Torch? yes torch, it was still night! There was a distinct recalcitrance in shedding clothing this morning which although not really cold, held about it - a menace? The moment could not be forestalled and the three picked their way to the still invisible inkiness. Once in, cold chubby fingers grabbed at us and drew us in. The light was just now starting and we could just make out each others' figures. We really should give it ten minutes more but what's this? A sneaky width? Emma was already making her way to the eastern groyne in order to make the necessarily contact prior to starting a full width. Pete followed, doggy paddling, sculling, head up crawling anything to avoid ice cream on the brain - but it happened anyway. Water appears to turn to treacle at these temperatures and this morning it really wasn't our friend. Joan's figure disappeared in the dark and it became a bit scary.
In fact she had got out - Pete & Emma, now width-committed had to finish the business, Emma sprinting up the beach on numb feet, Pete picking carefully around the larger stones, strange how cold affects the physiology differently.
Joan is always right, she had complete faith that the dip would restore our spirits and it did so fully.
See, Joan the mackerel, always bright shining and lively!
Swimmers: Joan, Emma and Pete
Sea: black, cold, chubby
Widths: One apiece for those competing - watch out Hildi!
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