Summer Swims

With winter fast approaching (when swimming gets properly good) I really must bring my blog up to date. So here is a heavily abridged account of my summer swims, which had a distinctly Scottish theme.

Scottish Lochs 

First of all was a Swimtrek holiday in Loch Lomond and some of the surrounding smaller lochs. 3 days of swimming in some truly stunning scenery, in crisp clean lochs with peaty depths.

I was accompanied by fellow Brockwell Icicles Deb, Noelene and Candy, and the group was led by the very excellent Neil, who was our guide last year in the Lake District.

In we get

Al fresco changing

Aye Candy

Following on from such delights, us four Icicles stayed on for a few extra days, taking a very er cosy room at the jolly Inversnaid Bunkhouse:

A noticeable change in tempo now occurred, including ditching our wetsuits in favour of our birthday suits (!) for some delightful little dips in the small lochs nearby, such as Loch Ard and Loch Chon (if memory serves).

The Lesser-Spotted Noelene

On the bonnie bonnie banks of etc

 Between swims we even found time to tramp about and get thoroughly lost:

Good job Noelene was there to ferret out a path for us.

Good, we're doing well.

Jumping ship

Next up: a sail around the Inner Hebrides with family and friends all aboard the good ship Leader, a wonderful Brixham trawler dating back to 1892, cor, a jewel in the little fleet of Trinity Sailing:

Leader

Now swimming in open water is much more fun if you have someone to do it with, and I soon settled upon family friend, heart surgeon and all-round good egg Doc Martin as my chosen victim. With water temps in the region of 10 degrees he took some understandable persuading, but before long we had a pre-breakfast dip firmly entrenched in the daily routine (recorded in the ship's log as "Crazies go swimming").

At 7.25am each morning I would make my way to the boys' cabin and call in my most terrifying sing-song voice "Doc Maaartin, it's time to go swiiiiimiiiing", to which a little voice usually mewed "But I'm warm" from behind the bunkbed curtain. Perhaps schadenfreude should be renamed schadenfroide if you're taking pleasure in making someone else cold?

Anyway he soon got a taste for it, aha!

Here's a wonderful little clip, expertly filmed by my dear mother, of a swim off the island of Ulva, which is tucked behind Mull. The bay was totally flat and clear, seals could be seen napping on the shoreline and not a jelly fish in sight. Surely one of the best swims of my life.

On another occasion I was allowed to swim ashore (accompanied by the motorised dinghy) to Tobermory harbour from our anchorage in the bay, which felt like a Good Thing to do.

On gaining the land and making a shivery dash for the yachtclub showers, I heard a small child ask "Mummy, why is that lady wearing her swimming costume?" but didn't linger to catch the reply.

And finally

I was very proud to complete the iconic open water swim of the Outdoor Swimming Society - viz. the Dart 10k. A beautiful journey winding along the river Dart in Devon, from Totnes to Dittisham, with a nice bit of assistance by the current. It took 3 hours and 18 minutes and I swam the whole way with my loadstar and helpmeat, not to mention fellow Icicle, Marcus. (You might also spot Rev Graham, a regular on The Swimmer, tastefully photo-bombing us below).

Before

After

The medal is lovely and has the shape of the river cut into it. I took it to the lido the next day for Show and Tell.

Sara Returns!

Back in November we bid a sad farewell to Icicle Sara, and now - after an epic 3-week crossing of the Atlantic in force 8-9 gales followed by a jolly long rest in Barbados - our chief mischief-maker is back, looking for all the world like Polly Pocket with her new hairdo:

From Barbados to Brockwell in the blink of an Icicle

Over the past 6 weeks we've had to endure communications from Sara containing pics such as this:

And this:

While only being able to respond with material such as this:

Jack of all trades

For her first swim back, Sara looked slightly startled come end of length two, but soon mastered the situation for a respectable swim in 7-degree waters. Wot a gal.

To celebrate her safe return I made a pistachio cake, of which I was rather proud:

We scarfed it down in the cafe while Sara regaled us with tales of whales, night watches and cabin boys.

Cheers cheers cheers for Sara - the naughtiest Icicle was bound to be naughticle.