Jelly blubbers, vibrant green weed and a slap in the face: a swim around Wedding Cake Island at Coogee

It rained all week. The downpour started after the Dawny swim at Balmain on Sunday November 20 and continued unabated for six days. I kid you not. Then, after a torrential onslaught on Saturday morning, it stopped. The sun shone, the clouds evaporated and it was like it had never rained at all. Hallelujah.

Sunday morning was blue and blustery. My swimming partner Davo and I drove to Coogee in the eastern suburbs and spent 20 minutes looking for a parking spot. It's a fact of life in Sydney, especially near the beach. Everyone drives and everyone feels entitled to a parking space right next to the beach.

If you let 'em, they'd park on the bloody sand just like they do in those crappy Toyota ads that are trying to sell the concept of freedom to well-off Gen Xers who like to pop those horrid 'this is my family' stickers on the rear window of their 4WDs (for the millions of readers in the USA, I'm referring to SUVs). I'm ranting and raving because I'm a woman of a certain age. BACK TO THE SWIM. 

Davo and I found a parking space about 1 kilometre from the action. We walked down a steep hill to the beach, which was decked out for the 1 km and 2.4 km swims. When we arrived the 1 km swim had started and the first finisher was almost across the line. 

The sun was fierce and I could feel my skin begging for lotion and a shady place. After a warm-up in 18-degree water (though one bloke I was talking to reckoned it was more like 17 degrees), I was ready. The conditions were reasonable but we were told it was choppy out the back of Wedding Cake Island, which is why the support crew on their kayaks were sent out there to keep swimmers well clear of the rocks. 

If you know Coogee, you'll be familiar with Wedding Cake Island; in simple terms it's a big lump of rocks/reef (about 15 metres long and 400 metres wide) that juts out of the ocean about one kilometre from the beach. Check it out at this scuba-diving website:   http://www.michaelmcfadyenscuba.info/viewpage.php?page_id=34

The first wave of swimmers headed off and drifted to the left on a north-running current. My tactics for this swim were the same as for Dawny: 1. don't stop 2. try not to spend too much time looking up 3. maintain a race pace (I failed at this one). 

It was a pleasant trek past the first three pointy pink cans. My goggles half filled and I thought, 'bugger it'. It would have been too easy to stop and empty them. I guessed they'd probably just fill again and I'd get cranky and neurotic. The salt water in my eyes was manageable. 

Getting around the back of the island was difficult. The chop was full-on and slapped me around, so there was no point trying to maintain a rhythm. I wasn't sure where I was and did what one shouldn't do in ocean swimming - I followed the pack. 

I almost forgot to mention the jelly blubbers hanging around the back. Though my vision was limited, I could see thousands of them just like in Finding Nemo. Unlike the nasties in the movie, they were about the size of a golf ball, translucent and non-stinging. I sloshed through them and even pierced one with my finger. Some people don't enjoy swimming through blubbers but I like the soft gelatinous feel of them against my skin.

Another swim highlight was the reef. Because the water was clear as a bell I could see the rocky ocean floor peppered with lime-green weed contrasted against mauve soft corals. There were lots of fishies, too.            

Once I got around the island I thought all my troubles would be over but it was still a long way to the finish line on the beach and the chop was rougher than Saturday night at the Coogee Bay Hotel.

I couldn't see the big cylindrical orange can - the last marker into the beach. Again, I followed the other swimmers. Then I spotted a bloke who was easily 15 years older than me (maybe not - must look at results!). He seemed to know what he was doing and kept looking up to check the direction. I fell in just behind him and followed him home. A bad move? Maybe, maybe not. All of a sudden the orange can appeared in front of me and I pulled on my reserves for last 50 metres. There were no waves to speak of, just shallow dumpers, so the run out of the surf was stress-free. 

Afterwards, everyone said the swim was longer than 2.4 kilometres. I'd like to think so, considering my time.

Davo came in after me but he's already sneaking up on me now we're in the surf. Last week I finished 10 minutes ahead, this week only four minutes (he'll comment on that).

How would I rate the Coogee swim? It was well-run but there was no fresh fruit offered to swimmers who completed the event. I reckon that's a tiny bit stingy, since it's $40 for the 2.4 km swim. Many punters do both and pay $50 for the privilege.

Next Sunday is Bondi to Bronte. I don't think Davo is doing it and I haven't decided. 

I'll keep you posted. 

The urge to get back to the beach as winter drags on and SAD kicks in; and beware the weever

I need to get back to the beach and into the ocean. The withdrawal symptoms are starting to kick in: restlessness, lack of concentration, a tendency to daydream (more frequently than usual), short fuse, no focus, alcohol dependency (any excuse will do) and sluggishness (no slime thank you very much).

I've convinced myself my symptoms reflect those of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD).

The Mayo Clinic website says less daylight in autumn and winter, genetics and age are all factors that could contribute to SAD.

You can read more about the role melatonin plays in the condition at

http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/sad/MY00371

The Mayo Clinic's experts suggest light therapy, which is fine if you live in a country where there's hardly any daylight. But in Australia even in winter the sun shines brightly enough to have the same effect as a special light contraption, though the contraption's only advantage is it doesn't emit UV rays.

My issues are I don't live close to a beach so tend not to go unless the weather's hot and there's an organised ocean swim. Also, I don't have a wet suit and, to be honest, I don't feel like swimming for long periods in 16 degree Celsius water in winter. I can see the die-hards roll their eyes and hear them "tsk tsk".  I can't go there without a seal suit!

So that will be my next purchase when Spanner isn't looking.

And on another topic - BELIEVE IT OR NOT - England has a poisonous fish species! This summer more than 1000 holidaymakers swimming at the seaside in the UK have been spiked by the weever, the country's most venomous fish.

Lordy lord, I just Googled 'the weever' and it's a shocker. The culprit is the lesser weever (not its relative the greater weever), a sandy coloured six-inch long fish, which buries itself in the sand. Unsuspecting bathers step on it and its spiky dorsal fin becomes embedded in the flesh and releases venom. 

Andy Horton of the British Marine Life Study Society writes that the pain is "excruciating" and at its most "intense" for the first two hours. As with bluebottles, the method of treatment is to put the affected limb into really hot water. 

Apparently, weevers have always been a nuisance in summer on the south-west coast but this year they've sprung up at Hastings on the south coast and North Yorkshire. The reason? Warmer sea temperatures. 

The wimpy lesser weever won't kill you though, so Australia still retains bragging rights on its vast array of  DEADLY venomous creatures. So there Poms... take that *fish slap*.