Mad march

It's the 18th of March and it's snowing.  Our second whiteout in a couple of weeks.  Crazy weather and this month has generally felt a bit crazy.  It was the first anniversary of Felix's death on the 8th/9th, and I was transported back to that horrendous week when I discovered he had died.  I had gone to see him in a show in Leicester where he was at university, and he never showed up at our meeting place.  I raised the alarm, and went to his halls where I arrived to find an ambulance outside.   He was dead in his room.. A year has passed and in many ways I am still in shock and there are many days when I still cannot comprehend it, I still not quite believe this has happened. 

When I swim - and this is particularly true of swimming in the sea - I feel closer to him.   In the water my body is weightless and I feel detached from the world, like a spirit, an essence, which I suppose is what he is now. I need that feeling of separation, of absence from my new life without him, and to return to a kind of state where I am with him.

This week I have slept very badly and felt a particular urge to swim.  Ju and I went down to Hopes Nose. It was low tide and we swam off a little beach packed with grey pebbles streaked with pink and white quartz   The water clasped us in its coldness and I shut my eyes and felt the water, and felt my son.

Another trip to the Hindu Temples

Approaching the first cave (photo Aaron Kitts) 

I never tire of swimming at the Hindu Temples in Torquay.  They are a set of interlinking caves in the sandstone cliffs at Livermead; the writer Charles Kingsley described them thus:  "the fantastic rocks of Livermead, scooped by the waves into a labyrinth of double and triple caves, like Hindu Temples..." They are an extraordinary natural feature. On Saturday morning we arrived to find the sea calm and a stunning petrol blue.  The dark entrances of the caves beckoned us in and rock doves cooed above, roosting in the crevices, as we swam into the gurgling depths of the first cave.   The water swirled around in the second cave and I got a bruised knee, but I never mind a few bruises after a swim like that.

Stuart and Olivia 

Mark inside the caves

A very special sunrise swim

I hate getting up early but sometimes it really is worth it.  Today was a case in point.    Swimming slowly in the silky soft sea, seeing the horizon getting pinker by the minute, and finally the moment when the sun popped up, in its dazzling glory, above the Imperial Hotel. We were in Torquay, by the Hindu Temples caves, which get miraculously lit up in the morning sunlight. Jackie was swimming with a waterproof bag, in which she had secreted a breakfast 'starter' of cream cheese and smoked salmon, which we ate on a sun-drenched rock in front of the caves.  We swam around for a while afterwards, revelling in the magical dawn, and then repaired for a cooked breakfast on the sandstone headland.

Spring at London Bridge

As we walked down the coastpath from Daddyhole Plain in Torquay, the view out to sea was hazy and almost eerie.  The sea was glassy and flat calm, and everything seemed rather blurred and dreamlike   As we got nearer the water, we got a sudden glimpse through the trees of  petrol-blue water.   Having made our way down through the sadly neglected and rubbish-strewn gardens above Peaked Tor Cove, we changed in the sun before setting out on our aquatic adventure to London Bridge, a natural arch that just cries out to be swum through.  The water was calm, clear and beautiful, and we swooshed through the channel between Saddle Rock and the coastline, before heading towards the majestic arch, which we swam underneath.  Out the other side, we swam further along the coast to a cave where the water gurgled in the crevices.

Thanks to Carole Whelan for the pictures.

Back to the 70s

Black forest gateau, pineapple upsidedown cake, crimplene, psychedlic prints, brown towelling and a particularly lurid pair of orange trunks all made star appearances in our 70s splashmob at Redgate Beach in Torquay.  My pal Matt had the idea, after feeling sad that the beach, which was packed in its heyday, is now officially out of bounds - according to the council at least - because there's no safe way of getting to it.  Undeterred, we climbed around the rocks at low tide, armed with lilos, beach balls, and other paraphernalia, and set up camp on the beach.  There was a 70s spread of egg rolls, quiche, and pineapple and cheese on sticks, as well as the aforementioned cake. Very obligingly the sun came out - just like the heatwave of 76 - and the swimming was divine, in calm, warm water. 

