“It doesn’t get any easier– you’ve just got to get in!” a gentleman called to me as he continued to tread water, smiling. I was standing at the top of the stone steps to the water in my swimsuit in late November, shivering and seriously doubting my decision to try sea swimming. I trusted this stranger’s advice and forced myself to descend the stone steps into the waves, gasping as the frigid water hit each new spot of exposed skin. After one last second’s hesitation, I pushed myself into the bay and thrust my head in. I came back up grinning, and I’ve been hooked ever since.
An eight-second Google search yields a dazzling list of researched health benefits to cold water swimming. I believe that no scientific research is needed to prove the physical and mental benefits of sea swimming, especially when you’re hiking back from a dip at the Forty Foot, heart singing, your hair clinging to your forehead, lips still smacking of salt, and the cold slowly dissipating into your jumper as the cup of tea from your flask heats you from the inside out. The ensuing endorphin rush rewards the mental fortitude needed to force yourself into the freezing water as your body counteracts the physical shock of the water and your brain registers a sense of emotional conquest over unpleasant sensations. To me, it is an exercise in mindfulness, as the extremity of the water’s temperature and the potential for danger forces my mind into the present moment, where I then find myself marvelling at the natural beauty as gulls swoop overhead and boats bob on the same water in which I am immersed. That’s when I realised there’s a reason that humans have been sea swimming for centuries.
Suppose you’re setting out from UCD on the 46A; reaching the Forty Foot requires an extra trip on the DART from Dún Laoghaire to Sandycove or a half-hour walk along the coast. I recommend the latter option; with the sea crashing below, Dún Laoghaire’s charming homes standing guard over the bay, children calling, and dogs galumphing after tennis balls, the walk allows for reflection and admiration of the scenery, along with the practical benefit of warming you up before and after the dip.
Once you arrive at the swimming spot, something about the activity breeds friendliness; commiseration about the cold mingles with pride and pleasure, sparking conversations between swimmers. The swim itself is invigorating and refreshing. So rarely during winter do I encounter nature without the barriers of coats, hats, mittens, and scarves. The immediacy of the water and stones feel at once anchoring and elating. The euphoria lasts during the walk back into the main town, where a stop at Bear Market or Shoe Lane for a coffee and/or treat never goes amiss after the cold dip. TLDR: It’s just plain fun.
Despite the wonderful aspects, it’s important to note that sea swimming presents real dangers; bring warm, layered clothing, a flask of tea, and a swimming hat for extra safety against the cold. If you will be swimming for an extended period, invest in a pair of earplugs to protect your hearing against Surfer’s Ear. Additionally, check the weather, tide tables, and water quality online before setting out.
If you cannot swim, this certainly isn’t the environment in which to learn; even experienced swimmers should always play it safe. Bringing along a buddy is a great idea. This isn’t a comprehensive list of safety measures, so continue educating yourself online about safe sea swimming.
Winter is simply too long to stay inside, and college can be too stressful to fail to find some adventures just for you. Sea swimming is the perfect antidote to winter blues. If you’re looking for a way to get a whole new perspective on life, try hopping on the 46A and taking part in the time-honoured tradition of a dip in the sea to cure all your ailments.
Edie Weinstein – A&L Editor
