How do you get in?

With the rise in popularity of Cold Water Swimming, how do you get in?

Advertisements

The sea is a force amongst the Salty Seabirds that brings us together. We share a love of cold water swimming and as such our shared experiences of joy, respite and faffing is what notably makes us the same. But we all get in the sea differently.

We noticed this when we swam to the east of the Palace Pier to have a morning of celebration in the Beach Box Sauna and cold sea as we introduced some new Seabirds to our swimming pod.

Patrick McLennan, is the the co-director  of a new documentary called The Ponds, about Hampstead Heath Ponds. In a recent article written for the Guardian by Tim Lewis McLennan explains “Outdoor swimmers tend to divide into “divers” and “creepers”, with the latter group easing themselves into the water more gradually. There are also “tea-baggers”: people who jump in and get straight out.”

When the Salty Seabirds visited the Ladies Pond last year we were definitely divers as the jetty and steps only allowed for that form of entry. How we get in the sea on Brighton’s beaches, all depends on the conditions and state of the tide. If the tide is high you have no choice but to submerge yourself at speed as after three steps and you are out of your depth on our steep shingle. However, the length of time you faff,  get changed or observe your swim area can vary considerably. At low tide, particularly a spring tide, you maybe walking for what feels like miles across sand to get anywhere near swimming depth taking gradual acclimatisation to the extreme!

Outdoor Swimming Coach, Rowan Clarke has the funniest video parody on her Instagram account that charts the 10 ways people get in. When I watched it I associated each type of entering the water with  Salty Seabirds. The types are;

  1. Just Get On With Itthis is definitely me
  2. Faffthis is a favourite amongst the Salty Seabird flock – our super power is forgetfulness and changing bags are emptied and repacked quite a few times on the beach before we realise the swimming hat we are looking for is on our head
  3. Inch by Inchmany a fledgling Seabird starts off this way, but after a few dips and possibly an encounter with Brighton’s infamous shore dump, they soon join the rest of the formation and get in as quickly as they can.
  4. Swearyep lots of it. In fact the swearing normally starts with the faffing and just continues into the water. Swearing helps you to regulate your breathing – FACT
  5. Huff and PuffI love chatting to the Seabirds that huff and puff as they get in as they are completely unable to talk back and I get the opportunity to waffle on uninterrupted. 
  6. ScreamYep again and lots of it. It is a Seabirds primal call to nature
  7. Splash and SlapI am yet to spot a Seabird doing this but the more serious swimmers that migrate for the winter and return in the summer have been known to partake in this activity. On a serious note, it is a good way to acclimatise before a distance swim.
  8. Heads Up – So last year! Once we’d listened to Dr Mark Harper’s informative talk on the Health Benefits of Cold water Swimming hosted by iSWIM we have all been obsessed with stimulating our vagus nerve and stick our heads in as much as the ice cream brain will allow.
  9. Recklessly – definitely a ‘don’t do this at home kids’. Unfortunately as a tourist city by the sea the Seabirds often witness people making poor choices. We don’t and move to safe swim spots when it’s stormy or just wave bathe on the shingle shoreline known locally as “pilcharding”.
  10. Just Don’tthis applies to lots of our family members so we have created a new swimming family that ‘Just Do’

Whatever the time of year, outdoor water temperatures in the UK are cold. Even if you are wearing a wet-suit you will be susceptible to ‘Cold Water Shock’. Your breathing speeds up along with your heart rate and blood pressure – which in itself can lead to panic and gasping. The secret to over coming the cold water shock is to swim often and resist the urge to panic. The Outdoor Swimming Society has tips for cold water immersion written by the late great Lynne Roper of Wild Woman Swimming fame. She writes ‘ Much of the acclimatisation process is mental – knowing the moment of immersion will feel cold, and embracing it anyway.’ The RNLI ‘Float to Live’ campaign is aimed at people falling into the sea in British and Irish waters where the average temperature is 12-15 degrees. Low enough to cause cold water shock. The campaign promotes the lifesaving technique of fighting your instinct to swim until the cold water shock passes.

I have a unique style of entering the water. I am what Patrick McLennon would refer to as a ‘diver’ and Rowan Clarke a ‘just get on with it’.  But the first thing I do, after getting in quickly, is to roll onto my back and just float. It’s not a conscious considered decision based on my lifesaving training or an attempt to be in the moment with nature. It’s just something I do without thinking. What it does do is allow me to relax and my breathing has time to regulate without plunging my head through waves or respond to the physical activity of purposeful swim strokes. The urge to start swimming soon arrives as I realise I need to move to keep warm.

