Northside people marvel when they come to the Eastern Suburbs. Glistening Dave, who grew up in Willoughby, went to school at McMahons Point, now lives at Mona Vale, says: "The built environment, so different to the northern beaches, and probably so different to anything overseas". It's called "the city", Glistener.

Still warming up, after all these fears

We never did figure out how Wedding Cake Island got its name. We always thought it had something to do with the foaming white surf crashing all around it. But according to Wikipedia it is something much less poetic. According to Wikipedia, what gives this dramatic backdrop to Coogee Bay its name is the fact that it is covered with bird shit.

Then again, Wikipedia says it was also formerly called Gingerbread Island. We’re no longer so sure about Wikipedia.

Check out Sabine Braun's gallery from Coogee... (click here)

Anyway, Pavlova Rocks, Banana Bread Atoll, whatever you want to call it, there could be no better start to the ocean swimming season than getting around the back of it and looking at all the fish. Or, as happened today, the jellyfish. As of today we’re no longer so sure about the jellyfish, either. But we’ll get to that later.

Our first day of ocean swimming in the summer of 2009/10 kicked off with an early start – up at 4:15 a.m. to watch the Wallabies win over Wales. According to our Welsh cousin, Ken Jones (yes, his name really is Ken Jones), Wales are not warmed up yet. Which is perhaps not surprising, since the maximum temperature in Wales at the moment is about 7 degrees.

Here in Aus, however, the temperature was lookin’ pretty good for an ocean swim. Too hot the day before, rain the day after (or such is the prediction), the dawn at Coogee on this most important day of all was just fine. The wind had turned westerly, so no bluebottles, the swell was light, everything was looking good for a perfect day in the water, marred only by the amount of western NSW soil that was carried by that wind, over our heads and into the sea.

We arrived a half hour before the swim, found a free park, checked out the water and registered. One of the great things about Coogee is the fact that one can register up to 15 minutes before the swim, so those of us in the later waves are not waiting around for donkey’s. If Coogee can do this, why can’t they all?

A relatively short time later we lined up, with our wave, to be sent off by Peter Garrett with a gun. Fortune seems to have been smiling his way, too, recently, what with the disintegration of the Libs over climate change. Whatever, Pete musta been happy and, soon as that gun went off, we sure as hell were, too, running headlong into Coogee Bay for the swim we have been waiting for since this time last year.

Our happiness lasted until about half-way to the first buoy. It was at this point we realised that we really should have been training, and there was still more than 2 kilometres to go. But the water felt good, oh so good, and we weren’t about to chuck in the towel yet. We kept swimming, and swimming, past that interminable row of cans until at last we reached the back of the island. And swam face first into a wall of jellyfish.

Here, at the back of the island, we looked forward to what (for us) ocean swimming is all about. The rock formations and fishies at your feet, the sky above, the sunlight slanting through the green. The silence. It was all there, of course. It was just separated from us by a wall of jello. There were literally thousands, probably tens of thousands, of tiny jellyfish, all which happened to be floating where we were swimming. Our arms pushed through them, our legs kicked past them, our goggles and face got plastered by them. It was like jelly wrestling. Not that we’ve ever been jelly wrestling, mind, but this is what we imagine it would feel like if we did.

We kept going. We made it past the jellyfish to the other side of the island. Where we discovered that our arms still thought they were jelly wrestling, even though the jellyfish were gone. Oh dear, we really should have been training. And at least a kilometre still to go.

Just like Wales, we are not warmed up yet.

Yet we continued. We floundered our way back, flopped onto the beach and sucked down a Powerade and two sausage sangas in about 10 seconds. We reflected on what we had just done. And we were happy. The ocean swimming season is here, and we are just warming up.

Glenn Muir
Special to oceanswims.com

Spot Anderson as you've never seen him before: silent.

Ocean swimmers' sign language.

Milling in the built environment.

Dave's weekly art photograrph: 3 Shapes, he calls it.

Looks like mayhem, but isn't.

Gabriel Mecs reflects on his decision to do Rotto this February.

Glistening Dave says this chap was from overseas. A new Stray'an, perhaps. And here he is, about to leave again.

"US Forces give the n-o-o-o-d..."

During the 1km swim, the wind changed. We started in a light nor'easter, but by the time we got to the far out turners, it was blowing from the nor'-west. And you know what that means? It starts blowing all those pesky blueys out to sea...

... and stirred up the white caps.

(Pics above and below by guest photo drunk, Leander, using Glistening Dave's "pitcher machine".)

