about, imagine the surf turning on a grey shore, and think, Yeah, Nah, as Kiwis tend to say (which means no).
It’s now April and the weather hasn’t been cold, but the temperature is dropping and for my full moon swim I found myself packing everything but the kitchen sink. In my swim bucket I placed a hooded towel, swim robe, neoprene gloves and socks, woollen hat, thermos of tea, and my new pet bed warmer which a swim friend recommended and I know I’m going to get a lot of use out of this winter. It’s basically gel inside hard plastic, heated in the microwave, and it stays warm for hours. Still – I wasn’t swimming in Antarctica! Why was I suddenly so afraid of the cold?
Perhaps packing in a slightly OCD manner was my way of trying to control the world.
Sometimes I realise I’m in a state of hyper-vigilance, like Marge in an old episode of The Simpsons when she is tensely crouched on an invisible couch and explains to her puzzled family: “Can’t talk. Must maintain state of cat-like readiness.”
(Marge ends up going to a lovely retreat called Rancho Relaxo, so maybe I just need a holiday.)
One thing that I was pleased to pack for my full moon swim was my tow float with a torch inside, an idea I’d picked up from another swim group called the Lunatics (whom I haven’t met, but I love the name). As the pink sky faded and the world slowly darkened, my inflated yellow tow float glowed gently like a tea-light as it bobbed along behind me on the inky surface of the sea. We didn’t swim far, only to the buoy about 80m offshore and back again. Clouds covered the moonrise but it didn’t really matter – the pastel-pink sunset, my luminous tow float, the sea and good company were all I needed. And hugging that pet bed warmer afterwards felt really nice!
*
Yesterday morning was warm, still and sunny after a few days of blustery winds, sporadic showers and thunderstorms. I went to the beach, pulled my purple hooded towel over my head, stepped out of my pink jandals, smiled at the dog walkers strolling along the sand, stepped into the cerulean water with bare feet, winced as I waded further in, and at waist deep I submerged and resurfaced. Noticed my breaths becoming longer, slower. The aliveness of my body. I kept my eyes closed for a bit as I swam breaststroke, feeling my tingling fingers moving through the water, noticing the sea as it sloshed gently against my shoulders, and the flickering orange beneath my eyelids from the sunlight and shimmering sea.
I left my swim bucket, goggles, swim cap and neoprene at home.
I was alone.
I felt a lightness.
*
Last week I did my first-ever autumn wharf jump, just in my togs. It’s pretty thrilling when the cold hits you all at once. Even though I’ve done about 10 wharf jumps this year I still get nervous each time as I walk to the end of the wharf and step to the edge, peering at the water below. It feels like walking the plank, without the eye patches and circling sharks.
For each jump we count down: “Three… two… one…” then leap into the air, suspended for a moment, then gravity hits and we plunge.
*
Other recent swim lessons:
Sometimes it is nice to just bob around with no destination or agenda.
Swimming at a different time of the day can result in a whole new experience.
Choppy seas are harder to swim in, so it’s okay to not go very far.
There are often lots of swims happening (so different to 2021 when I was getting started and struggled to find people to swim with!) but I don’t need to attend all or even most of them.
No matter how many or few I attend, I do need to swim.
Some dogs can swim quite far. Last Sunday I was 1km offshore and I felt something pawing at my leg, turned around and it was a black lab!* I’m amazed I didn’t panic, although I did feel a bit alarmed when it got tangled in my tow float strap and a small scuffle ensued. For a fleeting moment, as I scrambled to untwist the strap and we both flailed about, I thought if this is the way I meet my end, drowned in the middle of the harbour by a swimming dog getting tangled in my tow float, well that would be pretty absurd! But it was only a moment and then we both continued on. (Also, I could’ve just unbuckled my tow float from my waist but that didn’t even occur to me, though hopefully it would have if I was being pulled underwater!)
*I looked it up and many dogs can swim for 10-30 minutes. The world record was set by two dogs named Maui and Kai who swam about 20km over 6 hours in Hawai’i in the mid 1990s. There’s also a story of a dog named Bobbie travelling 4,000km in 1924 to return to its owners in Oregon – but that was on foot/paws.
You are doing so well! With such a varied 'waterlife'. I'm living vicariously through you ate the moment.
I'm staggered you are still able to swim without, at the very least, a 0.5 wetsuit top. I started wearing mine the week before Easter. Got icecream headaches though.
Onwards through the water!!!