Splutterings of success

The blog has had a rest whilst Pete has been off sick.  Today saw the return of both.
A decent, middling tide tempted Emma to broach the idea of a Rotters run.  However, lack of take up stalled once again, any SSF forays west.

In the event, just Emma & Pete arrived for a lateish swim.  The sea had a little chop but not too bad.  Both were in wetsuits.  Emma to get some neoprene conditioning before the Arun swim and Pete because he had absolutely no idea how the dip would turn out.

The beach temp was 14 degrees and incredibly this was matched by the water, although to Pete, it felt like midwinter: icecream head, freezing hands and toes, the works, with even a bit of hyperventilating thrown in.
How easily coldwater conditioning is lost.

The buoys were there but a long way out and Both felt like hugging the shore today so widths were commenced.  Amazingly after only one width, Pete's discomfort evporated and widths two and three with Emma in charge and shouting encouragement were dispatched without incident.  Discretion proving the best course however and after three, Pete felt a bit woozy so decided to walk back with Emma completing another solo.

Back on beach, tea and chat were had as the two swapped news.  Pete was back, fish box and all and he felt happy but knackered.  Tide looks good for next week.  SSF will get to Rotters this year - eventually.

Swimmers: Emma, Pete
Beach temp: 14 degrees
Sea temp: 14 degrees
Sea: Welcome back with a little nip

Prettymuch Perfect

The new arrangement underfoot has meant that recently, SSF swims have had to mesh with the tide and for the past few weeks, this has meant either all or nothing.  Consequently, when Pete scanned the tables, consulted Yahoo Weather and Magic Seaweed for today - it looked prettymuch perfect for an attempt at Rottingdean.

Emma was feeling a little under trained for the event. Ollie was silent on the matter so it left just Hildi & Pete to give it a go.  In the event, after both having just completed the Brighton Marathon, fear of cramp and uncertainty about water temp prevailed and the pair decided  to do an out & back instead.  Whilst Joan, Emma & Ollie did the normal SSF thing in cossies, wetsuited the remaining pair struck out west.

After the usual initial shock of cold water on the face, things settled down, Pete worrying about marathon tiredness, clung to the shore whilst Hildi went for croissants.  You'd think that not using legs whilst swimming would mean that the rest of the body could get on with the business at hand but both felt the effects of the weekend in their bodies and after a little over 10 mins, decided to turn back.  The rising sun on fogged goggles made navigating the return leg somewhat problematic with Pete almost swimming into the rock groyne but both made it back without incident, the tide level being perfect for Pete to exercise his first groyne dive of the year.

Back on land with  hot water showers outside and tea inside, all felt at ease with the world and resolutions made to get to Rotters on the next high tide.

Swimmers: Joan, Emma, Ollie, Hildi, Pete
Swim time: Joan, Emma, Ollie - 10 mins  Hildi, Pete (wetsuited) 21 mins
Air temp: 7 degrees
Sea temp: 10 degrees (double figures!)
Sea:  Welcome back

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.

Tales from the topographic ocean

All Change!

The weather promised the first dip for ages and although the tide was low, Joan, Emma, Ollie, Hildi & Pete arrived full of hope only to discover a scene of utter devastation. This was no longer our beach, strange dead creatures from 1000 fathoms littered the shore, some had arranged themselves into fantastic and macabre still life on the groyne.  What was initially taken for spume at the water's edge revealed itself to be fresh chalky rock outcrops.  Mud and seaweed masked the entrance to the water and entrance was made with some trepidation.  Joan & Ollie quickly reported that the winter beach was too difficult an access route so all decamped to the "Big Beach".  Here, we could at least get in a few metres and get the shoulders under in a semblance of swimming.  This lasted until Pete trod on something which moved.  Not only did it move but he felt it sliding up his right leg.  Girlish yelping was permitted but Ollie manfully bent down and retrieved... a section of clinker from what was  probably a 1930s Antiguan fishing vessel (Ollie's interpretation).  It bore rusty pointy fangs so Ollie threw it back to attack another unwary swimmer.

Ollie also spotted an albino saltwater anaconda half washed up.  The boys grabbed the head and hauled it up the beach, Ollie guessed it to weigh 100kilos.  Both thought about taking it home in order to grace the garden but even coiled, it would fit in neither car.  We left it where it lay, its tail twitching in the surf. The final oddity was revealed as Pete returned to the hut only to find that the sea had swallowed up another pair of his underpants...

The beach has changed and felt a little odd, a line on the groyne indicates that we have lost around a metre of shingle and all of the sand.  It'll be a while before we can once more call the beach "home"

Dippers: Joan, Ollie, Emma, Hildi, Pete
Air and sea temp: 7 degrees
Sea: Mysterious and no longer ours

Like a stoat up a drainpipe

The "Stoat" surveys his playground

A topsy turvy sea, half way in with a vicious little uplift over the shelving shingle greeted Joan, Emma, Ollie & Pete.

It was cold, windy and decidedly uninviting but true to SSF form, the four faced the channel and with a united wimper decided to bask in the surf instead of a "proper" swim. Unnoticed however, Ollie spotted a gap in the surf and like the proverbial stoat, was in and halfway to a width before the others had noticed the yellow SSF cap ploughing its lonely furrow.

Pete made a game attempt to follow but was pushed back by the mighty surf.  Ollie did well to complete a width and a half and once in, basked in the glory of the only SSF that week to make the cut.  The warm water shower was barely needed this morning and the discussion was mainly how early the first Rotters swim could be made this year - surely, the sea is even at 8 degrees, unseasonably warm - maybe mid-March?

Attendees: Ollie, Joan, Emma, Pete
Swimmers: Ollie
Air temp: 8 degrees
Sea temp 8 degrees
Sea: Suitable for stoats