The Afterdrop

My brother James was down so we decided to go for a swim at Meadfoot Beach in Torquay. It's particularly lovely because of its islands, and its stark, geometric rock formations.   It also has a cafe which is always a big plus.  To our surprise, when we arrived, we saw SAND on the beach; in the old days it was known as Meadfoot Sands but in recent years it's been all pebbles.  So over the winter, somehow, some sand has arrived from somewhere.  As we waded in we could see the water was incredibly clear; such a refreshing change from the last few months when it's been constantly murky.  We swam out and around Triangle Point, passing a protruding rock that looked just like a pig's head. We were having a great time exploring but then I looked at my watch and realised we'd already been in a quarter of a hour.  We swam back in and went up for a mug of tea and very welcome slice of Victoria sponge in the cafe, at which point James started to shiver.  Yes, it was the dreaded afterdrop: the moment, roughly twenty minutes after you come out, that the cold reaches your core.  We drank up and headed for the car and drove off with the heating on full blast.

Swimming in the morning mist

We met up for a breakast swim in Torquay.   The sun was rising through the mist, an eerie, almost smoky greyness was everywhere, and it felt magical and blurred.   

Swimming out to sea

It was a dank old morning on Dartmoor, and as I drove over towards Torquay I was bracing myself for one of those rather overcast and dull swims.   But as I got nearer the coast, the sun started to come out, and by the time I met Jackie, Anne and Kay at Maidencombe it was feeling positively spring-like.  As we walked down the steps to the beach the sea spread out like a vast blue blanket, and I could see a splash of yellow primroses growing half-way up the cliff.   We got in, and swam along the northerly arm of the beach, past the intricate geometry of the red sandstone blocks which cluster the bottom of the cliff, and out to the edge of the cove, where we could see all the way up the coast to Shaldon.   I've never swum out to this point before, and when I looked back I had a whole new perspective on the beach.     Thanks to Jackie and Anne for their pictures.

Feeling the love

Swimming seems to create such a bond.   It brings together people of different ages, beliefs, sizes and outlooks.   And yet they seem to share an indefinable something: a lust for life, a joy in the water, a spirit of adventure, a sense of humour, and a love of cake.  Today was a day when all that joy came together.  It started back in May, when Jackie got married to Gordon, her partner of twenty years.  Lesley had the brilliant idea of making her a wedding present from all her swimming friends.  We all knitted squares, and some really creative people made beautiful applique'd ones.  Several months and several meet-ups to sew them all together later,  we ended up with a blanket and a wall hanging. All that remained was to jump out, Jeremy Beadle like, when she went for a dip at her favourite swimming spot, Torre Abbey Sands in Torquay.  Well as you can imagine she was totally overcome as were most of us.  It felt just as good to be giving as receiving.  We then went for a mass dip - I lost count of the heads when I reached 25 - followed by a slap-up lunch.

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The perfect moonlit dip

Well, how about that?  An absolutely magical moonlit swim. Usually the clouds rain on our parade, but tonight it was cold and clear.  It was very exciting arriving at our swimming spot, Oddicombe Beach in Torquay, as I could glimpse the glimmering whiteness of the moon beckoning me through the trees as I drove down the winding road.  On arrival at the prom - well - there was a simply stunning  moon casting an enormous white pool of light onto the sea, and lighting up the cliffs behind the beach, creating a silvery amphitheatre.  As we stood on the shore we felt very cold,  and I was dreading getting in.  But the sea was a delicious, welcoming surprise.  It was warm and I felt comforted and enveloped as we moved around in the soft, smooth water, as it gently lapped against the shingle. 

