Reflections on the Byron Bay Winter Whales Ocean Swim Classic 2012: the perfect storm

Clarke's Beach and Main Beach the day after - not so benign

What a week. I hate it when work and general lethargy get in the way of life.

A week after the Byron Bay swim's cancellation, I don't have much to say except that I 'dunnit' with Mr Very Big after the organisers told us (and 2000 other punters) not to.

The swim was cancelled last Sunday shortly before the start. Everyone was pumped and ready to go, so when the announcement was made a collective cry of disbelief could be heard at Wategos Beach.

A woman next to me who was about 50 but had the toned body of a 20-year-old elite athlete (jeeeeez - she had a six pack), muttered: "It's because of Kurrawa."

She was referring to the death last month of Matthew Barclay, 14, at Kurrawa Beach on the Gold Coast during the Australian Surf Life Saving Championships. In 2010, ironman Saxon Bird, 19, drowned at the same beach during the titles after being hit by a stray surf ski.

In April two Sri Lankan men drowned at the Byron Bay's Belongil Beach after they got caught in a rip.

No wonder the organisers were nervous.  Two thousand punters. That's a huge responsibility.

Apparently, numerous young competitors were hauled out of the water during the 800-metre mini-swim from Clarke's Beach to Main Beach, which takes place before the main event. 

This caused the organisers to make their last-minute decision to stop the show.

After "umming" and "ah-ing", my swimming mates Mrs Snorkel and Mrs Onyabike decided not to swim. My friend Mr Very Big had joined us on the sand. It was to be his first time and he was incredibly disappointed that he was going to miss out on what is usually an amazing swim. 

As we considered our options - you'd think there would only be one - we noticed a lot of the swimmers had ignored the organisers and were heading out towards the buoys that were still in place on the course. 

While we wriggled our toes in the sand and argued the pros and cons, a couple of hundred nutters set off before us. A sea of multi-coloured caps bobbed in the ocean like a packet of lollies being tumbled out of the pack.

"Let's do it," we said. "We'll regret it if we don't."

And the rest is history.

Thank you dear God that I am hear to tell the tale because it was a bloody wild ride. The main issues were, according to the organisers, the bombora off The Pass, which is the rocky outcrop off the point that separates Wategos from Clarke's Beach. Surfers congregate off The Pass in the hope of finding the perfect barrel.

On Sunday it was wild and the bombora was pumping. Mr Very Big and I were lucky/clever because we swam wide of The Pass. Those swimmers who attempted to cut corners and by swimming close to The Pass were smashed by the bombora onto the rock shelf. Afterwards we heard that some poor bloked cracked his head.

The swim at this point was hairy and I had to keep my head screwed on. Panic simmered around my throat. I had to keep pushing it down. 

The swell was massive. Seriously, it felt like The Perfect Storm when the fishing boat soared down the face of the mighty swell and up the other side. That's what we were doing. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. You could hear the squeals of the swimmers ahead of us as the swell came through and lifted them up. 

Mr Very Big told me later that because I was breathing to my left side, I couldn't see the big swell raising its massive paws to pounce. He breathed to his right so he could see it all. (After the swim he also revealed that he nearly shat himself on several occasions). 

Once we were around The Pass, it was pleasant for a while but I could see the shore and the waves looked pretty mean. I couldn't see them breaking, but I could see their white tops and the sea spray flying backwards. They were dumpers.

Although the swim had been cancelled, the organisers took the precaution of sending out several surf life savers to manage the eejits. They were on their surf skis guiding swimmers into the beach. We stopped and asked one for advice. "Swim straight in," he said, "because the rip will drag you along anyway."

Great. 

That was when I started to pray: "God, I know I'm dumb - I can't help it - but today could you please help me out of this mess? Could you stop the 4 metre dumpers for a minute so I can reach the beach in one piece? I'll be really nice to everyone and won't get cranky in the traffic or drive too fast when I get back to Sydney. Please God - yes, yes, I know I'm always making promises but this time I swear I'll go to church... soon."

And then a miracle occurred. There was a break between sets and I made it in without getting dumped. Admittedly, it took me a while to get my footing and the rip dragged me a fair way up the beach but I managed to finally feel the glorious sand between my toes. 

It was a wonderful feeling. 

Mr Very Big and I hugged each other because we were both relieved to be alive! 

I owe God one (well, more than one). 

PS: The swim has been rescheduled as a "fun" swim on June 3. I won't be going. No money. No time.

Four seasons in one day: The Byron Bay Ocean Swim Classic 2011 (with brief reference to snoring)



A gouge in the sand: the result of torrential rain and rough seas

 Rain. Rain. And more rain. Truckloads of it, accompanied by blinding camera-flashes of lightning and cracking thunder. This was Byron Bay on Friday night.

When Ms Onyabike and I met up with the well-informed Mr and Mrs Snorkel, they told us the swim's organisers were worried about Sunday. Huge swells were predicted, with waves up to four metres. In surfer terms that's "gnarly". For me it's plain scary. 

