Easter Sunday: Bondi Blue Water Challenge 2013

Youngsters head off for the 1km swim

I slept in on Easter Sunday so it was a rush to get out of the house, with my two daughters in tow.

Our last swim together was in 2009 or thereabouts, at Mollymook on the NSW south coast.


Because I'd registered and paid for the Bondi Blue Water Challenge on Saturday there was no getting out of it, even though the day started with an overcast sky and a distinct pre-autumnal chill in the air.

It cost me $65 for the 1km and 2.1km swim, and $40 each for the girls to enter the longer of the two swims. A small bloody fortune for a day out at the beach. The things parents do to keep the family together!

I thought (sort of hoped) I was going to miss the 1km event but we got to the beach in record time, even with the traffic lights working against us all the way up Oxford St.

Down on the beach, the conditions looked good even though the weather didn't.

The complete opposite of Friday's boom-bang surf at Freshwater. Bondi was a bay, with lovely little waves breaking on the shore.

I peeled off my jumper, shivered as the breeze hit my skin, and decided to forgo the warm-up. Brrrrrrrr...

PP and The Hiss were rugged up and quite content to sit the first swim out. We met up with Mr Mild Mannered, who accompanied us to the start line. 

He chose not to do the 1km swim as he wanted to give it his best shot in the longer swim. Same with Mr Smith of the Smiths of Taree and The Masseuse. 

They needed to protect their positions - by maintaining their handicap points - in the top 20 of the Olympus Tough Fine Ocean Swimmers Series (they all made it and are now in the running for the random draws of either a trip to Vanuatu or a trip to Fiji - http://www.oceanswims.com/images/downloads/olympustoughfosseres1213finaltallies.htm).

They missed out on a beautiful swim. A sigh of pleasure escapes me now as I think about it and struggle to find the words to describe it - without falling into terrible cliches. 

During the swim I watched in fascination as multiple strands of pearls streamed from my mouth and smaller beads up along my pale arms as I coursed through the aquamarine water. I could see the 10 metres down to the ocean floor all of the way. As I swam towards the shore, beneath me the green reeds swooshed back and forward to the rhythm of the breaking waves.

I ran up the beach, feeling rejuvenated. I didn't need to put on a jumper. The swim had warmed me up.

In the longer event, PP and The Hiss started before me.

This became a very different swim to the 1km, mainly because we headed further out, close to Mackenzies Point, and then across the back of the bay before the sprint to the finish line.

You know you're doing a real ocean swim when you can no longer see the bottom. No black line to guide you. No idea what lies beneath.

By the time we got to Mackenzies Point and chucked a left around one of only four buoys (from my bad memory), the sun was poking through the clouds. Its rays penetrated the water's surface to form shafts of ethereal light. The ocean floor remained an unreachable mystery.

My left-breathing habit served me well during the swim and provided an excellent view of the Campbell Parade skyline and of the swimmers next to me. It was a nice clean run to the next turning buoy. I turned left close to it and then hit the chop. Where did that come from?

I think it was more noticeable because we had to cut across the bay on the bias, so we were swimming into the head of the chop. Does that make sense?

Anyway, I swallowed lots of salty water on the way to the final bouy that set me on a straight path to the blue inflatable finish pergola thingy.

Maybe I should have moved more to the left of it because I'm sure I got caught in a rip on the way in. I seemed to be swimming against the current - and not getting anywhere.

It took a lot of effort to break free but I managed to hitch on to a small wave that launched me on to the beach like a flapping fish out of water.

The Hiss and PP were there to greet me after I picked up an apple and a bottle of water*.

PP was surprised to learn she came third in her age group F19-24 as there were only four swimmers in that category!

It meant that we hung around for the presentation, which was efficiently delivered. PP picked up a Bondi singlet and The Hiss caught a Bondi cap that was thrown into the audience.

One of the nice things about the presentation is the free food provided by the Bondi Surf Life Saving Club. We stuffed ourselves with mini-pies, sausage rolls and chicken and lamb kebabs.

How good is that? No other club does it - the one that comes closest is Mona Vale, which provides a fantastic steaming hot minestrone after its winter swim.

April is jam packed with swims and then there's the wonderful Byron Bay swim in May - a wonderful way to end an interesting season.

The Hiss and PP together at Bondi.

*Bottled water is a no no. All ocean swims should hand out water in paper cups.

PS: The natural order was restored yesterday when Mr Mild Mannered finished ahead of me in the 2.1km swim.

PPS: But I beat The Hiss! She wasn't impressed.    

Finally, the fat lady swims: North Steyne to Shelly Beach and back

The first wave of kidlets hit the surf in the 2.8km swim.

The weekend was shaping up to be a beauty. I checked beachwatch and seabreeze.

Sun - tick
Light winds - tick
Friendly waves - tick
Perfect temperature, in and out of the ocean - tick

No one wanted to drive down south with me to the Coalcliff to Stanwell Park swim. And can you blame them? After the Caves Beach debacle I couldn't trust myself to toddle around the block without getting lost.

I chose the familiar, shorter path. The 15th North Steyne to Shelly Beach swim.

