A memorable swim in the River Dart, coldest water for years 13 degrees, but a nice warm and sunny day. Bonus was my dear Mum making the trip with Sue and I and she even got down to the beach to see the finish. afterwards we had a few days with Malc and family . The £1.5k or so sponsor money I raised for Malc’s local club was well received and Julie the club secretary asked me to write an article about the swim for their club newsletter. This is reproduced below as it hopefully describes the event as I saw it.
Gosh, it’s hot in this clobber, hope the river is cooler?!
Nobody said it would be Easy!
….and it wasn’t, it was difficult, wet and cold, cold, cold. Now, cold to me is when my wife turns on the air conditioning in the car, but this was different. Yes, I had a wet suit on, along with neoprene hood and socks and ear plugs to stop the freezing water reaching my brain. I even considered wearing Marigold gloves but they were not my colour so I chose not to.
Where was I? Taking part in the annual 10 km swim down the River Dart.
Why? Because I love swimming, having completed a few triathlons and many lengths in a 28 degree indoor swimming pool. Temperature of the River Dart after a week of cold rain pouring onto Dartmoor? 13 degrees!
Did I have to do it ? Yes, I promised my brother Malcolm that I would raise some money for the Torridge Branch of Parkinson’s UK , which I know he enjoys attending, whilst he tries to manage this lousy Parkinson’s disease that he has.
To date my Just Giving Page https://www.justgiving.com/swimthriverdart10k
shows £1275 plus £272.50 in gift aid. I make that £1547.50 plus a hefty lump of cash raised to add to it from the brilliant separate efforts of Malc’s immediate family taking the total well over the £1.6k mark. A huge thanks to everyone who contributed and thereby forced me to do this event and swim further than I have ever done before and in very cold water. The exception was when I was a kid and we only had cold water in the tin bath in front of the fire. OK, I’m not quite that old but you get the picture.
The Outdoor Swimming Society has run this event for several years now and it has grown in popularity like Topsy. There were 1600 swimmers over the two days of 6/7 September this year and I chose the second day when the air temperature was in the 20s and the sun shone all day, but the river temperature was much, much lower as I have already mentioned, just in case you missed it!
There were several colour coded waves of swimmers. I was a red cap being in the medium speed group. There were also yellows who deemed themselves slower, white caps who were faster and the elite blue caps who hardly had time to get wet let alone cold. The fastest finisher ( 1hr 56 mins, but I stand corrected if I misread the results) ) came past me as if he had an outboard motor strapped to his back. He probably did, the speed he was going. I consoled myself by telling the fish swimming lazily below me that he was probably a year or two younger than me.
The swim was an endurance event not a race, so for once in my life I could concentrate on staying alive rather than racing everyone who dares to try and overtake me. At the start we were reminded that it was necessary to acclimatise. So we entered gingerly, opened up the top of our wetsuits to ensure that the freezing R Dart could penetrate every part of our torsos in the hope that the layer of water would warm up and then insulate us. Who thought this up, I ask you!! We then had to stick each ear into the water supposedly to adjust the cold balance on each side of the brain. Personally, all it did to me was to numb my brain right from the start. I did the mandatory two strokes breastroke then into my frontcrawl rhythm. We were advised that after a few strokes we would get used to the cold. It was like telling those building the Burma Railway that they would become train spotters when they got home. In fairness, for a while I did become more comfortable and even started to look at the beautiful countryside as I cruised along with, I might add, a little help from the outgoing tide.
One of these is me!
The organisers had provided a mid stream pontoon at around 4Km so we could stop for a drink and some jelly babies. Nice, I thought that will make a nice break. So, following advice I lined myself up so the tide flow didn’t take me past and prepared to land. I changed to breastroke and immediately had severe cramp in the back of both legs. I was in agony, just like those nights when you wake up screaming with cramp and dance around the bedroom seeking solace only to receive abuse from the wife that you have woken her up!
No sign of jelly babies at the pontoon.
I crashed into the pontoon but was then able to stretch my calves and hamstrings against the barrels used to float the pontoon. The cramp eased. I looked around to see other faces, none with cramp but all happily laughing and supposedly enjoying the experience. The excellent volunteers on-board were handing out drinks but as soon as they reached me they ran out and disappeared to get some more. I had no option, I stole a wee drop from the bottle of the guy next to me and continued on my way. I had missed the jelly babies but I wasn’t going back.
I made up my mind that I would not stop at the next pontoon and I didn’t but by that time I was cold, still cramping and could no longer use my legs to kick. My arms were aching but I had a rhythm and pressed onwards. At about 7Km my hands hit something gooey below me. It was the muddy bottom of the river which at that point widens into the estuary and is infamous for it’s mudbanks which we were swimming over. It became so shallow that at one point I thought I might stand up and run, but nobody else was so I thought it must be against the rules.
Eventually, I made the bend and thought that our destination – the village of Dittisham was in sight. The mind plays strange tricks in the cold and after a never ending struggle I reached the ramp to exit the water. Unfortunately, the tide had receded and we had to negotiate several yards of mud. I tried to stand up, but failed. Swimmers in a variety of coloured hats came running past me yelping with joy at the conclusion of their swim, whilst I crawled on all fours up as far as the concrete ramp. I stood up pleased that cramp hadn’t taken hold again but I had had enough. No hands held high and smiling face for me, just a teeth chattering, body shaking seal like creature slopping from the water’s edge.
Fortunately, we were met by huge crowds cheering us in, including my wife and family. I was immediately met by wonderful volunteers who helped me to the warming tent where a hot chocolate and dry clothes eventually brought me back to life.
No smiles for the camera.
More than just a little help needed!
Did I enjoy the experience? Well, in all honesty, no. However, it was meant to be an endurance event and it certainly was, and at the end I was proud to have completed it in the very reasonable time of 2hrs 48 mins and 23 secs.
I have competed and completed a lot of hard events but this certainly ranks highly amongst such efforts as swimming in a channel relay and climbing Mount Kilimanjaro.
I am extremely grateful to my wife Sue who is always there to help and encourage me when I do these silly things and it was great to have some of my sister’s family along with their friends, including my 90 year old Mum.
My brother was not well enough to make the journey but we spent a few days with him and his family after the swim. There is nothing I can do medically to help Malc and fellow Parkies, but if the money raised can help a bit towards their quality of life, it has all been worthwhile.
Cheque presentation along with my brother Malc.
Nice time spent with family.
As I sat shivering next to a similarly blanket clad lady swimmer in the warming tent, I asked her to make a pact with me that we would never do this again. We shook hands on that agreement!
Now home and warm again…………….what shall I do next year?
After all I am lucky and privileged enough to be in good health.
Carpe Diem.
