Next Swims:
Mon-Fri @ 6 am and 5 pm,
Saturday/Sunday @ 8 am and Noon
Last Swim: Sunday @ 8 am
Water Temp: 61
Air Temp: 80s, and climbing
Clarity: Not much
Waves: Not flat, but not much, out of the south
Kru: Patriarch, Northshore Nancy, Cindy, Cindy's friend Michelle, Amanda, Karen, Janneke, Santiago, Lieutentant MJ (fka Mystery Swimmer #2), Lydia the Tatooed Lady, Linda the Lamprey, Showgirl, Panini, Chris, Dragonfly
Shore Support: Friend of Janneke
Why is it that our great oracle, the Atwater Buoy , doesn't lie when it's going to be cold? (This is not the mystery explained.)
Three men were standing around the SE corner of the beach as we arrived. This is Kru territory.
"What are those guys doing on our real estate?' exclaimed Showgirl.
As the Kru descended en force, we naturally took up our rightful places, edging out the would-be usurpers. "It's like those movies where the motorcycle gang roars in and terrorizes the small village," Showgirl commented with some satisfaction.
Grafito: For those who have not been in awhile - the runoff pipe at the south end of the beach is sporting a large, neon grafito of the name of our current U.S. President, in all caps. Oh, and there is another letter of the alphabet preceding this name, along with a dash. I can't believe I still haven't take a photo of it.
So the mystery explained is this, which all you readers out there in bloggerland have been wondering about, and was asked of me today, by one of the newer-bie's (I love how when you have been standing in a spot maybe 10 minutes longer than someone else, you become an authority):
How do you get a nickname?
"Well," I began confidently. "People get to know you....and then they assign one." Then, thinking hard and trying to cover more potentialities, "although there are some that have been self-assigned."
So you see, the mystery is explained. Sort of.
The 61 temperature, especially compared to yesterday's easily 71, was daunting. Some donned westsuits, others approached cautiously in skin.
Once in, not too bad, especially during the speed sprint at the start. Away from the rocks it warmed suddenly to maybe 67. Further still was a warm layer at the top you could sort of skim along in, but at the bottom reach of the stroke would be a layer that was unpleasantly cold. I got to Picnic Bench (now a Staircase) and then to Love Rock. Some chit chat was taking place at Sewer Pipe so I headed over to join, but as I got close, Showgirl hailed me:
"Beware the bad-smelling water!"
So I turned tail just before Sewer Pipe.
As so often happens, the trip back was longer, colder and more arduous. Again, why is that? Could be a northerly current despite the southerly wind, but no way of knowing until Garmin is back up. I swam much faster than I wanted to as I wanted it to be over.
But even a cold swim is such a life-affirming delight. It's like a painting, or a movie with the most stunning cinematography, and not only are you watching it, you are in it, and making it and hearing it (through your ear plugs) and smelling it and heaven knows, tasting it. So even though I wanted it to end, I really didn't want it to end.
I even attempted a few strokes of butterfly. As my stroke technique is emerging, to put it kindly, I try to do these close enough to the end so I don't wear myself out too much to complete the swim....but far enough offshore so that no one calls fire and rescue.
Eat, sleep, swim. That is life as we know it these days.
And today, even continued fellowship with Coffee. Another glimpse into paradise.