High Tide 03:37 (2.40m)
Low Tide 09:17 (0.80m)
High Tide 15:36 (2.60m)
Low Tide 22:09 (0.50m)
Sea temperature: not taken today but 18 degrees three days ago
Sea conditions: strong waves bashing the shoreline, then a calm deep bit, then big waves with a scary undertoad
Weather: very warm, sunny at 6 but it had started to become very dense in the air as we arrived at the beach and he sky had totally thickened, obscuring the sun by 8
Joined by: The Usual Suspects (apart from TBC)
Topics of conversation: It was the first time many of us have swum together for a while, DK was way in France, The Artist has been on a course, then The Pirate was in Wales and I was in Gloucestershire. I don't swim with the team as regularly these days (hence a less frequent blogging - there's not as much conversation when I'm on my own) and seldom on a Friday as I am usually on the early shift. This week is upside down though, so I'm WFH on The Architect's website today. It was lovely to see everyone, including The Artist, who didn't fancy braving the first layer of waves. She still got wet though.
The Pirate shared an anecdote with me this morning, which the others had heard, and is apposite to this blog:
He and his wife have been on their holidays, it seem the main objective seems to have been to try out their new glamour tent before WOMAD, and one of their stop overs was Holwell in Wales. The town takes its name from a holy well (St. Winefred's well) and has some status on the pilgrimage map as a result. The Pirate was missing his morning swims and so, being a man of few inhibitions, struggled into his Speedos in the little tents provided for those brave enough and made his way to the edge of the well with The Pirate's Wife attempting to disown him.
The well was surrounded by tourists and pilgrims and earlier they had identified a group as being three generations of one family who were speaking a language they didn't understand - he assumed they were northern European and as he approached they all went silent. The Pirate needs the support of a stick to walk and getting in and out of water can be precarious, be he managed and found it to be the perfect way to cool off, relax and in his own way, to pay his respects. Refreshed he clambered out of the water to a still hushed audience, until the oldest of the family showed that they were actually Irish travellers who had been speaking gaelic, but she switched to English and said, crestfallen "oh, it didn't work then...".