Bondi to Bronte Ocean Swim 2012: oh no, not this again! A southerly buster causes a commotion

I don't know where to start with this one. Should I talk about the weather in the days prior to the Bondi to Bronte Ocean Swim? In a tick. 

First things first. Early last week a red algal bloom closed both Bondi and Clovelly. In the photos in the newspaper story it looks like dirty blood. Sorry about long link. Too lazy to do tiny url. 

http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/nation/algal-bloom-red-tide-closes-aussie-icon-bondi-beach/story-e6frg6nf-1226524971465

Meanwhile, Bruce and his mates in grey suits were out and about doing their Christmas shopping at Palmy and Whale up on the northern beaches. There were shark sightings for several days.

Now, let's talk about Sunday's swim - starting with the weather.

Friday: stinker. Ocean flat as... Saturday: fry bacon and eggs on the car bonnet. Ocean more like a mill pond...

Sunday (swim day): Sydney wakes up to a Southerly and a leaden sky. The temperature has plummeted from 36 degrees max to 24 degrees max. 

That's okay - when it's not blowing a gale that agitates the ocean into a churning white-capped poltergeist.

So, we stand on the beach and look out to sea and reminisce about last year's swim - a horror story that grows more gruesome with each re-telling. 

The 2011 swim was Nightmare on Campbell Pde - an insane Southerly iced the air, 16 degree ocean bore into bone marrow and the swell rock 'n' rolled like the drunk bogans that stumble down George St on a Friday night.

I calm myself with the knowledge that Sunday's water temp is 19 degrees. That's tolerable, though I can see lots of people dragging on their wetsuits.

The B2B wetsuit policy has changed as a consequence of last year's swim, where a significant number of punters suffered from hypothermia. Some poor bugger was raced off to hospital in an ambo and the organisers ran out of alfoil ponchos. I've still got mine - just in case.

Now the rule goes: 20+ degrees water temp and 25+ air temp = no wetsuits; 20+ water -25 air temp = wetsuits allowed; -20 degrees water temp = wetsuits allowed. 

If you want my opinion then keep reading. I reckon Sydney's gone soft. Yesterday I managed the distance in 19 degrees without feeling any detrimental after-effects, and I'm no Spartan.  If anything, I'm a coward who loves a heated swimming pool and a hot shower after a swim. 

This would be my rule: Only allow wetsuits when the water temp is 20 degrees or less and the air temp is less than 24. 

And don't let the wetsuit wearers claim a prize! They have an unfair advantage because they're not only warmer than the other mug punters, they're more buoyant than the rest of us eejits out there freezing off our goolies. 


Put the soft sheilas in an assisted category where first prize is a hot water bottle.

End of rant. Back on task.

Did this swim do it for me? Maybe it's best to compare it to last year's:

1. This year the organisers added three more marker buoys (hot pink witches hats) to take the number from seven to 10. I love this. As I explained in my last blog post, the more buoys the better for this old blind lassie (not dog but laydeeeeeee) who has been known to get lost in the supermarket.

2. Getting in at the start of the swim worked for me. No dumpers or rip/current compared to last year.

3. Chop chop. More chop than suey. More chop than a black-belt ninja. Much the same as the conditions in 2011. I could find no rhythm to my stroke. Throw one arm forward into thin air because the swell has dipped and I am momentarily caught on the lip. Plunge into the suds. Do it all again. Ad infinitum.

4. Slap in the face. Kick in the head. Buffeted and bullied and bashed. 

A total of 1319 swimmers competed in this 2.4 kilometre swim that takes punters on a journey from Bondi to Mackenzie's Point, past Tamarama beach and in to the beach at Bronte. At one point I was being whacked around the head and torso by someone trying to swim over me. No fun.  I can't remember this happening last year but maybe that's because I'm still traumatised.

5. A lovely swim back in to the beach. Bronte can be a difficult beach and is listed as one of Sydney's most dangerous. But yesterday it remained calm so swimmers could get their mojo in the last 500 metres to the finish line. Some punters love a challenging exit. Not moi. 

