a story

I wrote this conversation up last week when it was still sunny. Dorset has returned to its normal storms so a few 'dry' days until the weather settles again;

When I saw my neighbour today she must have noticed I was shivering and asked what I had been getting upto. She admitted that she was nervous of swimming herself, ever since her two friends had their 'trouble'. I was waiting with baited breath for tales of sharks, sea monsters, even russian submarines... but the truth, as it often is, was far, far worse... This married couple in their thirties swam most of the year and enjoyed it very much, they were swimming experts. One cool spring day they had a lovely swim at Eype. They clambered out of the water and went to dry themselves off on their towels. Suddenly the wife turned to the husband and said in a startled voice 'I am all wet!'. 'Off course you are darling' came the reply, 'you have just been swimming'. 'where are we?' 'what are we doing?' She had suffered almost complete instant amnesia while in the water. All she could remember was that she knew the person she was with. Checks at hospital confirmed a small stroke, probably brought on by SUDDEN IMMERSION IN COLD WATER. Over the following two weeks her memory gently returned although she never recalled the fateful swim....

Apparently it did not put her off swimming but she always got in slowly after that... I think there is a lesson in there for us!

SW

Monday 2nd April, 10am, West Bay

Dead still water, a slight mist blurring sky and the sea. Crystal clear and knife cold. Heaven as always.

SW

Sunday 01 April, 2012, 11am Hive

Fools rush in; we go for the slow and steady approach to avoid heart attacks and strokes.... Anyway, some would say that getting in the water at this temperature is an April fool enough on it's own.

SW and I plan to meet at Cogden but confusingly pass on the road going in different directions, as SW discovers the Cogden carpark to be overflowing (hello Easter tourists) and relocates to Burton. We traverse along the cliffs and slither down what was once a path and is now just a mud slide (see above) to the beach. Seen from above, the water is unbelievably clear and perfect. But also - unbelievably cold. We agonise our way in, and swim about gasping, a raw burn across my forearms and a gradual peel across my back. As usual by the third dip it is bearable and almost pleasant - there is definitely a feeling of plunge pool cleansing to this, especially as the water feels so clean. And coming out onto the warm sand and warm sun is a triumph; we are elated and jubilant, even more so when a nice Irish man hails us as "two of the bravest people in the country". At least, I think he says bravest.

MG