However you get in – do it safely and JUST KEEP SWIMMING…….and eat cake afterwards. Copious amounts of cake.

Scribe: Seabird Kath

Footnote: An Our Screen Viewing of The Ponds is scheduled in Brighton on Thursday 28th February at 20:30 but has SOLD OUT!

For the love of Swimming….

A Valentines Guest Blog by Seabird Didi

In her own words “here is my loved up offering post swim….warning….it’s gushy as I’m still high on endorphins……feeling the love!”

Managed almost 7 minutes in the sea today….although a good amount of that was me squawking and backing out and just splashing my face to try and acclimatise. Because this is the thing….I have always hated cold weather and cold water….but I know how amazing I feel when I have been in………and actually I have always loved the extremes of sauna and cold water……….but it’s also more than that…..there’s something in me that just feels the pull to swim outside and dive through that cold shock and I can’t put it into words but it feels as vital and important as breath. I can happily swim for ages in warm water…..dreamily and no effort…..I’ve always considered myself a strong swimmer, very much at home in the sea. But the WINTER cold sea; that’s a fairly new and challenging experience for me.

For for about 10 minutes before I go in I am getting anxious and then feeling stupid for feeling anxious about a self imposed activity that’s meant to be fun……..everyone else is smiling and excited whereas I am gritting my teeth and trying to squash down my fears. Butterfly nerves make me jittery and a little ungrounded. Then I am standing there with my hefty frame, in just my swimsuit, feeling ungorgeous, unglamorous and quite frankly ridiculous. I’m the biggest I have ever been and NOW is the time I take this up?

At this point some beach walkers usually clock us and stop to have a look. Sometimes they take photos. My private humiliation not quite complete….I then venture down to the sea’s edge and take quite a while dithering and flapping and shrieking…….watching my friends leap and dive in with confidence and joy.

My breath catches sharply, alarmingly and I feel like I have forgotten how to breathe out. FOMO wins every time though and VERY reluctantly and in a sort of disbelief I submerge myself….I practice my long out breath…..I steady my nerves…..I find my focus and then suddenly my arms and legs are paddling like crazy and I’m properly swimming…….in the winter sea with no wet-suit…..I feel like I’m crazy wild woman and I love it…..after 2 minutes of biting, painful sensations on my skin I can feel my physiology waking up from its domestic slumber and finally I feel THAT joy. I feel like a kid again.

My body remembers ancient and primal skills and starts activating clever responses to cold stress and physical challenge that I didn’t know it had. I feel euphoric and clever and strong and free and happy. I gurn like a loon to my swimming companions and blabber a lot at them about all sorts of nonsense. I marvel in the wild untamed beauty of the sea…….I coo at my clever swim socks, that delay that numbness just enough. I look back at the shore my perspective changed and my eyes feel soothed by the vast space and innocent beauty of it all. It feels like we are protected from the busyness, out of the spinning hamster wheel for a wonderful and precious little moment.

I feel so so so grateful to live here, to have this on our doorstep and even more grateful that I have a shared love of this with friends and now a growing community of Salty Seabirds, Sea Sploshers, Kemptown Kippers and of course the amazing iSWIM crew and most of all my lovely mate Laura without whom I would not have dived in at all.

Love (and friends) and the sea is all you need

💖💖💖Happy Valentines Day Salty ones 💖💖💖

The Rock – Swimming with my Spouse

My rock in stormy seas. Introducing Mr Seabird

The final part in the family swim stories trilogy.

Part I – Libby in the Lakes – swimming with my Daughter

Part II – Monarch of the Glen – swimming with a Laird

My husband and my depression, have been constants in my life since I was teenager. We met when I was 12 and he was 13 and we got together when I was 15 and he was 16. Right about the time when my teenage brain was experiencing it’s first incidence of poor mental health, and seeking out new risky experiences, resulting in lots of poor choices. He watched the poor choices from the wings, without partaking himself, often clearing up the debris.

Over the years, like any couple we’ve had our ups and downs, as my mental health has had it’s up and downs. Sometimes the two things are intertwined. My choices have improved with age and so has his support. He doesn’t always agree with my choices, decisions and ideas but his support is unwavering. When I let him get a word in edge-ways, he has been known to give bloomin’ good advice. He is the rock I cling to in stormy seas.

My choice to skin swim in the sea year round is also watched from the wings. He loves that I do it, but he neither has the time or inclination to join me. He enjoys being at the beach or in the sea but he prefers gentle beach breaks or small hidden coves and warmer sea temperatures. Our holiday choices are easy. It has to be by the sea and the car is filled with neoprene, SUPs and surf boards. He will get up early for solo surfs and be the first one to suggest a sunset swim before bed. Finding a beautiful secluded beach in Cornwall a couple of years ago and forgetting our swimsuits meant a skinny dip was inevitable. The teens are yet to forgive us.