Value for money: $40 ($50 on the day). A well organised swim - the volunteers did a wonderful job. Before the swim, punters toss their stuff into a plastic bag, write their name on it and throw it in the back of a truck. The bags are delivered to Bronte and chucked on the grass. Surprisingly, it's not that hard to find your bag amongst hundreds. 

Oodles of water safety and friendly surf life savers keeping a watchful eye on swimmers navigating choppy, potentially dangerous conditions.  

Score out 10: 8

Any gripes? Are clubs in the eastern suburbs that strapped for cash that they can't afford to hand out a piece of fruit? 

I know I'm harping about the fruit and I will stop because next week's swim is at on the northern beaches at Bilgola, where fruit is handed out post swim. Yesterday we were offered a cup of yellow Gatorade - and there was no limit (unlike Coogee where it was ONE BOTTLE OF WATER per punter).

The website that promotes the swim is well designed but when I searched the results I couldn't find the placings broken down into category. I like to see where I've finished in my age group. 

And you know how I feel about slippery seals in wetties. And forgot to mention fins. Wearers of fins/flippers should start in the last wave. Those things are lethal weapons when in motion. 


PS: Thanks to Ms Fivestar, who took all the photos for this post. They're gorgeous.

Sculpture by the Sea 2011 and a snorkel at Gordons Bay for good measure

It could be somewhere in Europe but it's not: Gordons Bay

Just because I'm sick as a dog doesn't mean I can't stuff myself with paracetamol and join my mates Ms Onyabike and Mrs Snorkel for a frolic by the sea.

It was Mrs Snorkel's idea to go to Gordons Bay, which is around the corner from Clovelly beach in Sydney's eastern suburbs. On a good day at Gordons Bay punters can catch glimpses of wobbegongs and blue gropers. On Monday the water was so clear you could see all the way to the ocean floor - even as far out as the open sea. 

It was chilly but the experience of snorkelling is, as Ms Onyabike noted, theraputic. This is because, when wearing the snorkel and goggles, you become conscious of the sound of your breathing. It's all you hear - the deep regular 'in' and 'out' of your own breath as your eyes scan the scene below for - anything! 

In my former posts, I've written about my talent for scaring away marine life. My theory is that a sonar warning* is relayed to the creatures of the deep that alerts them to my presence in the immediate vicinity. This sends them scurrying under the nearest big rocks to avoid my curious gaze.

And so it was on Monday. Mrs Snorkel bobbed to the surface and removed her mouthpiece to proclaim: "I've never seen it so quiet down there. I haven't seen anything yet."

IT'S BECAUSE OF MOI. I could never get a job with Trawler Men.

I did manage to spot a few obliging anemone (maybe it's because they're stuck to the rocks and can't go anywhere), one ray (pretending to be sand), a herd of tiny zebra fish and another fish that looked like he was wearing khaki (obviously camouflage).  

The only two real gripes I have with Gordons Bay is that no one tells you about the litter washed up on the beach. And that some arsehole has put out lobster pots when I'm sure this little part of the world is a marine wildlife reserve. But hey, that's Australia. You can never escape that sense of entitlement that has become so much a part of the Aussie makeup (that's a whole other post).

Everything including the bathroom sink

On a lighter note... afterwards we basked for a moment in the sun before heading around to Tamarama Beach to view the  Sculpture by the Sea 2011 exhibition, which features sculptures all the way along the coastal walk to Bondi Beach. 

Inside the tyre turtle was a cubby house filled with bric-a-brac

I've popped in some of the more creative sculptures in this incredible annual event that now has offshoots around the globe in countries such as Denmark (due in part, I think, to Australian-born Princess Mary).

Easter Island meets Tamarama Beach

Later we cooled off at Tamarama, a narrow beach renowned for its semi-permanent rip.  

Mrs Snorkel and Ms Onyabike with the vacationing Buddha, who is wearing shorts and thongs

*I suspect there is a sea creature on watch who has in its possession an identikit photo of me kitted out in full snorkelling gear. Not fair.