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.