lifestyle
Swimming
I
SOUL
t’s a sunny June day on the Tasman Peninsula when I come off Three Capes Track feeling warm to the core after my morning hike. There’s barely a breeze but the sea percussively plays the pebbly shore of Fortescue Bay and, further along, pounds the sand. I quietly peel away from my group, strip to my merino underwear and hit the frigid waves for an invigorating 10-minute dip and dive before a rewarding sun-bask. Fast forward a month to a windy, overcast, six-degree July morning when I join the Weedy Seadragons for their regular Saturday social ocean swim. Or, at least, that’s the plan. Driving at dawn towards Kingston in the traditional homeland of the Muwinina, I’m nagged by the thought that a scheduled cold-water winter experience is really not my modus operandi. Even before 8am on a Saturday, Kingston Beach is bustling but the Weedies are unmissable. A group of about 25 adults,
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JOURNEYS // OCT / NOV 2021
wearing wetsuits and full-length fleece-lined parkas over swimming skins, collectively buzz with the frenetic energy of people fighting the elements and sharing a challenge. I’m warmly welcomed in the bracing wind. Spokesperson Harald Gatenby tells me the Weedies swim all year-round. Early in the pandemic, when aquatic centres closed, even more people got hooked on ocean swimming and joined them. They get a bigger summer turnout of their 150-plus members and occasionally instigate a swim to Blackmans Bay for those up for some scenic distance. As Harald talks and I get colder, my window of opportunity to submerge closes, yet I’m quietly relieved. Swimmers who’ve been freestyling parallel to shore for more than half an hour are starting to get out but, despite the dismal weather and 12-degree water, they walk up the beach visibly hyped with eyes shining. There’s even hugging. Ricardo Fonseca tells me a friend invited him earlier in the year. “I’ve never stopped,” he
Photos: Tourism Tasmania / Rob Burnett; Newspix / Luke Bowden
for the