Between the thunder and the rain and the lights on at noon, it’s clear winter is coming on fast. Like the last of the autumn leaves on the trees, everything falls off from here.
Still, the unpredictability of October means there’s a window of opportunity left if you want to take it.
Our Saturday morning cycle with the Cobh Triathlon Club was cancelled given the already predicted wind and rain. It wouldn’t be much fun on the road. We might have got out okay, but it could have been carnage on the way home.
Instead that prompted a morning walk around the far side of the great island into Marlogue woods and back along the strand. After passing Cuskinny there’s the sheltered cove where the Cobh open water swimmers meet daily.
At high tide there’s always a few heads bobbing around, and it was already looking choppy and rough with the afternoon storm brewing.
You can see and feel the energy from the regulars, it’s as much about the camaraderie, the chats and the laughs as it is getting into the cold water
I was thinking ahead to Sunday morning and the fundraising swim planned for Whitepoint, on the other side of town. I was planning to support the event on the stand-up paddleboard, only the rough seas made me think maybe I would be joining the swim after all.
In recent times I’ve been escaping the cold water, staying dry atop the paddleboard, weaving among the year-round swimmers. Sometimes I will just drive by at high tide to see if anyone is in the water, all rugged up in a puffer jacket and woolly hat just going for a curious look, not tempted at all to jump in.
Sunday’s swim was organised by the Whitepoint swimmers to raise awareness and funds for the restoration of what is locally known as the American Pier. It’s a protected area on the west side of Cobh, just down from the berth where enormous cruise liners deftly turn around and tie up throughout the summer, that season now coming to a close also.
Many Cobh people have childhood memories of jumping into the sea at Whitepoint from the ageing pier. Few are likely aware of the historical significance of the pier, as it now appears to be the only physical reminder of a time during the first World War when US navy ships would berth in the harbour.
They used the pier as their access point for injured soldiers coming to the temporary US hospital set up in Whitepoint. The US navy also took over a large house and had temporary huts set up along the shoreline to treat and accommodate the ill and injured soldiers.
A group of local residents and stakeholders have set up the web page to share the story and also initiate a drive to restore the pier and maintain the safe swimming spot at Whitepoint Strand. It is a special spot, where you can swim as large ships pass by under the watchful eye of the Irish Naval Service just across the way at Haulbowline Island.
It’s amazing what a little challenge can do for you. With the predicted wind and rain it was looking like I would be in the water rather than on it. Even if I tried to be on the paddleboard I would most likely end up in the water.
I knew the rules: no wetsuit, just pure wild swimming from the slipway to the orange buoy, around two yellow cans and back to the pier, 400m in all and about eight minutes in the cold sea.
When you are not used to it, this becomes a challenge; only when the mind is made up no challenge is too big.
Unlike running, where you can just lace up the shoes and head out the door, there is no limit to all you need to bring to an ocean swim to dress quickly and warm up after.
The excitement and buzz around the place was enough; I wanted in. Little did I know I was going to find out why there are so many groups of wild swimmers who meet up daily year round, chasing endorphins similar to running which set you up for the day.
As well-illustrated in the book I Found My Tribe, by Ruth Fitzmaurice, it’s one of those things once you try you begin to understand. You can see and feel the energy from the regulars, it’s as much about the camaraderie, the chats and the laughs as it is getting into the cold water.
Maybe something in the cold water opens up the soul, the connection is as pure and simple as the activity itself.
As the air temperatures drop, you find it’s warmer in the water than out. At least that’s what I was telling myself when I woke up early, still dark outside, my swimsuit at the end of the bed. The mind was made up, no turning back now.
Outside the window, the sky was already red, the imminent sunrise; the calm before the storm. I could warm up on the way and join the swim just after 9am.
It may not be a daily thing for me just yet, still the temptation is there to test the waters at least once each month throughout the winter
Neoprene booties and gloves were the only luxury as I waded into the sea. It didn’t feel too much of a shock, I knew that was coming when totally immersed.
One man and his dog were already swimming towards the buoy as I was doing my little countdown. Three, two, one… now the shock was definitely there due to my lack of daily acclimatisation.
There is that pleasure to it too, your breath taken away with the first few breast strokes required to get going, then calm and relaxed breathing, required in swimming at any time and once you find it there is nothing better.
That’s the benefit of cold-water swimming year round – the experience where you shock the system and take your breath away. In general, we all operate within our comfort zones, never experience any shock to the system, like a jolt of adrenaline that you get when you plunge into cold water.
We shy away from some pain and hardship when it’s what we should be craving, at least once every day, to reset the energy systems in our body.
It may not be a daily thing for me just yet, still the temptation is there to test the waters at least once each month throughout the winter.
For more see: americanpiercobh.com
