10 bobbers bobbed together for the whole of this evening’s dramatic eclipse.
Proper protective specs were worn on land and at sea. The colander was not so useful in the wet phase of the bob. It was a really special evening, beautiful colours as the eclipse developed. Sobering that none of us will be alive when the West Country see’s the next eclipse of such significance, in more than 70 years time. But that is for the future, for now we have the happiness, on repeat, of gathering together regularly and on special occasions, talking too much , swimming a bit, eating cake and enjoying life.
I went to a friend’s house earlier this week to assist her with picture placement in her house. I did the same thing a couple of years ago but no progress has been made at all. She is a talented photographer and has a good eye for artwork but is framing and hanging averse. Not an unusual problem .
We have had a week of domestic admin due to the loss of important documents. All found now but I also found our own unframed gallery of shame. See above.
I think in total there are 6 pictures to be framed, a mind blowing amount . But not as mind blowing as my friend’s gallery of unhung images. No wonder there was no progress in 2 years!
I took myself off to one of those out of town mega shop warehouses/ to choose some frames. I am always overwhelmed by big superstores in England. Let me out and about in one abroad and I am stupidly happy.
Such a bad idea… Oh the progress of the merchandising year. Summer products all in the reduced area, and looking very depleted. Halloween and Christmas all stocked up and ready to go. Love and extreme dislike all in the one place. Halloween, my particular bête noir is rebranded in this house as an autumnal festival. Pumpkins all the way! Frames are not seasonal, thank goodness I put on blinkers, focussed on my task and got out. I do have to return next week for two more frames but I know which areas to avoid.
A restorative swim with calm companions eased my overstimulated mind.
Summer is most definitely still with us.
And now to procrastinate less and get on with the framing. Or the planning of a framing session…
My first swim this summer in the rain. Launching from the prettiest of steps. I’ve been swimming very regularly for five years and not once in those 5 years have I got to the first week of August without swimming in a fair amount of summer rain.
By pure coincidence the July weather stats for Devon in 2026 were published this morning. July in Devon has been the driest for 190 years, when records began.
Rain of any sort complicates the dressing process after a sea swim. The combination of sea water,rain and any residual potions on skin make for an awkwardly sticky drying and dressing process. Even when you think you are adequately dry, clothes do not slip on easily. Skin becomes resistant, like trying to dress a velvet teddy with the nap running in the opposite direction . Vests and t-shirts get caught up. Trousers or leggings refuse to pull up with any speed.
Thank goodness there was no rain on our recent Full Moonie.
6 happily naked women swimming at dusk from the single file steps.
A random man decides to sit down where all our clothes were stored. He claimed to be looking for his girlfriend, pulled out alcohol and a cigarette and proceeded to just sit there. Completely failing to read the non room. We for the most part just grabbed our clothes or pulled them on quickly. Something we could not have done if it was raining. But then he may not have been quite so keen to sit there looking for his missing girlfriend in a rainstorm.
If she had any sense whatsoever she should stay hidden for the foreseeable future.Not the behaviour of a gentleman.
Last night the bobbers celebrated their first Full Moonie. A naked swim at high-tide under a full moon, from a favourite, more secluded bay between two very busy bays.
Full Moonie
I had to shift the moon a bit, in the picture above, to line it up with the bobbers but it was magnificent.
And just like that one women’s bucket list tick for her 60th birthday becomes a regular monthly habit for the intrepid bobbers.
What’s a promise you made to yourself that you’ve actually kept?
8 summery bobbers met yesterday for our regular weekly swim. About half of the number of registered bobbers who turn out at Firestone Bay in all weathers to swim, chat and eat cake.
If there was anything positive to come out of the Covid era this group of acquired aquatic friends is my favourite thing.
There is nothing good about my swimming. I am not fast, strong or stylish. But during the Covid years I learnt that being in the sea, bobbing about was something that I loved doing.
Before the Covid era I was not someone who made promises to myself. I was fortunate, a boomer, a post-war child born into an optimistic era. Too young to understand the threats of the Cold war. Covid was the first time I felt threatened in a way that was beyond the control of myself, society or the world. I promised myself I would keep swimming with the bobbers and keep writing a daily blog.
Faced with a Global Pandemic those were the only two intentions I had to battle an invisible enemy. Written down that looks quite pathetic. Also as promises go they are hardly earth shattering.
But history will probably call us the Covid Generation. The big stuff will be researched and discussed at conferences and academic institutions. But the little stuff is what we all had to do to get through.I do little stuff.
