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
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