Joan Ain't Never Gonna Act Her Age !

We had a wet start for a belated celebration of Joan's birthday with Alex, Sara and Joan baring all, a neoprened Paul Winter and Domino manning up the land-crew on his rusty bike in a non-assuming pair of yellow lycra racing shorts.

A fly-by of 10 cormorants battling the wind cleared the clouds and we hobbled down to a rough sea under blue skies.

Crashing rollers made getting in quite tricky. Joan kept disappearing beside me and then bouncing up through the foam laughing like a schoolgirl.

While I was plucking up courage to get my shoulders under, Paul Winter's torpedo whizzed past me and up the shingle at about 90mph. He claimed it was a porpoise.

We all managed a few strokes between body surfing and tumbling. I was tied to a dead man floating, idly wondering what was going to happen next when a herd of white horses came galloping towards me. They ripped off both my swimming costumes and spun me like a sock in a washing machine.

Brilliant!

We stayed in for around 20 minutes. Back on dry land we enjoyed generous helping of carrot cake and Joan's famous mushroom flapjacks, followed by an impressive 13 cormorant black arrow fly by. (Editors note: just to clarify, those present did not eat the cormorants).


Joan's birthday limerick

There once was a swimmer named Joan,
Along Saltdean shore she would roam,
She'd meet friends on the beach,
Flashing boobs and bum cheeks,
Together they would frolick in the foam

(The Water Weasel).

Hey, let's have a race!

After a week off due to child-care commitments, Hildi was very apprehensive at the news that the sea temp was probably now in single figures. Luckily she had not brought her wetsuit, so there was nothing for it but to wail and shriek and eventually get into the water.

By the time she had pronounced it impossible, and run along the beach for a warm up, Ollie had already tombstoned in and he, Pete and Paul were well on their way to their first length of the groins, and Sara was in the water. Joining in, we all swam to Pete and then headed off for a shared length. To keep warm, Hildi suggested a race, and Ollie an impromptu time trial. Start at the Westerly groin, hands touching, and swim to the East, to touch. Ollie won, Hildi second with a 2:22 (I think?). Back for a more leisurely length then some dead man's floating (or was that before, the cold is starting to addle the memory?). Sarah out first, the boys moaning that it wasn't as warm as it has been (I did my best - was obviously dehydrated) and then turning to swim breast-stroke and goggle-less into a beautiful sunrise. Hildi last in, last out.

Race against time to get dressed before the shakes. Ollie showing off a snazzy pair of pants, Hildi extolling the virtues of the sockless solution (Ugg boots) and deciding that yes, putting on tights was going to be completely out of the question (cue comfy joggers under the work dress). Coats and hats now de rigour for most, although Ollie still showing off his Lanza tan under shorts.

In honour of Joan's birthday (and in her absence), we shared the rather pathetic cake rations (3 left over mince pies) that Ollie had brought and Hildi ate her instant porridge. A bit of bike repatriation/redistribution (Pete reverting to natural 'Pete the Bike' type for the winter, clearly), some discussion about Joan's birthday swim to come on Friday and wishing Hildi luck for her Headteacher assessment on that day too.

Sea calm and tide high. Company quietly mad and appreciative of all the morning had to offer.

Hildi

PS please post time trial times if you have them.

from Ollie:

thanks for the funny blog Hildi.....times for the race are below.
Ollie: 02:07
Hildi: 02:22
Paul: 02:47
Sara: 03:??
Pete: 03:41

What a shame I missed it (Undertow)

I wasn't there but I took an account from Sara. 

"You missed a lovely swim.  The sea was perfect, just how you like it.  Really rough!. And I baked scones with orange and home made honey.  Just me, Joan and Paul there to savour them!. What a shame you missed it."

It left me thinking, as she said, what a shame I missed it :-(

Just for the record, the tide was going out and there were some quite tasty looking waves. Sara and myself headed out into them and just mingled. A pronounced undertow made the session a little challenging, but thankfully we managed to get back to dry land without a problem. A strong southerly wind guaranteed that there would be no respite when changing on the beach.

We trotted off home wondering just where Ollie had got to today.

