West Bay 2.45 12th February

MG

I'm awoken early by something I can't identify. Then I realise - sunshine! After interminable days and days of drizzle and mist, it's a thrill to see the sun breaking through watery clouds and, by lunch time, shining out of an almost clear blue sky. SW is on changeover day, but we arrange to slot in a quick swim before he leaves for his Town House; the chance is too good to miss as I'm not overawed by February's swimming so far (what SW counts, but I'm dubious about – last weeks hilarity filled submerging, but the Northern Outpost has fallen silent…). I motor down with the wearisome Mascot in tow. Another huge bonus of winter swimming for us is that we are able to bypass the sweaty masses that clog up OUR beach in July and August; today gives us a foretaste of it with a crowded car park and a thronging beach. I'm already in a bad mood, made worse by a gale whistling through me as I get out of the car, blowing the mascot's fur back to front. SW arrives, and we make our way to the beach. The sea looks bad. Rolling waves are washing in, grey and stormy, and even with the sun shining down which normally makes the worst seas look appetising, it's not alluring.

We make our way to the winter bathing spot where it looks calmer and gaze glumly down. I'm just thinking it does actually look possible if we choose our moment, when SW lets out a murmur of disquiet. He's got six hours on a train ahead of him and isn't relishing the prospect of being wet and cold and sandy and salty. As he says it, an enormous breaker roars up, swashes over the pier and engulfs us both. We are drenched to the knees, and retire to the sand bank to empty out our shoes and discuss better days ahead. The spring time Pilgrimages. South Dorset to the right. Dartmoor and rivers to the left. And the New Forest… somewhere in between.

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Parting at the cars with a promise to meet the week after next when we are both back (I don't suggest it at the time, but I'm suggesting it now – Ringstead bay? It's always calmer there?) the mascot and I stop on the way home to test out a theory various quarters have been bandying around. A brisk walk up a steep hill in a strong wind is as good as a sea swim. The hill cures my bad mood, I'll give it that, but it's no substitute. Looking down at the wrinkled sea, I want to BE IN IT!