Our holiday choices match but the type of swims we like can differ. I have been bought up on steep shingle shelves and long shore drift. Brighton beach is my favourite place to swim. It’s familiar, although ever changing. It’s my safe space although sometimes precarious. He only likes it local when it’s warmer and when it’s slack tide. He hates the, sometimes unstoppable, strong tidal current that can be like swimming on travelator going the wrong way. A couple of hard swims home when I’ve encouraged him to swim with me didn’t help lessen his hatred for fast moving water.

On special occasions I can convince him to swim with me on home territory. The featured image above show the pre-swim smiles of my 45th birthday. Early on a Sunday morning in July he accompanied me for a swim out to the buoys in front of the King Alfred. There is no post swim photo. There was no post swim chat. There was only post swim sulks, from both of us. The cross shore pull that had made reaching the buoy relatively easy was making the swim back tough. As I swam beside him giving advice on where to aim for to exit the sea safely and where we had left our bags I infuriated him more as I was able to talk and swim and wasn’t in the slightest bit concerned about getting back to dry land. We ended up having a row in the sea that resulted in me swimming off in the direction I had suggested and him the other. In hindsight I realise I had taken him out of his comfort zone, then emasculated him with my nonchalance in the water only to abandon him when he was feeling vulnerable. The salt in the wound being the walk over sharp shingles at the end of his ordeal. He is so confident in every other aspect of his life it didn’t enter my mind that this was something he was doing for me and not necessarily something he wanted to do.

It really is the pull of a current that he hates. In a warm non-tidal Mediterranean sea he would regularly take the children out to depths and distances that left me watching from a sunbed in horror. Fortunately, a couple of bad experiences haven’t put him off swimming with me…..just not in Brighton. This year’s birthday was spent swimming the Somerset Levels together. Pull of the water panic was replaced by pike panic. There was our trip to Scotland. The glens and waterfalls are hands down, the most beautiful place we have both ever had the pleasure of swimming. The peaty dark brown lochs provided a very different swimming experience as he confidently entered the water I splashed and stayed in the shallows put off by the murky water and what could lie beneath. He also joined my sister and I when we swam in Bude Tide Pool in April in armed only with his swim shorts. But he is at his happiest in a Cornish cove in the summer.

I call him a fair-weather swimmer but he is really not. He just doesn’t enjoy some of the same swims as me and there is nothing fair-weather about being married to me. All the while I wish to skin swim, year round I have the company of the Salty Seabirds. Absence makes the heart grow fonder after all!

Scribe: Seabird Kath

Footnote: I am reading and editing this in bed pre-publication and he is snoring to the point of punching his face in! It ain’t all hearts and roses.

Swimming for your Life – Lest we Forget

A story of my granddad. A Great Man.

100 years since the end of the Great War – Armistice Day. It was mean to be the war that ended all wars – but it didn’t.

My family knew the story of Dunkirk well before Kenneth Brannagh dramatised it for the silver screen. My Grandfather lived through it and told us tales of being on the beach. We are a close family. Cousins are more like siblings and we still regularly holiday, camp and celebrate together. We talk to each other almost daily from which ever corner of the earth we habit. Until granddad passed a couple of years ago, we would get together on his birthday where tales of his life, which included serving in WWII were told. This particular story lives on in everyone of his children, grand children and great grandchildren.

My grandfather was a professional soldier. He left his native Scotland and signed up in 1932 and had been serving for over 6 years before War was declared. Within three weeks he was in France as part of the British Expeditionary Force, 22nd Field regiment, Royal Artillery.

On the retreat to Dunkirk, he was part of a group of about 20 men who were ordered to stay behind in Belgium to hold the line on Newport Beach. They were ordered to remain there until they had used up all of their ammunition. They were left with two guns and a lorry. Once the ammunition was used they destroyed the  guns and my grandfather drove the lorry heading for Dunkirk. They didn’t get very far as the roads were destroyed or full of abandoned vehicles so they walked through the night until they reached the sand dunes.

When daylight broke on 31st May the magnitude of the beach retreat was revealed. There aren’t words to describe a beach full of soldiers, cold, tired and hungry, desperate to get home. He and ‘Young Berryman’ had become separated from their rest of the group and were alone. They could see that everyone was forming queues, so he and Berryman joined one. A Regimental Sergeant Major, inspecting the line,  asked them “who the bloody hell are you?”, Granddad replied with his regimental details and depending on who’s version of the story you listen too the RSM said “you’re not one of my men – Fall Out.” or “Bugger Off”. And they did – without question – ever the professional soldier.

