Monday 4th October, various times

12.30pm Cogden, Dorset

After a weekend of rain and wind, a perfect autumn day – warm, windless and clear. A perfect swimming day.  With Percy in tow, met MG and the mascot, at Cogden and preceeded the swim with a walk, along the coast path behind the beach and up, picking odd blackberries on the way – the well-worn dog-walkers route. Yesterday a raging sea of great green foamy waves. Today just the gentlest ripple breaking on the shoreline, the water blue and shimmering like a beaded dress. We plunged in, just a momentary gasp of cold, and then swam and swam, out and along.  The water seemed actually a little warmer than the last swim of over a week ago, an odd tingling in my wrists but otherwise painless.  The mascot almost took to the water herself to escape Percy’s cavortings, and then they sat, guarding our clothes, their backs to each other, looking disdainfully in opposite directions, but keeping us in view.  Having swum out we looked back at the expanse of Chesil beach, empty save for a lone fisherman and a walker with her dogs; Lyme and the white cliffs towards Start Point so sharply delineated as to be almost magnified.  Hard to leave the water and only did so, after about twenty minutes, for fear of incipient hypothermia. To be greeted by Percy, leaping and twisting like a dervish and throwing himself wetly on top of us.  In the sun our bones warmed rapidly.  Often, as I swim, I find myself wondering whether this one might be the all time greatest swim. But by any standards today’s was GLORIOUS.  At home, a re-fuelling lunch of fried bantam eggs on toast.

KH

4.30pm, Brighton.

Sometimes one of us is away from West Dorset but the need to swim never diminishes. After being stuck all day in a room with 40 people and very little air I would have probably swum whatever the conditions. Luckily, by late afternoon it was warm and still outside. Ideal. Only problem was I had no kit. Being in a city that was not going to be an issue. Half an hour later I was on the beach with a towel borrowed from the hotel and a new pair of rather un-subtle bright red swimming shorts (‘sorry love, we don’t sell many at this time of year, limited range of colours and sizes you see’).

I spied a lone swimmer towards Kemp Town which made me feel more comfortable, its always nice to have company, however distant it may be. The sea was flat calm, lapping against the pebbles. Due to recent storms the water wasn’t clear but rather than the expected and uninspiring turbid brown it was a beautiful milky gray-blue.  The beach shelved steeply allowing a shallow dive from knee deep. The water was cool, clean feeling, refreshing after such a stuffy day. The views were a real surprise. Looking west, the ruined West Pier was framed by the nearby struts of the Palace Pier and looking inland, the stucco seafront was gleaming in the sun. 

The current took me eastwards but it was gentle enough to swim against and return to where I started. I hauled myself back onto the beach and dried off in the warm autumn sun. As I was leaving another swimmer was entering the water. I think I might just be able to get used to this town swimming lark.

SW

The Wash: 4^th October 2010: High Tide 16:30: Snettisham 16:10

I reach the shingle beach as the sky turns a threatening shade of black behind me. I’ve never swum off this beach before, been to drunken parties here yes but swimming no. I walk up and down for half an hour debating the best spot to go in. The usual suspects appear dog walkers and today a man fishing on the incoming tide. Finally I panic that it’s about to rain so plunge in, the shingle bank is quite steep here so happily I avoid the usual wading. The water is slightly murky as the shingle beach only extends a short distance before turning into muddy flats. Perfect for wildlife less so for swimmers who like to be able see their legs beneath them. No sun today so the sky and sea merge and the sea is eerily calm. I watch little wading birds pick amongst the debris on the shore line, they pay no attention to me.  Walk back up the beach and chat to a guy in a kayak who pulls up having been out watching seals eating the fish the fisherman had been trying to catch. We talk about good beaches to swim from, Bird watchers and their telescopic lenses both agreeing that we feel quite sorry for the birds sometimes. He goes back in for a dip however still wearing his wet suit I note. Suddenly the sun makes an appearance on the western horizon. I look out towards the other the side of the Wash happy not to have lost anything precious like King Cnute but pleased to have snatched this moment from the usual post work slump of coffee and TV.     

JJ                                  .

5.00pm West Bay

I'm feeling decidedly peculiar by the time the second swim comes around. But 'flu like symptoms – absolutely NOT brought about by swimming, before anyone jumps to that conclusion, they are ABSOLUTELY UNRELATED – are no excuse on this most amazing of days; after our idyllic, dream like swim this morning, I'm not missing out on a second chance. I go down to West Bay at about 5, mascot in tow. When I clamber up the bank, the sea looks completely different and there's a sharp breeze blown up, just in the 3 hours since KH and I were here. It's incredible how quickly it can turn. But the sky is still cloudless and the sun smiling down, so the sea looks sharp and blue and inviting. It's all in the sun – on a grey day, this would look anything but inviting. But there are actually two people IN (!!!) and I know how warm it is, so I don't question it, but ditch the mascot and scamper down. It really is quite choppy; I have to choose my moment  between the waves (which are coming in very sharply) but once in, it's lovely. Murky and choppy, but lovely. As I'm swimming along the waves actually block out the sun a few times, which is less impressive than it sounds, as the sun is pretty low in the sky, but underwater the changing light as the waves sweep overhead – it feels like a forest on a windy day.

Every time I glance back to check on the Mascot I get a wave over my head, most embarrassingly when someone I know walks past and I raise my hand to wave and am instantly submerged. Not quite The Swimmer as Hero. There's ferocious barking coming from the shore as the Mascot overzealously protects my towel, and what with worrying about that, and being submerged every two minutes, it's not exactly restful. But totally worth it, always worth it.

I drive home feeling reborn – two swims in one day is pretty pleasing. And when I fall into bed, after Spooks, I sleep for 14 hours. That's what swimming does to me… either that, or the 'flu….

MG