Just 3 bobbers , braved a bouncy sea yesterday. 15 degrees in the water and 10 degrees out, made for an enjoyable swim but a very chilly chattering session afterwards. I was unintentionally glam having showered and washed my hair just before the bob.
Glam or not it is not every day that we get to swim with a submarine.
Some people travel thousands of miles to swim with dolphins. Swimming with submarines has less of a cache, but in 2025 we have had both experiences in our little bay.
NRP Tridente
The Portuguese submarine was much easier to catch on camera. No need for arrows to point out the dark shape in this photograph.
No late blogging today. Obviously for regular readers there is a clue to the repetitive nature of today’s blog. But as so often happens a ponder has emerged from the repetition that takes me off in an unexpected direction. There was a small pod of dolphins sleeping in the bay, roughly where the sea changes colour. Every now and then a dolphin broke the surface of the water. Sunshine and water, why wouldn’t I share the news with all my swimming friends. I put this image on our Bobbers Whatsapp group. A bobber then replied with this image, of where she is currently dipping her toes.
What an uplifting pair of pictures. A visual call and response.
The minute I typed, call and response I thought I should check my thinking.
This kind of visual call and response happens a lot on the Bobbers WhatsApp group. Tranquility Bay is our ‘home’ but if a bobber dips into other waters and gets a great photo then a picture pops up for everyone to enjoy. Nearly always with a comment that a swim at Tranquillity Bay will be much appreciated when the bobber returns from their glossy holiday bobbing.
Funny that I would use a shanty term to describe photographs of the sea. It must be the ebb and flow, the rhythm of flisvos*
Meanwhile the sun is rising and I must be up and about and printing.
Bright October sun gave me this image yesterday. It was a day for walking and enjoying good weather. The rust coloured scratches on the paving slab caught my eye as the orange leaf briefly landed at my feet. I had no idea until later that the shadow had formed such a perfect leaf shape. Nature and sun accompanied me on my coastal meanderings.
The sea was in a very calm mood, so much so that I was tempted to go for a solo swim despite having a 6pm one booked with the bobbers. Waiting was the right idea. We were not alone in the bay, a small choir of women had gathered on the beach. As we swam they sang. Strange unknown sounds filled the cove. The incoming tide pushed them closer and closer to the small cliffs that surround our swimming area. If this had been a summer or winter solstice we might have anticipated such an unusual experience. Even the pragmatic bobbers crack out a candle or two for special swims. No merfolk were summoned while we were swimming. A fat seal snacked on a big fish. We probably stayed in the water a little too long, but unexplained singing to the sea is not our usual experience of the Wednesday evening bob. The moment was quite cinematic . The singing was not exactly joyful, New-age , part chant, part song; soaring notes with harmony and discordance woven together. There was a lot of hugging. We clambered out as their last notes filled the air. Hot drinks were needed by both groups of women. The magic , or moment, broken by the need to warm up, and for the bobbers to chatter about their mid-week lives. Chocolate may have been involved.
The evening dog walk fueled by a left over bobbing chocolate.
P.s This blog was deliberately written before I have had the chance to email one of the singers to ask what they were doing.
After the bob we learned that one of our Bobbers’ mothers had died the previous day, I wish she could have been with us last night, as a singer she would have appreciated what ever it was we experienced.
There is nothing set to excite the bobbers than a colour chart and samples of Hoodies for the winter bobbing season. Even in a very dull patch of an English summer the thought of snuggly jumpers in January fires the imagination.
Tranquility Bay was anything but tranquil as we made decisions about the sartorial style of Winter 23/24. We don’t even have to agree on a colour as the only common denominator is the word ‘Bobbers’ on the back. But 74 colours, 2 styles and 15 humans is a heady mix of indecision. Particularly when the endorphins and positive ions of a good cold water dip make us all a bit giddy at the best of times.
Yesterday was a Bobbers birthday. Bobber Birthdays have evolved over the more than two years that we have been swimming as a group year round.
Inexplicably, the Bobber whose birthday it was, opted for a spa day rather than joining us at Tranquility Bay. Maybe the message above informed that decision. She missed out on a lot. A warship arrived to give her a sail past and there were the usual cakes and hot drinks. Because she was missing out on her birthday dip we called her and sang happy birthday down the phone. That mellifluous sound must have torn through the tranquility of the spa like a wax strip on lady parts
At Tranquility Bay though it was sung with enthusiasm and affection for an absent friend. The singing took our minds off chilly fingers and toes and inadequately dried crevices. What even is a Spa Day?
