Five years ago I found myself running into the sea off Devon on a steely New Year’s Day with a gang of friends, clad in an ill-fitting surfie wetsuit and wearing Marigolds to keep my hands warm. We laughed hysterically as we hit the icy water, swam for a short while and then ran back in, where we warmed up with hot toddies and mince pies.
The swim was the result of an email I’d sent round to various friends a few weeks earlier suggesting a dip to kickstart the new year. There’d been a keen response: far from dismissing it as a madcap notion in the depths of winter, people seemed well up for the idea. Little did I know it, but that impulsive splash was to be the start of something which is now an integral part of my life: regular swims and explorations in Devon’s beautiful wild waters with a growing number of like-minded people.
Back then, our little group decided to get together after our January swim to plan some more. There was a definite feeling that we weren’t making the most of our gorgeous local landscape. Devon is bristling with rivers and lakes, and of course there are miles and miles of coast. There were surely countless stunning swims just waiting to be discovered. And wouldn’t it be great to do them with friends? If we could get organised, a whole host of adventures were there for the taking.
We gathered one evening at my house with a pile of Ordnance Survey maps and pored over them, looking for the patches of blue and examining the coastline in detail. We shared ideas and discussed potential new swimming spots, and came up with a list of swims to put in the diary to do over the following six months. The idea was that instead of continually saying, ‘Oh we must swim there,’ but never actually doing it, we would get around to exploring new swimming places, sharing experiences and really making the most of our aquatic landscape.
We had some amazing adventures in the first few months: we swam at Crazywell Pool, a remote lake on Dartmoor; the Parson and Clerk, a pair of sandstone stacks off Teignmouth; and Thurlestone Rock, a spectacular natural arch off the south Devon coast. Putting swims in the diary really worked; we visited lots of new places and really started to look forward to our regular meets; we even jokingly started to call ourselves the South Devon Wild Swimming Club.
Then Facebook came along, and my swimming circle widened; I started to meet more swimmers through the Devon Wild Swimming page. There’s now a swim going on somewhere just about every week, and I’ve met some lovely, hilarious and creative people. You can turn up to a swim, and meet the most varied bunch, young and old. They come from all backgrounds: one is a paramedic, one an auditor, another an artist or an IT bod. They’re united by their passion for swimming outdoors – and eating cake afterwards.
I don’t know what it is about life down here – maybe it’s something in the water – but we also have a bit of a tendency to do wacky things. We “invaded” Nowhere Island – a manmade landmass that toured the south-west as part of the Cultural Olympiad. It was anchored a few hundred yards off Torquay and Plymouth, and groups of us swam out to it and clambered on board, where we did a victory salute. We then dived off and swam back to dry land, but not before leaving a rubber duck as our calling card.
While the Olympic torch was being carried over the Tamar Bridge between Cornwall and Devon, we were swimming across the river underneath. And on Midsummer’s Night a group swam in the twilight in the river Dart, festooned with greenery and adorned with floral headdresses. At the same time we had a somewhat less than romantic brush with the local constabulary (they were out trying to find an illegal rave; for some reason they thought we might be involved). When the Great Gatsby film came out this summer we had a dawn “Gatsby swim”, with everyone dressing the part. We regularly attempt moonlight swims – but are usually defeated by the great British weather.
We are making new traditions; in the last few years we’ve had regular “Santa swims” around Burgh Island (attired in Santa gear, natch), “Solstice swims” in magical glades on the river Dart and “Fireworks swims” during the annual British Firework Championships at Plymouth Hoe.
We have such fun, and great friendships have been formed, often between people who wouldn’t necessarily get together in other circumstances. It’s obviously to do with having a common passion; sharing that love of being in the water. But it’s also to do with looking after each other, which you have to do when swimming together. That creates strong bonds.
I think it’s also to do with our inspirational landscape. When you are swimming together in a beautiful place, you share moments of sheer joy; a very special thing which doesn’t happen much in everyday life. A few weeks ago, for example, on a dawn swim, we stood together and watched the sun rise; the sky was a kaleidoscope of pink and orange. The sea was bathed in a rosy blush; we dropped in and swam in and out of caves that were lit up by the early morning sun. You build up a shared memory bank when you swim together regularly – and what special memories they are.
Five years on from that cold January day when I invited my friends to join me in a midwinter dip, I’m swimming more than ever, and have had incredible adventures in the sea, rivers and lakes around Devon, discovering a host of new places including caves, lagoons, waterfalls, rock arches, coves and estuaries. Next 1 January, I will again be “swimming in” the New Year with friends – though not, I hasten to add, wearing washing-up gloves.
• Sophie Pierce is the co-author of a new swimming guide called Beyond the Beach: The Secret Wild Swims of Torbay.
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