Picture from Plymouth Historical Heritage
This water colour was painted by Queen Victoria whilst moored in Plymouth Sound on the Royal Yacht.
Drakes Island appears in lots of my blogs.
My guess is that she was anchored just to the left of the orange buoy that you can see in the distance of this photograph.
I wonder if she felt the urge to stop painting and slip into the silky waters of Tranquility Bay. She could have been a Bobber
What’s the bravest thing you’ve ever done when no one was watching?
I don’t believe I have ever done anything remotely brave. Witnessed or not. Were I to contemplate bravery I think I would choose to do it with no one watching in case I failed or misread the situation and bravery was not required. I am also someone who immediately devalues something if I achieve it. So if I was both brave and successful. I would immediately recalibrate the situation to one that required no courage at all.
5 years ago I would have considered swimming in the sea in England in December as the action of someone who was either brave or daft
After 5 years of doing it I know that cold sea swimming is a pretty daft hobby . Definitely on the lower end of the Brave/ Daft spectrum.
I know my place and am brave enough to say that daft is where I sit most comfortably.
Farewell August, you have been particularly fine this year. August is never one of my favourite months, nor is it one I actively dislike. It is the bringer of shorter days and unpredictable weather. I will never be a fan of shorter days, but after a summer of heatwaves from May onwards, the unpredictable nature of August has been delightful. Two days running we have been dodging really heavy rainfall . Which is pretty normal for late August. Usually it is a little dispiriting, but compared to the baking days of most of our summer, the rain felt like a welcome and quirky distraction.
During August and the heatwaves, Lola and I have developed an early morning routine of walking to the seafront most mornings. The timing being the difference in our routine rather than the destination. Late August’s slightly cooler weather brought a new changed routine. The timing was less heat specific but I would take breakfast with us and we would settle in one of the alcoves overlooking the sea.
Lola, in camouflaged comfort, waiting while I have a swim, write a blog or just take in the views before we both tuck into breakfast before heading for home.
Going forward I wonder if we might stick to this rather lovely breakfast, blog and solo bob habit.
Thank you August.
Share a hobby you’ve picked up recently — what got you into it?
Not just me and not just the Bobbers. A little moment of skinny dipping in Firestone Bay under a full moon.
Although with full disclosure I had to paint the Sturgeon moon and add it to the image afterwards, because the sky was densely greige with clouds.
The three swimming bays were alive last night with the happy chatter of swimmers who had discarded swimwear, and their allies who swam alongside wearing textiles.
A Full Moonie is all about swimming at night under the full moon even if the moon fails to turn up.
What got us into it?
Just one bobbers 60th Birthday Bucket List, earlier in the year.
Who knows if we will keep it up through the winter. Nothing is impossible with the Bobbers but I suspect nudity might be very brief in the winter months ,no matter how hardy we believe we are.
The swim was silkily warm and thoroughly enjoyable. As ever the after-bob chatter was free flowing and wildly multi-faceted.
@theoldmortuary had spent the day working in the yard. Just a small amount of painting left to do before winter. But having painted the moon for the bobbers it would be a waste not to see it over a nearly finished yard.
If only our still green tomatoes could be so easily faked.
Five heatwaves and not a single red tomato yet.
But with a multi-purpose Sturgeon Moon even a ripe tomato is possible.
Following on from yesterday’s blog ⬇️
#1286 theoldmortuary ponders.
Artistic Interpretation and Artificial Intelligence. A.I two ways.
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.
What we saw through our specs but couldn’t photograph. © Plymouth Post.
Novelty picture of the night.
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.
#1256 theoldmortuary ponders.
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.
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.
theoldmortuary.design 