Adventures in the Sea

I have been swimming for Henley Beach Masters for 12 years now, and have been through some exciting times in the water.

Initially my passion was for open water swimming, and I was keen to keep the form going. I would concentrate on a routine of maybe six points. Once I forgot to look where I was going for about a kilometre and was unknowingly taken in a current to about 900 metres offshore.

Imagine my disbelief when I spotted Grange Jetty as a tiny dot under my right arm. Within a few seconds I figured out that I was in a current of unknown quantity. I felt ok, there was no question of being exhausted. I set a course across the current to gauge its speed, which turned out to be manageable.

I swam in, somewhat embarrassed, to the other swimmers, concerned, pissed off, laughing and waiting for me. My friend Roy had come out to save me, tried to catch up, but I was on too much of a roll.

From the shore I appeared to stop and start to swim in the opposite direction. People thought I was delirious, but I was ok.

I figured out that if you push yourself past your comfort zone, endorphins kick in and make it all bearable. I like this state because swimming is easier and what I’m thinking seems more profound.

It took me a few years to learn to swim in a straight line. Henley to Grange is about currents. They tend to go off shore but there is a strong current that flows in a gully alongside the shore when the tide is high enough. It starts near the Grange Sailing Club. Some of the locals call this area Carnoostie. Also around the sailing club is the beginning of the offshore current that took me out to sea. You can tell when you’ve entered the area of a current because the seabed suddenly drops and you can see lots of exposed shells. The sand no longer runs parallel to the shore and looks compacted with little bumps. 

In the first 2 years I would swim in morning, and totally exhausted, would sleep in the afternoon. Open water swimming is more fun if you are fit and know how to read the sea. The best time I did H to G was at 5.40 on a Friday afternoon. There was an onshore breeze, the current was fast, and Roy and I did it in 20 minutes! Alright, maybe 21! This was Grant Hacket pace, and Nirvana.

Roy and I joined Henley Surf Lifesaving Club, and had learned to read the sea. I knew where the fast water was, and used Uncle Fartlett’s theory of speed. i.e. sprint for 10 seconds, and recover for a minute. This meant taking on the breaking waves, taking 6 strokes without a breath, and recovering in the troughs. Huge amounts of fun, with the waves hitting the feet first, prompting surges and Fartletts.

Once, swimming H to G in the late afternoon, I had another moment of disbelief when I met Battlestar Galactica. I was sure that my groin and legs were going to cop it. Thank god for survival reflexes. I stopped in a nano-second. Isn’t water great in that we can stop instantly, avoiding head on collisions? In amazement I expected/visualised a manta ray in front of me. I was in 3 metres of water and back pedalling. I focussed on the sting of a stingray directly in front of my intended path. This sting was a few times the size of a biro, the ray about the size of a double bed. There was a message here. We spoke the universal language and I respectfully retreated stage left. Our stingray escorted me for a few metres, then remained behind as I continued to the shore. I ran along the beach for a while. My desire to get back in the water had gone awol and I met Roy at Grange.

I told everybody in the club about my encounter, and we swam in shallow water from then on. The ray was one of 2 we had seen regularly between H and G. I used to wear a dark blue sun suit and may have looked like a competitor for our ray’s mate. Maybe I was just encroaching on his territory. 

We had a young dolphin swim with us for a few years. It would swim in and around our group, then follow us back as we walked along the beach.

Another dolphin would tease the surf lifesavers at Henley, lying on the bottom then coming up to nudge a surf -ski. They have a really strong smell of fish about them (dolphin farts?). 

Open water swimming is an adventure. There’s a jungle out there, and we must be respectful of those whose environment we pass through. For me it’s a risk, requiring bravery, and passion, but well worth the effort!  I recommend swimming in about a metre of water at Henley, the first 20 centimetres are for the crabs and skates that reside on the bottom. I once did a back flip when a puffer-fish I buffeted took offence and went for my eyes. It probably swam away laughing. Actually when I was 10, I chased pufferfish with a trident. Maybe they have a genetic memory and they are getting their own back, those little ratbags!. 

All this might sound a bit scarey to you, but I have never seen any sharks and believe that sharks have received a lot of unwarranted bad press.

In Adelaide we are exceptionally lucky to have brilliant beaches and weather. It is a great lifestyle to join 100+ swimmers at 9.00 in the morning for a 2 km swim. There are 10 open water swims during the season, and about 350 swimmers who participate. We go to a pub or surf club for presentations. It's hard to keep a smile of your face!

That's what I like!