On Saturday morning, I joined the end of the traditional conga line of swimmers who stroll up to The Pass, a rocky outcrop at the southern end of Clarkes Beach, to swim back to the surf club on Main Beach.

It wasn't the most pleasant of swims. Although the water was warm, it was murky green and I was alone for the journey, apart from a brief encounter with the real (deadset) Thor who, after a chat about the crap weather, sprinted away never to be seen again. Story of my life. 


On the beach at the Byron Bay Ocean Swim Classic



Later that day, the Snorkels and I moaned at Ms Onyabike. We'd been coming to Byron for four years and it had never been this bad - rough surf, intermittent rain squalls and brisk winds. We blamed her for this meteorological abnormality.

Fortunately, Ms Onyabike sent out good vibes (it must have been her high-frequency snoring, which brings tears to the eyes) and the clouds parted on Sunday morning to reveal a glorious blue sky.

One of the fun things about the Byron swim is getting on the bus, in our cossies, at Main Beach with other swimmers (we're herded onto the old codgers' bus, though we're sure we look much younger). The bus drops us at the swim's starting point - Wategos Beach.

Another fun thing is not starting last. With the Byron swim, the older age groups go off before the younger swimmers and the elite SuperFish. For me, this is wonderful because there are still spectators on the beach when I toddle out of the water at the end of the swim. And I get to see the elite swimmers finish.   

Back to the start - I was relieved to make it through the surf and to the first buoy without too much trouble. But from then on it was a hike. The surf was pumping at The Pass, so the swell rose and fell in grand sweeps as I tried to push through it like a worm trying to burrow into clay. The water was eerily opaque in contrast to previous years, where its  crystal clarity allowed swimmers to ogle turtles, stingrays and schools of fish.   


Running out of the surf at Main Beach after the swim 



I managed to avoid getting dumped on the way in, but a powerful north-running current almost ripped my legs off when I stood up and tried to wade across the sandbank towards the finish line. 



Mr Snorkle was there waving me in, having pulled out of the swim after feeling that his heart just wasn't in it. Aren't men funny?



Mrs Snorkel and Ms Onyabike were there, too, but they swam using 'swimming aids' - goggles, snorkels and fins. Am I big noting? 



It's my blog. 

Afterwards, we kept our bragging to the mimimum because we didn't want to upset Mr Snorkel. No jokes were made at his expense. We didn't question his masculinity, fitness or mental stamina to complete such an arduous swim. Nope. We're bigger than that.

      

Next year the Byron Bay Ocean Swim Classic celebrates its 25th year. We'll be back.

Byron Bay Winter Whales Ocean Swim Classic 2010

The pics say it all really. The Byron Bay Winter Whales Ocean Swim Classic is my favourite of all the ocean swims. My daughter Miss Hissy has a favourite word, which sums up the swim and location - SUBLIME (definition: majestic. Of high spiritual, moral or intellectual worth).

The locals say Byron has gone to the dogs because it's become such a tourist town. But I love it. When I arrive at Main Beach, I feel the release of tension in my neck and back. It's beautiful (the beach and the release of tension).

And the place still has a chilled-out hippy vibe, despite its gentrification. Backpackers and ferals cohabit with baby boomers, who haul their long boards up to The Pass in an attempt to rekindle their youth.

Also, over the first weekend in May the place is chock-a-block with ocean swimmers from as far south as the Mornington Peninsula. They're a weird lot, mostly older (once you hit 40 there's nothing better to do) and totally addicted to the sport. On the Friday, Saturday and Monday morning at 8am over 100 of their ilk gather at Main Beach and snake around to The Pass, just to swim back again. As if the swim on the Sunday isn't enough.

THE SWIM: Just before the 2.2 km swim started from Wategos on Sunday, we spotted two dolphins doing synchronised surfing off the break at The Pass, and during the swim my friend Mrs Snorkel saw four turtles (that's because she cheats and wears fins, snorkel and big fat goggles).

The course takes you out from Wategos, around The Pass and along Main Beach to the surf club, which is easy to see as a row of conifers act as markers. It's a dream course because you can have a good squizz while you swim, and still maintain your stroke. A bonus is the current that gives you a helpful nudge. The big, round orange buoys are easy to spot and, because the older swimmers start before the younger swimmers, which is unusual in an ocean swim, you are never alone.

The water wasn't its usual crystal clear this year as the swell churned up sand from the ocean floor. But you still get to see plenty of fish because it's reasonably shallow all the way.

I and the 2300 or so other punters had a bliss bomb of a weekend.

If only life was like this 24/7.

Pic 1 is at sunset looking towrds The Pass and the lighthouse; pic 2 was taken at The Pass looking out to Mt Warning; pic 3 was taken at the finish line on Main Beach by my friend Ms Five Star. I was still out with the mob, struggling to keep up and regretting several glasses of Pinot Noir consumed the night before the swim.