Ice Bath

The day dawned perfectly.  Little wind, calm sea and a big tide.  The tub was full at last.
Regular numbers were resumed this morning with Hildi and Ollie making welcome returns, fitting in the all important session between children and demanding jobs.

Pete was kidding himself that he needed to swim a long way this morning, perhaps even to Rotters, that's the excuse he made for donning the wetsuit.  It's difficult to remember just how different the suit makes things, you feel divorced from your regular environment, the cold only making its presence felt slowly as boots and gloves fill up, then the trickling in through the zip.....

That all goes to hell of course as soon as the face goes in.  After so many weeks of trying to get in, one forgets the full reality of that first five minutes of burning before the delightful numbness sets in.
There were manly squeals apleny from Ollie as usual whilst the girls just got on with it.  There was a bit of swimming today, around two widths from Ollie & Pete followed by an impromptu race to the groyne between Emma, Hildi, Pete & Ollie, adjudicated by Joan.  Or was it just Pete who was racing?  With leaky goggles, Pete had abandoned all hopes of a long one this morning.  On the way back to the hut, Zoggs Brand Ambassador Hildi had already hooked Pete on the idea of  a pair of Predators.

"No really, who would want to hoover a whole house anyway?

Back at the hut, Hildi put on her Dyson hat and tried to persuade Ollie to switch hoovers, extolling the virtues of a battery powered device that would guarantee to run out half way through, thereby saving time on housework.  The hut is a lovely sanctuary.  Quite why the men get to change inside on thick carpet whilst the womenfolk make do with breezy concrete is one of those strange traditions whose origins no-one can remember.

We all drank to a season packed with convivial swims.

Swimmers:  Ollie, Joan, Hildi, Emma, Pete
Time in: 6 minutes or so
Sea tamp 8 degrees
Air temp  4 with wind chill
Sea: A big icy cuddle

Rocky times ahead

This is getting silly.  The tide is low and now reveals the full extent of the damage.  The rocks which at low tide, we previously just poked through the sand, causing us to stub our toes, now form a veritable mountain range to be clambered over.  The same trio of Emma, Joan & Pete assembled as usual, full of hope for a swim.  The rocky vista greeting them putting paid to any such fancy.

Pete, ever the optimist, felt that the rocks couldn't extend too far our, so, armed with sturdy footwear and a grappling hook, set out to investigate.  At this low tide, the water is even below the level of the groyne foundations and as a result, alarming bits of metallic hardware protruded in a threatening manner.

Pete picked his way and to his delight, 50m out found sand!  He turned to the others and gave a thumbs up.  Immediately afterwards, he disappeared from view with a full length soaking - a big hole was lurking.
Pete picked his way a further 50m out and still stumbled so eventually, getting cold, he returned a picture of dejection.  One thing is clear there'll be no swimming at low tide for the foreseeable.

The fickle sea 26-02-14

The sea looked OK from a distance, it really wasn't too rough - until you actually got to the beach.  The new beach profile meant that the waves would advance towards you in leisurely fashion and then at the last minute become monstrous.

Emma, Joan & Pete entertained the notion of a nice swim but the fickle sea meant that it was really hard to even approach.  Pete studied the waves and took his chance.  He got in and managed to get away from the surf.  It was a bit scary and after a few minutes, he thought better of it.  Trying re-entry was fraught with difficulty and he didn't time it well, getting tumbled and losing his goggles to the sea in the process.  They now join the sundry odd gloves, weed and bits of exotic turtle among the detritus which line the beach every low tide.

We continue to learn about the new beach and hope that things settle down soon.