He and Berryman remained on  the beach and like all the other soldiers they were constantly under enemy fire from the land and the air. They considered making their own way out to the boats but Berryman couldn’t swim and granddad would not leave the young lad that had signed up when war broke out. He finally persuaded Berryman to wade out into the sea up to their necks and waited, at night, in the dark. A small motor boat towing three rowing boats passed them full of soldiers. Granddad shouted to them, “Any chance mate?”. The answer was immediate “No!”. He shouted again “I’m alright but my friend can’t swim”. The answer was “Catch the last of the the rowboats and we will tow you out”. And that is how my granddad escaped Dunkirk Beach, towed through the water, hanging onto a boat with one arm and Berryman with the other.

Granddad spent the remainder of the WWII in the Far East and Africa. We have all been soothed to sleep by a lullaby in Swahili. Whoever the youngest grandchild was at the time got the spot on granddads lap. He went on to live a wonderful life until he was nearly 102 years old. He left a huge hole in our lives when he passed. It all could have been so different as he nearly lost his life on the beaches of Dunkirk because he could swim but was determined to look after a young frightened soldier that couldn’t. To this day none of us know the young soldier’s first name. To us he will always be ‘Young Berryman’.

Just before my granddad passed he was interviewed and asked his tip for staying young. He replied “Sheer will power and dogged determination. But I’ve always kept peace of mind – definitely peace of mind” All of that showed to be true on his days on the beaches waiting to go home.

Author: Seabirds Kath (with help from parents, siblings, aunts, cousins…)

Grandad

 

 

 

 

 

Tips for warming up after sea swimming

“After drop” is common after swimming in cold water; you get out and feel fine, and then you start to get colder, sometimes growing faint, shivering violently and feeling unwell.” (Outdoor Swimming Society) 

Learning to head off the after drop is a key part of continuing to swim in cold water all year round. While in the cold water you can be lured into a false sense of security (numbness!) and stay in for what turns out to be too long. With practice you learn your limitations and just how cold you are going to be about 10 minutes after getting out. You then moderate your swim times and get out before you feel you have to. Then the key is warming up – slowly. If you have a hot shower, for example, the blood can run from your core (where it is working hard to maintain your core temperature and keep you alive!) to your skin and actually make your temperature drop along with your blood pressure – potentially making you feel faint and ‘stinging’ your skin.

Tips to warm up after you get out of cold water: 

  • Get dressed as soon as you can. Preferably starting with the top half of your body.  Use a haramaki. As you start to warm up blood starts to recirculate in your extremities and peripheral blood vessels, cooling as it travels. You can lose up to 4.5°C from your core temperature so a haramaki is great.
  • Use a robe or a sports cloak to get dressed quicker and protect you from the windchill as well as your dignity.
  • Put on a hat and gloves and have some tea from a flask you brought with you!
  • Put on lots of layers. Haramaki, gloves, hat, thermals.
  • Sip a warm drink: this helps warm the body gently from the inside.
  • Eat something: sugar will help raise body temperature so have some cake!
  • Sit in a warm environment: chance for more tea and more cake with your fellow swimmers….
  • Walk around to generate body heat. It can take some time to warm properly. Running up and down the beach while waiting for your friends-who-faff can help.

For more information about acclimatising to cold water, the benefits and the risks go to the Outdoor Swimming Society 

If you have any good tips please add in the comments 🙂

Author: Cath Seabird

Fitting in a Swim

….or not.

Pretty apt this week because I can’t. That to do list is ever present, either in the back of my mind, the forefront of my mind, or written down (with no ticks) on the back of a used envelope. A great example of winning at the who’s busiest competition but losing at life.

Women are their own worst nightmare when it comes to wearing BUSY as a badge of honour. Whether you work full-time, part-time, freelance, manage the home or volunteer we like to share how busy we are. When asked ‘how are you?’ the reply will nearly always contain a reference to how busy you are rather than how you actually are. Probably because we are so busy we haven’t actually taken the time to figure out how we are and so don’t know the answer to the question.

In a world where Social Media now shapes and influences our lives we are bombarded with images of women who are busy. Famous female CEOs who have treadmills in their offices so they can exercise and do their emails at the same time. Women who go back to work after a few days maternity leave. Why are we even asking the question about how they balance work and life? Perpetuating the busy.