We have entered the twilight zone of bobbing. Tide times and light are now the two main factors that control when we plan a bob. 4 pm was particularly kind to us yesterday. The water was a balmy 10 degrees and the outside temperature was 6. My personal dip was brief but effective. I think it took longer to drink my restorative cup of tea than my actual immersion time. Over tea the chat turned to Christmas Day. It has taken two years of Covid affected Christmases to establish a new tradition. A brief dip on Christmas morning with the ‘bobbers’ before we plunge headlong into whatever we would normally do with families and friends over the festive season. I can’t even remember what the restrictions were for Christmas 2020. I think we kept big distances between our ‘bubbles’ * and shouted happily to one another, marvelling at the madness of new friendships and the urge to swim in the sea in winter, when many of us had lived locally for many years and not bothered to swim much at all until a pandemic hit. 2021 we were cautiously closer to one another, wary of passing on Omicron but sharing individually wrapped snacks of chocolate and Christmas snacks, while we damply struggled into dry clothes. 2022 is likely to be giddy, there will be bubbles and huggles and maybe kisses on chilly cheeks. Thank goodness for Bubbles! In the spirit of Advent +2022 here is a previously unseen picture of bubbles over our swimming zone.
* Bubbles were legally acceptable indoor gatherings of no more than 6 adults during the lockdowns of 2020. This rule applied to everyone unless you were serving in the Conservative government who set the rules.For them bubbles were what they always were, a pleasant fizzy drink to be enjoyed while working, partying or indeed groping colleagues in the corridors of power.
This boiling sea was the setting of our final October swim. Storm Claidio was on the way. Looking over the wall into the swirling sea it would have been very easy to turn around and walk back home. But I had already waved to the swimmers in the water. Getting in, was tricky. Being in, was thrilling. Getting out, was a relief. A mug of tea and a Tunnocks Waifer biscuit was the reward.
After the event it was most definitely the most wonderful swim. The turmoil of the water made effective swimming impossible at my, rather low, skill level. Even bobbing about and talking was quite a challenge but the whole experience was fizzy, energising and a great way to see out October, still without a wetsuit. The picture below is a full-colour image of the water as we got out, not a spot of colour to be seen.
Only our second plunge into cold seas during October 2022. Since beginning year-round swimming in 2020 we have swum, or bobbed as we call it, at least twice a week. We have gathered a merry band of bobbers around us. October 2022 took us to London for the birth of a grandchild, a fine reason to give up bobbing for a while. In the planning stage we thought we would be taking trips to the Ladies Pond at Hampstead. The reality was that I read a good book about the ponds and stayed as dry as a bone.
Today’s ‘bob’ was fabulous at a water temperature of 14 degrees and bright sunshine. Strangely in 14 degrees there were two incidents of Jellyfish stings, not what anyone expects in chilly waters.
There were many bobbers gathered at Tranquility Bay.
Slightly bittersweet as we start a long goodbye to a bobber who is moving to West Sussex next week, there will be tears and laughter over the next week. There will almost certainly be cake and bubbles too.
At this time of year passers-by always ask us “How do you get into water when it is that cold?”Later in the year they just tell us we are mad. A chance to use my favourite Latin quote.
Not exactly as it is philosophically intended but a pragmatic answer never-the-less.
And so after 10 days of Royalty, but not Royalist-tinged blogs I bring the blog gently back to randomness and repetition. This morning Tranquility Bay was exactly that, tranquil. Hugo set about clearing the bay of floating seaweed, Lola ingratiated herself with a very impressed toddler and I talked about local cockerel activity with friendly neighbours, one of whom I have never met before. It was as if the last ten days had never happened. September days with gorgeous sunshine are just so blissful. Nothing more needs to be said.
A heatwave is a funny thing in this part of England, we are used to gentle weather with most sorts of weather,apart from rain, served in moderation. The weather of the last few weeks has been the sort of weather we fly around the world for under normal circumstances.
Normal English Summer = Lets go to Greece in September.
And so, we adopt Greekish habits at the weekend, early rising to do dog walks, shopping and chores. Swimming when the tides are right. Somehow that frees up time for book reading in the cool of the house while avoiding midday heat. This luxury of ‘found’ time has enabled me to finish reading a fantastic tale of pirates set on the Kent coast. I can hugely recommend this book.
The illustration by Rafaela Romaya has been my bedtime companion for a couple of weeks.
I’ve been doing a little bit of digital fooling around to create an image of Bobbers enjoying Tranquility Bay in this great weather.
It wasn’t such a great leap to have them swimming in the shadow of Pirate Ships.
Or even enjoying a game of modified water polo. And that is the kind of madness that comes from hotter weather than normal on an English person
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