Time In: 7:15
Time Out: 7:37

Swimmers: Paul, Sara and Joan

Cooling up and warming down

A nice warmish kind of morning. Flat sea and partly sunny skies. Ollie leads the charge by having us run up and down the sand, groyne to groyne in order to warm up. In we go, bounding across those unhelpful waves that rise up to greet our bodies. It is at this moment that my mind wanders to that time a couple of weeks back when I swam in Hampton Lido, an outside swimming pool that is heated to 28C. Lovely. I am wondering if Ollie could have a word with the council and get it sorted to have our beach installed with the same facility? Just a thought. We all preteneded it was fine, but each of us winced as the water rose. Except Joan that is, who complained that she preferred the snow. At least that is what I think she said, couldn't hear much with those ear plugs in. So, swimming groyne to groyne, which was easy enough as the current was very gentle. There then followed some synchronised swimming and starfish impersonations. Good to see that there are no wetsuits yet, this must be a record, who will be the first to break? Pete is looking a little twitchy, Sara is thinking about it, Ollie remembers it wasn't this cold last year, Paul wonders why it isn't this cold at the end of the Pier and Joan is just made of granite. The session ended with further running up and down the sand on the beach. This was a "warm-down", although I felt this had mostly been accomplished whilst in the sea. Just saying.

Stay tuned, next week I write the end of term report for all attendent swimmers !

Swimmers: Ollie, Joan, Paul, Sara and Pete
Sea Temp: 11C
Air Temp: 7C

Shaky hands man

Hang on a minute.  What happened to the weather?  Suddenly Saltdean’s sea was seriously sobering.  Cold was generous.  Blood clotting was a better description.  We soldiered on with a pattern I’m beginning to notice develop down on the beach before heading in.  Each swimmer glancing round just before another item of clothing comes off.  The logic behind this can only be what I know myself to be thinking at the same time.  “I’m not taking off my jumper until all you lot do”.  And so on and so on with each layer until finally It seems we suddenly all take the last item off at the same time and dash into the water J

Well, off we did go with our usual Friday widths of the groynes.  We managed 4 with some stops on the way to chat with Joan, and we all had a go at floating star shapes.  Very therapeutic!

Out of the sea we are slowly getting worse at getting dressed shivering.  You would imagine we would be improving our technique, but it doesn’t appear so.  Even fully showered, clothed and with tea in hand the shakes take over.  Scoulding tea dousing the fleshy hands as it ripples and splashes out of the cup thrown out by our uncontrollable shakiness.  Well, it makes us giggle at the time.  Guess its one of those where you have to be there J.

Have a good wkd everyone!

Alex, sara, paul, hildi, joan, Ollie

13 deg. 21 minute swim.

I’ve lost my mojo

Pete, hildi, joan, ollie, sara, paul, alex Domino as land crew.  water temp 13 deg.

Changing in the shelter of the café wall, hildi mentioned that she had lost her mojo for the swim.  The wind had picked up, and the sky grey, it looked cold and wet.  Well I suppose it would look wet being the sea. I decided to inject some spontaneity.  “We are going to swim from a different beach this morning” I exclaimed.  Met by gasps of mistrust the gang reluctantly followed.  Under the watchful eye of Domino and Joan, we marched West to the last beach in Saltdean, ne which we normally refer to as “first beach” as it is the first beach you can get out if you have a failed attempt to Rottingdean.  Over he sleeper wall and down on to the shingle.  Suddenly I began regretting my decision.  The waves were more ‘crashy’ here.  We looked East, our beach seemed a long way away.  In reality only about 200m but the sea was fierce.  It was going to be an effort just to get out, let alone turn into the south easterly and plough home. I hid my regret and led from the front.   3 meters into the water it suddenly took a deep step, not quite the mid-Atlantic trench but you get the idea.  I lifted my feet off, ducking under waves as I went.  The cold rushed over me but in a nice way.  Then suddenly I felt rocks below me.  Fairly close to the surface I tried to warn the incoming swimmers but there really was no way round these fella’s.  We are all fairly good at crabbing across nightmare low tides so I left it to their own confidence. Apart from Sara getting , how would you described it?.....”close’ with a rock, we all made it out unscathed and 30 meters out we regrouped and steadied ourselves for the straight swim home.  Off we did trot as fast as we could caper, past the first groyne of big boulders, and before we knew it the solid concrete groyne was approaching.  I was keeping tabs on everyone as it was a rough sea, but we made steady progress.  At ne point Pete did head straight out to sea but soon corrected.  We made it back to the middle of our beach where we saw Domino on the beach in his hi-vis bike jersey sparking memories of the 8 km where while he watched us swim the swim I watched him walk the walk as the only noticeable colour against the cliffs.  Back to our swim….we were gong to head on to the silver railing about two beaches further on, but it was getting ccold and current was more noticeable on our beach.  We decided to traverse the beach once more and get out by our favorite groyne where Domino was standing.  Clocked 18 mins.  I managed to sprain my wrist on the way out, being bowled over by a dumping wave, but at time of writing it appears to be easing up.

