II've wanted to be an ocean swimmer ever since I moved to Sydney. The idea of getting out through the waves and braving the elements excited me. I would tell anyone who was listening, “As soon as I live closer to the beach, I'll be there. Just wait.”
I've lived within walking distance of the beach for over a year now. During this time I read a lot about swimming in the ocean: how swimmers overcame difficulties or life changing moments. I even listened to a podcast on how to face your fears in the ocean.
But where I excelled in exploration, I was not as skilled in the water.
I started off with vigorous swims in the ocean pools in Malabar and Coogee with a friend who was visiting for the summer. I found a used wetsuit for the colder months (which I was very happy about) and bought new goggles to help me see the fish and algae better.
But then, in what I can only describe as bad luck, I got stung in the face by a jellyfish (still a touchy subject). The traumatic encounter took place during an impromptu walk after work in Clovelly. It was so painful that I still get goosebumps. I also looked ridiculous – period link here.
When I still couldn't bring myself to put my head completely underwater, I decided to return to the safety of the ocean pool. One sunny Sunday afternoon at Wylie Baths I watched the children and staff pick up about 50 blue bottles using extra long kitchen tongs and I really began to doubt the whole idea.
I spent my childhood in various bodies of water. Every school holiday included swimming in the Murrumbidgee River, teeming with brown snakes, or in the Hume Dam until the drought dried it up. While studying, he ran up and down the local swimming pool. When I got older, my parents and their friends, with cars full of children, drove to the Gold Coast for two full days. In the north, where the water was like the sky and the waves were like clouds, I fell in love with the ocean.
But I've since reminded myself, like you, that we don't have to be good at every hobby we choose.
At the time of writing, my ocean swim was probably 20 laps of the pool. I never used this used wetsuit because it made me feel too claustrophobic. Locals called me “brave” after one very cold swim in Coogee when I had to turn back from Wedding Cake Island, a place I'd always dreamed of going to. What a newcomer, they must have thought.
What I lacked in distance, I made up for by establishing an enjoyable daily routine: being able to swim guilt-free only when I felt like it. I'm not passionate enough to join a swim club, so I made solo swimmers and fish swimmers my community. I've swam and squealed alongside huge bluefins, tiny stingrays, silver and striped fish, and even a Port Jackson shark (more of a muffled squeal in this case).
When seawater fills my ears and I'm suffocating, it's the bustle and beauty of the underworld that keeps me distracted and swimming. Although we all go crazy at the top, underwater everything seems pretty simple.
When the tide is too high and crashing, I don't take goggles, and if it's very low and clear, I snorkel instead. Anyway, I prefer scuba diving.