Sparkling swimming

It was the first day of November and the red rocks  of Livermead were soaked in sun as we got changed on the ledges.   Aquatic Ape was down from London with Mrs Ape, as well as Fiona,  so we were keen to show them the beauties of Torbay.  First stop, the caves at Livermead, aka the Hindu Temples, which, as Jackie said, never disappoint.  The sea was a brilliant turquoise as we plunged in off the rocks and swam towards the alluring arches in the cliff.  Then were were into the first cave, where we marvelled at the intense blue glow of the water as the light bounced in and off the cave walls.   In one recess the water gurgled particularly menacingly.   After an exploration through the rest of the caves, watched by the resident pigeons, we went for lunch at the Meadfoot Cafe, before heading over to Anstey's Cove where the water was flat, beautiful and green, and where we had another swim. 

Starfish and chips

White Beach: pic Claire Bunker-Fellingham

For me, the best swims are when I go on a journey and find hidden places that only an aquatic adventurer can get to.  At Watcombe today we did just that - in petrol-blue seas, alongside terracotta cliffs and into starfish-studded caves and gullies. It was low water on a big spring tide, and as we arrived at the cove we could see out to a beautifully flat sea; Mike in the cafe told us they'd seen dolphins swimming past the day before.   We swam out, over a luxuriant kelp forest, and northwards along the coast where we passed White Beach and a fisherman checking his pots.   On we went, and into a cave where we found an edible crab sheltering in a perfect crab-sized niche.  The dark slit of a swim-through in the rocks ahead beckoned....in we swam, where we found the most amazing array of starfish.  There were hundreds of them, in all shapes and sizes, all over the rock faces.  We carried on to Bell Rock and through the 'eye of the needle', gazing up at the high water mark metres above us, the kelp swinging over our heads.  Back at the beach, we feasted on Mike's beautifully thin French fries with mugs of tea, while a friendly chap regaled us with his fishing stories, including an amazing one about how, when casting off the rocks for mullet, a dolphin swam past, and rolled on its side where its suckling baby was visible.

Redgate

Redgate Beach is one of the most beautiful in Torquay, but now officially out of bounds because it gets cut off by the tide.  In the old days there was a concrete walkway which enabled access, and old postcards from the 60s and 70s show the beach absolutely packed.  You can still get there if you're prepared to walk the sheep path down the cliff from Walls Hill, or to scramble around the rocks at low tide, but if you swim of course the beach is open all hours.  A gang of us arrived to find it looking stunning: fine sand, pink rock and most of all the sea stretching out in front, a wonderful juicy green.  We climbed down the rocks from Anstey's Cove next door, and were soon swimming in the protective curve of the cove, bathed in sunlight and sparkles one minute, then shrouded in grey the next, as the clouds came and went.  The sea was changing colour all the time, and although it wasn't completely clear we could still see rocks and seaweed - and Carole and Helen who did a bit of underwater diving.Jackie and I decided to swim to Long Quarry Point which forms one arm of the cove. We were hoping to go into a cave behind the pinnacle, which has a secret swimming pool. However as we approached, the sea started to get more choppy and there was too much swell to get into the cave.  I suppose that's one of the frustrations - and joys - of swimming in the sea.  You never quite know how a swim will turn out.

Kaleidoscope in the caves

The sun was shining in Torquay and we were meeting for a high tide swim through the sea caves at Livermead.  I have never before seen quite such vibrant colours in there.  The oranges and yellows of the walls, contrasted with the turquoise of the water, were stunning.  It was a particularly happy swim.  Lots of lovely people, including two children, having fun swimming through the different 'rooms' and marvelling at the exotic beauty of the sandstone shapes. And it was all topped off with a feast of hot cross buns, eaten in one of the caves, looking out of the 'window'.  Well it was Good Friday  - it would be rude not to.  Swimming back through one of the caves, the light effects were positively pyschedelic; the water seemed to glow.

 

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Swimming into the sunrise

The predicted conditions were converging in what seemed like a perfect combination for a dawn swim in Torquay: full sunshine, very little wind, and a high tide.  So we decided to go for it.  As we set off the dawn chorus was deafening. It was already light and when we got to the beach there was a warm pink glow to the east, behind the Big Wheel.  As we changed, the colours did too. a constant evolution from pink to orange to yellow.  We slipped into the water and swam towards the sunrise. The sea was like silk.  We started to swim around Corbyn Head,  a sandstone headland studded with caves, and a few moments later the sun popped up over the houses in the distance, bathing the cliffs in gentle yellow light.  