Jolly good swim, some funny looks at us walking to the start line in cossies only, but then the people here are used to our mad ways by now.

Don't mess with the skipper's lovely daughters - or else !!

I had entertained the idea of a lay-in this morning, but Ollie put paid to that by sending a text asking to relay his apologies for not being able to attend. Drat! That means I have no choice but to get up and head down. I could hear wind whistling around outside, it was going to be a rough one. And I wasn't disappointed. Upon arriving on the beach there were three other hardy souls ready to wage battle on the fiercest sea I had seen for awhile. Sara, Joan and David were limbering up but I had already decided that I would only spectate. The wind was uncharacteristically coming in from the south, fueling waves a quick succession of large powerful waves, some of which were taller than myself. Joan provided a detailed meteorological analysis of the weather conditions (translation: windy, cold and dangerous), Sara described the nature of the waves we were watching - skipper's daughters (translation: not to messed with). And David advised that if Ollie were here, he would make us go into the sea come hell or ... er ... high water. Anyway, I suggested we didn't try to get past the waves, Sara and Joan agreed and David eventually saw the logic. So we all just played around by the water's edge, rushing down to the waves, then running back up the slope before they crashed and snatched us back into the swell.

Those skipper's daughters certainly did look appealing to David and I. An entire harem full of them in actual fact. Just wanted to throw ourselves into their midst but knowing full well there would be consequences we wouldn't like very much. We spent maybe 15 minutes at this, but really there was not much else to do so called it a day a little earlier than usual. Sometimes you just have to know when the odds are against you.

Time In: 7:17
Time Out: 7:40
Swimmers: David, Sara, Joan and Paul

Nowt’ so good as a shower adaptor

A slight change of tactics today, a stiff South Easterly wind swept across the beach offering us shelter at the other end of the beach, so a walk across the length of the beach we did, in our dribs and drabs.  Scouring the litter on the beach we could see a lot has been washed up.  Doing our little bit we cleared up what was in reach and vowed to organize a litter picking day on Dec 3^rd.  Most interesting bit of litter?  A large crate from Portsmouth fish market! J

So the wind swept, and the waves crashed and the clothes came off under the shelter of the East Groyne.  Our general chat of comparing neoprene kit for the extremities turned a high point when Pete was about to unveil his hood – but not sure what happened to it.  Moments later I was in the sea and Pete didn’t have a suit on so I was confused – it was early, forgive me.   We had to wade through the breakers, bashing us as a warning not to come in unless you wanted to play hard.  But we all took no notice of the warning and headed in.  I love going in when its rough like that.  Picking your moment, diving under a wave, jumping another.  Just a moment of madness between yourself and the sea.  You can’t hear anyone else, or see anyone else, you just have to pick your own way through and meet everyone 25m out, great stuff.  First to join me out there was Paul, followed closely by Alex. We noticed the girls a little way back so head off for our first width.  Upon returning to the middle of the beach the rest of the gang were out, including Pete (which is when I noticed the no-suit).   From a distance we could see Stefan heading across the beach, but at this stage we all needed to get moving and watch the conditions.  Turning round we all completed several widths of the groynes enjoying the rolling waves and occasional dumping with white water.

After 20 mins it was time to turn in so we made our way back and let the current sweep us across the beach exiting (with perfect timing and finesse I have to say, towards the western side of the beach, hobbling back over the stones back to the towels.  Joan caught a pic of us leaving the water attached below.  Back to the towels we tried Joan’s amazing shower attachment to her hot water stash, giving us a perfect warm shower on the beach – fancy that, and we all shivered our way to fully clothed again before the working day commenced.  Thoroughly good fun!  Discussion took us on to the subject of the promise of SSF merchandise -  so watch this space!

In: 07:13

Out 07:35

Swimmers:  Joan, Ollie, Alex, Pete, Paul, Hildi, Sara, Steffan.