Mermaid Pool

We weren't feeling quite up to a complete swim around Burgh Island, so decided to go and have a swim in the Mermaid Pool instead.  The storms have taken their toll - there was a huge hole in the wall which keeps the water in.   The pool was a shadow of its former self - more of a puddle in fact...with the diving platform standing on a sandbar. No storing the lobsters under there for the moment.   We swam and walked to the other side where there was deeper, greener water.  We could see over to the beach where there was a big pile of breeze blocks, so touchwood the hotel is going to mend the wall.

The Kingdom of Ladram

It felt like a disaster movie or the Lost World.  As we rounded the corner of Ladram Bay, to get to the sea stacks, it turned out there was no need to swim.   Someone had pulled the plug out and all the water had disappeared, leaving the normally hidden sea bed exposed, and revealing exotic shapes and colours in the sandstone.  We noticed beautiful soft honeycomb patterns underfoot, made out of sand and very fine shell.  Later we discovered they were living reefs, home to the tiny honeycomb worm.  We wandered around in awe.  It was pure chance that we'd come on this day at this time, which was actually on one of the lowest spring tides of the year, so it felt very special to be able to see this landscape which is so rarely revealed.  We had a dip on the main beach on our return, where there was still some water left.  Three years earlier we had swum around the towers at high tide, now we were walking round. That is one of the things I really love about sea swimming; you return to the same places and have a different experience every time.

Stuck in the mud

Anna and I set off for an impromptu Saturday afternoon dip, and decided to try downstream of Dartmeet. It was incredibly boggy walking along beside the river, and we were in the middle of a rather interesting conversation about water tables when my left leg suddenly disappeared into the bog, right up to my hip. "Don't move!" cried Anna (as if I could).  "This will make a brilliant picture."  Well thanks dear friend. To be fair she didn't actually realise I was in danger of being completely swallowed up by a Dartmoor mire...but soon did when I started yelling at her to stop taking the picture and rescue me . It took a great deal of pulling to get me out. We gave that location up as a bad job and went to Hexworthy Bridge where the water was smooth and delicious, and more importantly, was only two steps from the car, with no danger of being sucked into bogs.

Spring at Sharrah

I hardly dare say the S word - being more used to Storms and Soakings in recent months. But walking through the woods along the Dart today I saw some primroses which made my heart lift. There were various landslips along the path, but the river glistened below, clear and shiny and green....I guess the rocks and river bed have been scrubbed clean by all the water rushing through. The water moved lazily through Sharrah Pool, making casual tendrils of bubbles on the surface.  As we swam upstream, the cold burnt our limbs, but we got used to it as we fought the current.  I looked up and saw a great crag up ahead, like a castle standing sentinel over the pool.  It's the end buttress of  Bench Tor, but in all the years I've swum in this spot I've never noticed it before.

 

Swimming in the sun at London Bridge

My motto of the moment is 'seize the day'. The weather has been so appalling, with the sea and the rivers so dangerously out of character, that swimming simply hasn't been possible on many days in the last few weeks.  So when, out of nowhere, the sun appeared and the wind dropped, Jackie and I set off for an adventure to London Bridge, a natural rock arch in Torquay.  We changed in unbelievably warm sunshine on the old concrete bathing platform before clambering over the rocks to start our swim on the other side of Saddle Rock.  The water was milky turquoise and the sunlight glittered on the rock faces.  Although at a distance the sea had seemed flat calm there was quite a swell foaming through the Arch...I bounced through without a problem but didn't try and swim through the caves for fear of hitting my head.  As we swam back we chatted away, finding it hard to believe that this was a February afternoon in the middle of some of the worst storms for decades.
Thanks to Jackie for the picture.

Into the wild heart of the Moor

I love the excitement and anticipation of going off to find somewhere new.  I thought I knew about all the pools on Dartmoor but then I read about one I'd never come across before and determined to find it.  It was a miraculously sunny day in between all the storms, and our hike took us further and further into the Moor as the larks sang overhead.   It was such a clear day we could see the rivers and hut circles in the distance marked out like a map.  We followed a path but the final section of the journey involved a compass and a bit of bravery as we struck out across the mire in what we hoped was the right direction.  Soon, like a mirage ahead, we saw a patch of glistening light, and there it was, the Holy Grail of our quest, a beautiful pool on top of the Moor in total and glorious isolation.  

Here comes the seal again

It was a sunny Sunday at Fishcombe Cove in Brixham; the beach was in shade but we swam into the sun at Fishcombe Point.  A hazy rainbow formed above us, one end perched above the Ore Stone in the distance. Then the sun really blasted us; a wonderful feeling as we bobbed around the rocky inlets at the end of the point.  Considering the weather we've had, it was amazing to be swimming in such calm, beautiful sea, with 360 degree interest all round, from Hope's Nose, to the mussel farm, to Churston Cove, and the lighthouse on the end of the Breakwater.  We swam back to Fishcombe Cove, and were about to get out when the cry of "He's behind you!" rang out.  And there was Mr Seal, curious to see what we were all up to.Thanks to Allan for the seal pic.

A bob at Bantham

Catherine and I set off across the great bulge of sand at Bantham, buffetted constantly by the wind, towards the pink boathouse -  the start of our float down the River Avon to the sea.  The sand blew in gusts and Jessie, Catherine's black labrador, ran hither and thither, whipped up by the elements.  The river was a not-very-attractive shade of brown.   But we got in,  and were soon swept along by the outgoing current, in what we affectionately call "the Bantham Whoosh".   However the wind soon started to affect the whoosh factor: it was whistling up the river and we were caught in the cross-fire of wind and current; our faces were whipped by the water and our progress towards the sea slowed.

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).

Wild at Wadham

 Wadham Beach is a remote cove between Noss Mayo and Mothecombe that is popular with naturists in the summer.  No sign of them today though; it was grey and wet, but actually as we started our descent down an alarmingly steep hill to the beach, the skies brightened up and became positively dynamic.  Down through a tunnel through a hedge and we slipped down a muddy path and onto the beach, which has the most beautiful, bold striped rocks and is bristling with rock pools and channels.  We undressed under the cliff and then ran into the grey sea, where we bounced around in the swell.  The silhouette of a cormorant, opening its wings against a shiny steel sky, brought to mind an ancient coat of arms.