5 years ago we were just emerging from Covid restrictions. We attended a wedding. The blog I wrote on that day is below.
My promises to myself may well be a bit inconsequential but so far I have stuck with them and that is good enough for now.
Reflecting on this I realise there were two pivotal moments that made both blogging and swimming both possible and promisable.
In early Covid I was recalled back to work in London. At the time I was living in Cornwall. Even in normal times that would be a near impossible commute. Had that happened there would be no sea swimming.
In early 2020 I had been accepted to train as a theatre critic, barely had the email landed when Covid arrived stamping its big gnarly foot on training or aspiration of any sort. Had the Theatre Critic thing happened there would be no blogging.
My tiny promises were created by a massive global crisis.
Sad news from our iddylic swimming/ bobbing spot. Over the weekend a local woman died from a heat related medical event at Tranquility Bay. Flowers from the swimming community absolutely reflect the vibrancy of the people who regularly swim here and who will be feeling her loss.
Heatwaves in England do funny things. When we planned our yard to look tropical we never expected it to be tropical. But here it is July 2026 requiring not one, but two sunshades. And for it to be unusable at some parts of the day.
Yesterday we had our warmest ever bob, the sea temperature was over 19 degrees in Tranquility Bay. For the first time ever, Ice cream was the post bob refreshment.
Earlier in the week a trip to the library has an unexpected twist.
A near naked man decided to expose himself to me. Really quite unnecessary and not what anyone needs to see on the way to the library or anywhere for that matter.
Gardening, Gig Rowing, Yardening, Gig Rowing. Saturday was the second day of the European Gig Racing Championships in Plymouth Sound. It was also Gardening Saturday at the Tennis Club I help to run. We could look up from our garden chores and watch gigs racing past our club.
While listening to classical guitar, from Walter who had swapped out his secateurs for something more beautiful.
The afternoon was Yardening time. Not by any stretch as exciting or colourful as the morning session. Some white wall painting and repotting of plants. But the entertainment was the same. This time watching the Gig racing on TV as we sought refuge from the sun.
The drone shots showing us what we know already.
That our tiny corner of Devon/Cornwall is rather lovely.
For regular readers and Bobbers, our normal bobbing area was one of the regular spots where race progression was filmed
Tranquility Bay.Bobbers Steps behind the gigs.
I never managed to catch the tennis club on TV. That would have been a great drone shot especially as the gardens were freshly primped. A project for tomorrow.
Bobbing and bobbers are a regular feature of this blog. Less than 10% of the blogs get a mention because they follow more or less the same structure every time. This is a blog that celebrates the everyday mundanity of life by finding nuggets to ponder. But even I know the detrimental effect of pondering the same nugget too often.
However last night’s bob was special we were all naked.
Sarah, in the middle of this group wanted to walk naked into the sea for her 60th Birthday. It would have been unbobber-like to let her do it alone. Tide and time were perfect yesterday evening.
What a fabulous experience, more laughs and a birthday wish completed.
Heatwaves certainly focus the mind. Chores, domestica and essential tasks are done as early in the mornings, as soon as they can be achieved.
Our little corner of the world had a reprieve yesterday . A sea mist shrouded us in greige for the first couple of hours.
Postcard from the Edge
The greige stayed with us until midday but the temperature gradually rose until we were fully in the hot zone. The Bobbers had a Friday date with a high tide. No more freezing our tits off (twice) as we did on the longest day only 5 days before.
4pm yesterday, after 3 days of an official heatwave, we hit peak pleasure at our watery home.
We do not swim in the tropical waters of Plymouth Hoe West. We swim west of there. There is a commercial port between us and the Tropic of West Hoe.
At the time we were not aware that we were being so short changed by the Sea Temperature Mermaid Goddess.
But really the Bobbers were not the big story of the day. Bobbers bob together for safety. The delightful and multi-faceted friendships are a perfect and wonderful side effect. Safety is enhanced by Coach Andy.
Wet legs for Coach on Solstice Sunday
Coach keeps an eye on our stuff and on us. He has had a really big week bobbingwise, not only did he join us in the water for the Solstice. Only to mid thigh, you have to keep special equipment dry, his phone. Thank goodness for phone probity, yesterday his phone was used for its first ever call to the coastguards.
A passing, off duty, coastguard saw some paddle boarders, perhaps in trouble, being taken beyond the island. But he was not prepared for sea based drama, he had forgotten his phone. Luckily Coach has his phone in pocket and for the first time it was used for dramatic and safety reasons. Completely unbobber related.
theoldmortuary.design 