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!

It's getting colder......

Down to the Dart for a quick dip with Ellie...on arrival at Spitchwick there was a remarkable tideline of twigs showing how high the river has been in recent weeks.  Fortunately all had settled down and as we plunged in the cold clamped our limbs. We swam quickly upstream, gradually getting acclimatised, and then floated back down the bend and underneath a canopy of oaks, still in green-shield-stamp leaf. 

The call of the caves

The spontaneous swims are usually the best.  This morning a friend posted a picture of the sea in Torquay looking blue,  sparkling and flat, and I thought, right, I'm going over.  (Fortunately I didn't have anything so tedious as work to be getting on with).   Due to the miracles of social media a plan was made with friends within the hour. The conditions were perfect to swim at the sea caves at Livermead - christened the "Hindu Temples" by author Charles Kingsley, who was bowled over by their exotic shapes.  As we slipped into the petrol-blue water, bathed in autumnal sunlight, it was hard to believe the worst storm in 20 years had just passed through.  Inside the first set of caves the water rumbled like a hungry monster but the shafts of sunlight lightened the atmosphere.  In the second set, Gary and Claire found a whirlpool which they sat in, under the 'windows' above - just like being in the Flintstones' house.  A totally magical experience, made all the extraordinary by the fact that the caves are just yards from the main road between Torquay and Paignton; you might as well be in Wonderland.

Swimming to Silver Cove

South westerlies have been battering Devon, so I was in search of somewhere sheltered to swim.  Elberry Cove, in between Paignton and Brixham, was the obvious choice, tucked as it is in the SW corner of Torbay, with its back to the gales.  We arrived to find beautiful calm, verdigris water and as we waded in on a very low tide it felt really quite warm.  I've swum here many times and have always been curious about a little cove further along;  I assumed it had no name but my son was looking at a map on a board by the beach and discovered it is called Silver Cove.  We ended up swimming over to it, seeing herons, black backed gulls and cormorants on the way.  I had assumed it would be too cold to swim that far - about half a mile there and back - but the water was lovely. A few of us climbed out to 'claim' the beach; there was no silver or indeed any other treasure in evidence, perhaps it gets its name from the pale stones.
Thanks to Jackie Wills for the first picture.

Autumnal swimming

We're at that critical time of year when you have to keep immersing to be able to cope with the cold times ahead. Some friends and I have a regular Sunday morning dip in the Dart which I have only irregularly attended throughout the summer.  So this Sunday I was rather dreading getting in. I stood in the water for a while before taking the plunge, while the rest of the party faffed around on the bank.  That proved a good thing, as I started to get used to it so when I eventually launched it didn't feel too bad.  The water was beautifully clear and there was an amazing underwater autumnal spectacle of leaves drifting down down through the water like little gold coins. 

Wild Watcombe

 Last time I swam at Watcombe, in Torquay, the sea was flat and crystal clear.  We pootled along the coast under the terracotta cliffs and explored caves and a swim-through where the light created remarkable psychedelic effects.  Ever since, I've been wanting to go back, but today's experience could not have been more different.  Brown, lumpy seas greeted us, and waves tried to topple us as we made our way in.  We swam out of the cove and along the coast, past White Beach and towards the caves, which spewed out white spray busily.  No way could we go in.  But the bounce and sheer freedom of being out in the elements more than made up for that.  It was quite a battle against the constant swell and we all got rather pooped. On our return to the beach we enjoyed various  bakery products (as Ellie called them): jam and custard donuts (thank you Jackie) and pecan muffins (thank you Karen) as well as rum and jelly babies provided by yours truly.

My dear friend the Dart

I've been neglecting my great friend recently.  Don't know why really, I was constantly in the river during the heatwave, but in the last month I've just been in the sea.  So I was a bit apprehensive about getting back in the Dart again, having heard reports that the temperature has plummetted; indeed it's a little over half the temperature of the sea at the moment.  We went along to the Double Jacuzzi Pool, and I was last to get in, sliding in cautiously.  But to my great delight the water felt soft and silky - and really quite warm.  The big boulders below me looked fuzzy and out of focus.  The water has become less clear as the rain brings down mud and debris from higher up the Moor, and the boulders have acquired brown furry coats; no doubt I'll be doing the same in the next few weeks.

Birthday at Burgh

In what's now become a bit of a tradition at this time of year, I had a birthday party at Bigbury on Sea, with BBQ and a swim around Burgh Island.   Alex cooked up a storm and we had an absolute feast including sausages, prawns, mackerel, chicken and burgers; it was overcast but warm and we sat on the beach munching and gossiping.   Then we noticed an eerie sea mist lingering over the shiny slate cliffs in the distance; quite beautiful, and then we could see patches of sunlight on the sea in the distance.  A group of us set off to swim around the island; the water was flat as a millpond and as soon as I got in I felt excited because it was crystal clear and I could see the ripples in the sand underneath, studded with cockle shells. Kari and I swam in close to the island perimeter, over gardens of kelp and rocks covered in pink lichen; every so often in the gullies we got gently pulled in by small eddies and equally politely spat out. It was a low spring tide: in amongst the rocks were small lagoons, fringed with great swathes of seaweed, hanging down from their roots above us.  Back on the beach we had Stephanie's home-made bread and jam for pudding; the sun came out and it felt like summer.

Thanks to Allan Mcfadyen and Amanda Bluglass for the pictures.

Pier to Pub

I've just done the most wonderful charity swim. It was a party.  Everyone was so friendly, everything was so relaxed, and the whole thing rounded off with live music and a bbq at a pub overlooking the sea.  What more could you want? The Pier to Pub Swim in Paignton  was organised by three of my friends, Matt, Queenie and Mark. That's not why I'm raving about it (honest). In fact my expectations weren't high at all as I'd been hearing all about their nightmares in the months running up to the event; website registration problems, swimming cap orders not arriving, etc etc.  But on the day it all came together, and everyone had a ball.

Pool plunging (with an emergency rescue thrown in)

We were off to (new for me) territory: the East Okement river near Okehampton. Lynne led us through ancient woods which bristled with sunlight,  and up along the river past a series of pools and cascades.  The river ascended like a wonderful watery staircase, and culminated in a spectacular waterfall. We'd just got changed, ready for our dipping extravaganza, when we noticed an old man crawling along the path a bit further down.  He seemed rather incongruous, dressed quite smartly in a jacket and carrying a sodden newspaper, with muddy knees. We went to help and it was soon obvious he was very bewildered; to cut a long story short we called the police and some of the party escorted him back; it turned out he'd been reported missing a couple of hours earlier.  Good deed done for the day, we started our swimming at the pools above the waterfall, where Allan, Helen and Deb frolicked in a double cascade.  There was a bit of bravado from Lynne as she contemplated sliding down the huge waterfall; sensibly she decided against it and the party scrambled down and swam in the pool below it before climbing up and standing in the falls for some serious head and shoulder massage.  Further down the river we found a lovely bowl of a pool, lined with pale grey and green stones; it felt calm and womb-like.  From there we swam down through a series of small almost rectangular pools which felt like rooms; some lined with thick green moss to rival the finest flock wallpaper.