An Island Off an Island

Following publication of our last post a friend asked the very pertinent question, had we been for a swim? The answer is yes, though in the interests of accuracy ‘dip’ might be a more appropriate word. Marcus was the trendsetter on a particularly hot afternoon just before Christmas and Ruby and I were waiting for an opportunity to join the Bruny Swimming Club ( though I may be exaggerating Ruby’s enthusiasm).

This week the weather has moved into the 25+ category on a couple of days and we agreed it was time to take the plunge – literally. Our Orange based friend Victoria L hails from Launceston and, as we were leaving, gave us the sage advice not to pussyfoot about and enter the water in stages. Instead in Tasmania you plunge in. Something along the lines of he/she who hesitates is lost. Meanwhile a new Bruny friend assured us that for it to count as a swim you had to do 30 stokes! She has since upped this to 300 so I don’t think she can be counted as reliable.

Anyway on Monday we decided to have a pre-lunch swim. Water temperature 16.9 degrees. I comforted myself in thinking it was warmer than my ‘summer’ dip in Norway or ice swimming in Finland ( thanks Ruth and Pirkko). Sadly we didn’t take Victoria’s advice and we entered in stages – always trust an expert. BUT once we were immersed it was gorgeous – though I did only manage 23 strokes before calling ‘time’. M may have done more. We have subsequently been back twice and I am planning a career as a cold water swimmer.

Meanwhile Ruby (remember her, the Labrador, a so called water breed?) refuses to go in above her armpits, is scared of ‘waves’ ( there are none) , and prefers rock pools. Maybe she’s heard comments about shark bait.

On with the togs.