Warriewood to Mona Vale Ocean Swim and it's a bad back and blue bottles - in that order

I don't wish a bad back on anyone. But that's what I have as a result of a misspent youth - I won't even go there. I just thank the heavens I'm still on this planet, with my cranky back and spent brain cells, after some of the seriously stupid things I've done in my life.

Today the bad back nearly stopped me from doing the Warriewood to Mona Vale Ocean Swim. But then my brother-in-law Davo - who last night said "I probably won't do it, I'm onto my second beer, the house is a mess, the missus is at me to tidy up and look after the kids" - does a 360 and this morning proclaims, "I'm ready and raring to go." 

Initially, I decided to do the drive up to the northern beaches as his support person, but then we arrived. I sniffed the salty air and saw the surf was just right - I was a goner. 

We parked for free at Mona Vale and caught the free shuttle bus to Warriewood, where I then forked out $40 for late rego. The back/hip was a bit shaky. I knew I wouldn't be able to run in or out of the surf. The run out after the swim was going to be hard because it was a hike up the beach. More of that later. 

Conditions were perfect, until we heard the dreaded word: BLUE BOTTLES. Actually, we heard the word back at Warriewood but I don't want to interrupt the story flow 'cos I'm on a roll. So, I went up to a tall lanky surf lifesaver, who had an Irish accent, and asked, "What about the blue bottles?"

And he reassured me with that gentle Irish brogue, "There's not that many."

Mind you, he was covered head-to-toe in sun-safe gear and didn't look as though he was about to go anywhere near the water. But it was enough to put me at ease. What can I say? I'm a pushover for Irish accents.

Davo and I were directed to two huge tins of petroleum jelly and slathered the stuff all over our exposed bits. I guess the blue bottles can't get a grip if you're as slippery as an eel.    

Unfortunately, Davo got the stuff all over his goggles, which meant he spent a lot of the swim in a Vaso fog. 

Because we're old, we started in the fourth/last 'wave' with the men and women together. There were some nice waves to negotiate out to the first can, which was about 400 metres from the shore. Then we chucked a left and swam north and parallel to the beach. There was a bit of chop, which made it uncomfortable and I swallowed a little bit of water. I also swam WIDE AGAIN. When will I learn? I saw a girl with a GPS on her back and wondered what the pattern would look like if I wore one. Probably a crazy zig-zag. 

There were six bouys but I lost count (it's those spent brain cells) and got a bit confused. Towards the last leg of the swim, I also felt a faint stinging sensation on my legs. Then a support crew on a surf ski told me to swim wide of several blue bottles. On the way into shore, I was definitely stung on the right inner-arm. 

As predicted, getting out of the surf and up the beach at the end of the swim was a bugger, and easily a dozen swimmers passed me on the run to the finish line. Bags of ice were on hand for the blue bottle casualties and I gratefully took one. 

Afterwards, Davo and I realised how lucky we were when we saw lots of the younger swimmers, who went out in the first wave, with huge welts from the blue bottle stingers. 

I didn't see her, but Davo said that elite swimmer Luane Rowe, who wins many of the ocean swims, was covered in angry looking red marks from where the blue bottles had wrapped themselves around her arms and legs. Poor girl. She'll suffer over the next week when the pain evolves into a tormenting, unrelenting itch.

Today's swim was 1.6 km, but Davo reckons it felt longer. I guess I do too, but I'm always so busy trying to figure out where I am during a swim that every swim seems long, no matter what the distance! I did hear some of the punters talking about how hard it was. And the blue bottles didn't help matters.  

Let's hope these unwelcome visitors are long gone by next Sunday when we line up for the big one - Palmy to Whale.

Top photo is a view of Warriewood and bottom is Mona Vale

Cole Classic 2010 where everyone's a winner - sort of

The bloke on the PA system at yesterday's Cole Classic kept saying: "Everyone's a winner here today."

This isn't strictly true. The big winners were Josh Beard (first man home) and Luane Rowe (first woman), who swam away with tickets to ocean swims in Vanuatu.

Moi, I got a bag with a copy of The Sun-Herald, a medallion (does that mean I'm a winner?), a snack bar and a sun-protection lotion sample.

But even though I'm a grumpy old bitch, I'm not complaining. It was a fabulous swim and a huge improvement on last year's mess.

Fairfax, the newspaper proprietors, have run the event for the past two years, which has led some die-hard ocean swimmers to bemoan the commercialisation of one of Sydney's 'iconic' ocean swims. And it is expensive at $47 - $57 if you miss the early-bird entry cut-off.

But today, despite erratic weather, it ran like clockwork. The organisers learnt lessons from last year, so the swim started on time, no buoys were shifted around the course mid-swim and the starting swimmers didn't collide with the swimmers coming back in.

The swim start has now been permanently moved from Manly to the sheltered Shelly Beach and is supposed to end at Manly. But because the swell was a bit big (didn't bother me) the finish was moved to Shelly - as happened in 2009. The organisers weren't taking any chances on the newbie entrants.

Apparently, there were around 4500 swimmers in the 1 km and 2 km events.

The early morning weather was miserable, after sheeting rain during the night, so I half expected the swim to be called off. But the gods shone down on Shelly and gave us glimpses of sun mixed with light rain.

Davo and Precious Princess (PP) were my swim mates. Poor old PP hasn't done any exercise for about nine months (she reckons walking to the bus stop counts) so she felt it. Afterwards she complained of having pain down her left side mid-swim. PP is 18 and a little prone to exaggeration. She also partied hard last night and Friday night.

Davo was in the 7th wave of swimmers (old blokes) and I was in the 10th with all the other 50+ women. Let me tell you, these birds are rough and tough as nails. It was like a scrum as we raced into the water after the starter gun, and throughout the swim/race I was poked and prodded by my 'sisters'. Don't ever let anyone tell you that women over 50 are mellow. There was a lot of repressed anger in my cohort!

After the swim, Davo said he thought he'd seen baby sharks, which is exactly what I saw about 5 metres (not good with depths, so might be wrong here) beneath me and 1 km or so into the swim. The little critters were cruising below like choreographed ballet dancers. Apparently, juvenile dusky sharks hang out at Fairy Bower on the western side of the beach. Two sightings couldn't be wrong. PP was in such pain so she saw nothing during the swim, except her life flashing before her eyes. Serves her right.

I loved this swim. The water was glorious and I saw lots of fish.

My only misgiving, if it's true, is about the profit that Fairfax makes from the event. Mr Oceanswims, who runs www.oceanswims.com, claims Fairfax makes a $100,000 profit. If this is the case, I reckon they should come clean and donate any leftover cash into the surf lifesaving community.

Still, I'll be back next year just for the fun of it.

The photos are of PP and Davo with their 'winners' medals, the view to Manly and looking at Shelly Beach from the esplanade.