Feeling cocky and confident, I entered both the 1km and 2.8km swim. It cost $45.

If the conditions were less than ideal I could always pull out of the 1km.

I left home early, giving myself plenty of time to get to the beach for the 9.15am start of the 1km event.

Parking on Raglan St, I walked down the hill towards Manly and let the sun seep into my pores. As usual, I was nervous but also excited and happy.

It had been so long between swims and I couldn't wait to fling my body into the ocean like a bloody sacrifice. 

Woman against the elements. Woman in her element. Woman like an elephant. 

I gained several unwelcome kilos in my month away from ocean swimming. Skirts tighter, jeans' button digging into belly button.Too much neurotic eating and not enough serious swimming. 

I didn't think I'd see anyone I knew on the beach because a lot of the diehards were down south - though I knew Sharkman would be there because I'd seen his name on the 'progress entries' list on the oceanswims website. 

Sure enough, I met him on the sand. The day before he'd completed the 3.8km swim across Lake Macquarie at Belmont (argh, nightmares of Caves Beach).  I did that one last year.

It made sense for Sharkman to do both North Steyne swims in order to boost his kilometres' total in to maintain his title of the King of accumulated Distance.

While chatting to Sharkman, I spotted THE DEFECTOR aka Mr Very Big (VB).

Until recently, VB and I were members of the same swim squad along with Mr Mild Mannered (MM) and The Lawyer.

Then VB did the unthinkable. HE CHANGED SQUADS.

Worse still, he didn't tell us. HE ABANDONED US.

It's not about the squad. It's about MATESHIP.

VB, if you read this, remember this isn't bloody Ireland, it's bloody AUSTRALIA. MATES MATTER.


VB has joined another squad because he needs to practise long-distance swimming in preparation for a 13 kilometre swim in Galway Bay in August. Fair enough. His new coach specialises in distance and our head coach, Mr Mean, is into triathlons and shorter ocean distances.

We'll miss the Irish bastard.

But he did what he had to do. Because more than mateship, it's all about THE SWIM. The striving to get better, faster and to go for longer (in those new budgy smugglers - see below).

VB was his usual charming self and apologised about his defection and lack of transparency. I forgave him on behalf of my peers.

He wore his new budgy smugglers. Too garish for mine. I noticed the budgys before the man himself! There's a long story behind those swimmers, but best not go into it here. Another time.

And now to the swims.

The ocean was a blue satin sheet, with the occasional ripple and a frilly white edge. OTT.

Let's just say it was "noice".

There were a couple of waves in the 1km but the oldies started with the 40+ age group. It was an anti-clockwise rectangular course with a couple of orange buoys to guide the way.

Regular readers of this blog know I have no sense of direction. So it comes as no surprise that I swam past one of the buoys I was supposed to turn around. I had to retrace my strokes to get back around it, which affected my time by about 60 seconds. *Shakes head at own stupidity*

Because the surf was so small I had no trouble at the start or finish. I ran up the beach, where the number on my inner arm was checked by three different timekeepers as electronic ankle timers weren't being used.


After some free grapes and a complimentary protein snack I felt ready for the longer swim down to Shelly Beach and back along the beach to North Steyne.
 
Usually I'd find the 2.8 kilometres daunting but on Sunday it felt just right. I managed to swim down to Shelly without feeling tired. It wasn't all that different from pool swimming because there was little turbulence. Most of the waves came from the surf life saving inflatable that occasionally whizzed by. Yuck. Diesel fuel stinks.

Swinging around to the right at Shelly Beach and back through Fairy Bower I expected to see heaps of marine life. The water clarity wasn't as good as usual, probably a result of weeks of rain. I couldn't see to the bottom,  as you can on a good day. And I didn't see many sea creatures, though a school of long slender fish scooted beneath me for a couple of minutes as I worked my way back to South Steyne.

I started to tire about three quarters of the way through my swim but it was really just my right arm, which gets sore because of incorrect technique.

I had noticed early on in the swim that two other white-capped swimmers, like myself, were keeping me in their sights. Or was it the other way around. Not really. One was a woman and the other a male. The male disappeared for a while and I forgot about him but towards the end of the swim I noticed him again on my right side because I kept accidentally bumping into him (I breathe to the left so I couldn't see him).

The chick definitely had her eye on me. This got my goat. I thought, "Hey lady, leave me alone. I'm here for a good time."

Because I was breathing to my left and she breathed to her right, we kept an eye on each other. Then I slowly but surely pulled away. Afterwards I checked the finishers.

I know who you are chicky babe.

Does that sound threatening?

The swim ended with me getting caught up in some gentle breaks in an attempt to body surf back in. Maybe next time.

I finished in a reasonable time and came fourth in my female age group in both swims. That's fourth out of the eight women in my age group! I was happy with that.

Afterwards, my arms were heavy and tired but I didn't care.

It was good to be back on the beach.

This coming Easter long weekend, two swims that were postponed have been rescheduled - Freshwater for Good Friday and Bondi on Easter Sunday. What better way to meditate on the meaning of life.