Are these ‘busy’ women pioneers shaping the way for future females or is this feminism gone wrong? This very female phenomenon of being busy all of the time could be a consequence of competing with men. They possibly feel they need to be busier to justify their position. To smash through the glass ceiling. Multitasking seen as a female attribute – men can’t do it. Women demonstrate and foster this thinking by working, cooking from scratch, running marathons, joining the PTA, arranging numerous play dates, meeting friends for drinks, attending sports day, ferrying kids to activities. It’s not that men can’t do it but chose not to do it. They worth is not measured by their peers in levels of ‘busyness’.

There is nothing wrong with doing all of the above but there is also nothing wrong with doing none of the above. I am a big reader yet I am often met with scorn from other women when I suggest a good book to them. I am have been told, on more than one occasion, I am lucky that I have time to read. It takes all of my self control not to snipe back ‘I am just more organised than you’ but that would be childish and encourage the busy competition. I hate busy competition but it is ever present in my life. I worry when I post a happy picture of me swimming in the sea it will be received and interpreted as ‘she’s got far too much time on her hands’ by other women.

I am not immune to these thoughts, opinions, scoffs. It’s so easy to judge and compare when our lives are laid out for all to observe on Instagram or Facebook. One of the ways I combat being caught up in the busy race and social media life comparisons, is swimming. You cannot take your phone into the sea. Your mental to do list is actually erased by salt water. And I can’t be a mum Taxi if I am on the beach.

There are still times when I am ‘too busy’ to swim. This week is a great example of how Mother Nature put pay to my swimming plans and I rolled over and let her. I could have relocated, found shelter in the harbour, tried a river instead or even an outdoor pool. But no, I had a great excuse not to swim. Stormy seas meant having to consider tide times and conditions and relocating was far to difficult to fit into my busy schedule. So I didn’t and haven’t had a sea swim all week. And my goodness do my kids and husband know it!

So I am back in the sea today. I can’t wait. Whilst I have had a dopamine hit from ticking off that to do list, I think an adrenaline rush from diving through waves would have been better. It’s great that I have managed to re-do our household budget, switch insurance providers and sort out my cluttered wardrobe but all of those tasks could have waited until after I had had a swim. Especially when I know how great I feel after some salt water therapy.

It’s time to stop the busy bus – I want to get off!

The Days of the Dawnie are numbered

Not only is winter approaching, fast cooling the sea and air temperature, but daylight is fading fast too. And shorter days mean less opportunity to swim particularly if you are an early bird like me.

My favourite time to swim is first thing in the morning. I regularly wake up at 5.30am without an alarm all year round no matter what time, and in what state, I have gone to bed. This is both a blessing and curse. The curse is quite obvious. I can’t stay awake past 9pm, most peoples lunchtime is when I want to be eating my evening meal and don’t even think about asking me to do anything that uses my brain or my body after 4pm.

The blessing of being up at the crack of dawn is no body else is. I can start my day at my own pace and chose solitude or a seabird swim.

Brighton Beach in the morning is a totally different place to the bustling tourist trap that is presented on the front page of the red tops every time we get a hot day. Most locals stay up late and get up late so the shops and cafes do the same. So you can head down to the beach and scarcely see a soul. There is a huge community of sea swimmers, cycling commuters and promenade runners, but not a tourist in sight. Sadly the remnants of their late night activities too often are.

As you approach the sea front road you see people strolling out of the flats, towels rolled under arm, and heading onto the shingle for their morning constitutional. Open water swimming is a very social pursuit and fosters strong communities but the early morning swimmer seeks solace and silence. Courteous nods are exchanged but little chatter as you find your own spot and sink into the sea. Even if you are in a group voices are muted to suit the situation.

I have been trying to put my finger on what is so special about swimming at dawn. For surfers they can catch clean waves before the air temperature rises and creates a sea breeze. With less people in the line up, they also get their pick of the waves. The same can be said for morning swimming. The still air can create mill pond conditions and you will always be able to find a quiet spot.

But it is more than that. Knowing you will leave the water feeling relaxed and ready to face the day is a particular draw for me. The calm before the storm. The stillness of the air and water literally gets absorbed into your soul. The light in the morning also carries a sweet peace. Grey or blue, bright or dull, cloudy or clear it has a special sort of light in the sky that steals the horizon creating an endless seascape. The sun is low in the sky gradually creeping upwards taking your mood with it.

But how many Dawn Patrols are their left before winter steals the sunlight? Well that all depends on how close you are to the equator. For the Seabirds in Brighton we’ve got light at 7am until the end of the October. When the clocks change and we leave British Summer Time we are given the gift of a few more early starts possibly into November. Much like last year we will just keep getting in the sea and see.