Return to the Hindu Temples

I'd been longing to go back to the Hindu Temples, a spectacular set of sea caves in between Torquay and Paignton, having not swum there for several months. Once you've been, they haunt you and call you back.  They were given their exotic name by the author Charles Kingsley who was captivated by their strange beauty one winter when he and his wife stayed in the Bay. We arrived to find a glorious blue sea, sparkling in the winter sun.  The water was almost turquoise against the great orange slabs of rock, studded with pearly barnacles,that overhung us. As we swam into the caves the water groaned and gurgled, and the light danced on the walls. We swam out of the first set and then climbed into the next, where we walked around before descending into a lower, water filled section, from where we swam out.   As we returned to the first cave someone said "What's that?"   I glanced over and dismissively replied "Oh, just a rock".  Then the rock moved.  "Aaaarggh!  It's a seal!"   Stuff the sightseeing, it was time to head for the shore.
Here's a video of our adventure (NOT featuring the seal).

Scaring the fishermen (but not the fishes)

My brother Matt was down, so we decided to go fishing at Hope's Nose - an exposed finger of land sticking out to sea in Torquay.  I was excited, not just because I love fishing with him, because he's so expert, but also because I've always longed to swim there but have never done so.  We'd done a recce the day before, when the sea had been crystal clear on the sheltered side of the point, but overnight there had been rain and gales and so the water had clouded.  No matter,  it was gloriously sunny and we set to and were soon catching whiting and pollack, as well as a dogfish.  There were about 20 chaps fishing - no women at all - and Matthew wasn't too keen on the idea of me going swimming as he viewed it as potentially the latest incident in a lifetime of me embarrassing him. However I was determined to go in and set off to a discreet spot away from the fishermen, taking my 13 year old son along for protection.  It's a particularly intriguing spot for swimming as there is a spectacular rocky pavement with pink splodges and white streaks, with many inlets and little natural swimming pools which fill up at high tide.  I found some convenient natural steps to walk down into the sea, from where I launched off and swam around some of the barnacle-pocked intricacies of the shoreline. Matthew needn't have worried; none of the fishermen took a blind bit of notice, being far more interested in what they were doing than in some strange woman taking a dip.

The sharks' fins of Torquay

A sporting swell and some fat rollers greeted us on our arrival at Meadfoot.  The sun was gloriously bright and the islands off the beach rose up like shark fins in the distance.  Getting in was a little hairy, as the waves tried to knock us over, but once in we were fine.  We swam around Triangle Rock, continuously carried up and down by the swell, and blinking in the brightness of the sun.   Once round the corner, we swam along to West Shag Rock.  Gary was keen to 'claim' it, and launched himself into the swirling surf at the bottom of the island, so as to stretch out and touch the rock before being knocked back by the surf. As we swam back I saw an exotic looking white house at the top of the cliff that I'd never noticed before, with the perfect round turret looking out to sea.

Underneath the arch

Allan had made a plan for a swim to London Bridge, a natural arch in Torquay.  Who would have thought that a swim in November would be so glorious?  As we arrived at Peaked Tor Cove the sun sparkled on the sea and the tide was very low. (It is a full moon tomorrow, so big tides).  We changed on the old concrete bathing platform, which was men-only in the days of segregated bathing, and climbed down the old barnacle-covered steps.  As we headed towards the arch the sun shone in our faces; London Bridge was stark in silhouette.  As we approached, it loomed in its great

magnificence.  The sea was petrol blue and glossy ribbons of kelp swayed to and fro, hanging from the rock. The tunnels and caves inside the arch were accessible, because the tide was low, and we swam inside, and were rocked up and down by the swell....before the cave turned nasty and spat us out.
Thanks to Jo Lubbe for the picture inside the cave.
And you can watch the swim below!