They're in front of you, silly.

Murwillumbah is your typical sleepy country town but just about everyone has a `Murwillumbah’ story. Since we’re talking about Sunday’s swim the first one is from Surfers Paradise SLSC legend David Orchard who swears he put his hand through the skeletal remains of a deceased bovine during one of the early swims. Say no more.

From the deck of the Riverview Hotel, Geoff Ross from the Miami Masters swim club was pointing out the very tree where he almost put his car into the Tweed River one night years ago – waking up and just stopping just before it toppled down the back.

Someone else said the little creek running off the other side of the river was at one stage known as Murder Creek because a family of early white settlers camping there around the end of the 19th century was wiped out by local aborigines.

The refurbished Murwillumbah pool has now been re-opened for exactly one year so I had a look before going over to the presentations and while impressive it no longer has the diving tower where late great rugby league writer  Errol Harris – yet another Murwillumbah export - planned to ride his bicycle off in a graceful curve. Of course there was no graceful curve – juts an immediate drop into mid air with Errol somehow contriving to reach the water first and the bike landing on top of him.

`Lovey’ was the only man alive who knew how to keep the Gold Coast Bulletin’s antique printing press running the final years of its life. His day job was running some beef cattle near Murwillumbah. As he was moving some of these beasts along, the road two bikies came whizzing around the corner. One managed to stop in time but the other couldn’t and ricocheted off a few of the bullocks like a human pin-ball machine. The formidable Lovey was irate that the bike may have damaged some of his expensive steaks while the bikie was also annoyed.

So despite its sleepy exterior, you can always expect the unexpected in Murwillumbah, Mur-bah as the locals call it. So on a snoozy Sunday morning in a sleepy country town on the banks of ol’ man river, do things get going on time? Yes they do. Not in a rush but the race briefing, the nominated time 400m warm-up event and the two main swims - the 1.5 and 2.5km are all on the buzzer.

As usual, mush of the pre-race discussion is about water quality. But here the river is at `best ever’ standard. You can see your fingers as you swim along. This is not always the case, I’m told.

There is a team of people who ensure the event runs so smoothly and the water safety crew from Fingal surf club, but inevitably, things revolve around Killer and he copes with it all smoothly. This year at the briefing, he checks to see if any former Olympians have turned up out of the blue. Not this year. But he did have the world’s fastest Scotsman - Colin Braund - now from the North Burleigh surf club.

How fast is he? Well the 1.5km wave sets off five minutes before the 2.5km swimmers. Having caught most of the 1.5km field on the run down towards the Condong sugar mill, he completed the 2.5km and was back at the finish chute in front of all but one of the 1.5km folks. Like Muhammad Ali turning out the light and being in bed before it gets dark.

His time was 31 minutes and some seconds. Nobody got close.

Numbers were up this year – no doubt due, in part, to their one-man publicity machine. Now Killer gets a good run in Oceanswims.com but he also does the hard yards by turning up at every swim there is on the calendar and handing out fliers for the Tweed River event.

But all that is now finished for another 12 months and as a reward, the Killer roadshow is heading to Sydney this weekend for the North Curl Curl event. Don’t be alarmed just be aware.

Roger Muspratt
Particularly Special to oceanswims.com

On the road again… In the river again…

A very hot day, very warm water (27 degrees), and a record number of entrants (160 individual swimmers across the three swims), a relaxed, friendly atmosphere, and the pleasures of watching Killer at work on the microphone added up to a fantastic day in the Tweed River and on the deck of the Riverview Hotel.

Swimmers came from as far away as Rockhampton and Tamarama, with sizable numbers from the Northern Rivers, the Gold Coast and Brisbane. This added to the great support that we had from local swimmers – after a full year in operation the new Swimming Complex in Murwillumbah has had a great impact on interest in swimming in town. Make sure you check out TRAC when next you are in Murwillumbah.

The boys and girls from Fingal Rovers SLSC provided water safety and first aid and were once again able to do the job without assistance from other clubs, whilst still being able to man patrols at the beach on the day. A fantastic effort from a club with such a small membership base.

We were down on the number of Olympians this year after the heady heights of 2008 but there was still plenty of talent on display. Young Brad Soden was first home in the 1.2 km in 23:15 with Genevieve Alder first female home in 27:00. In the 2.5 km event a strong swimmer with a strong Scottish accent, Colin Braund, flew around the course to register a clearcut win, in the startling time of 31:44. Those who saw him said that he just went from the start and had a 50 metre lead over other good swimmers within the first 200 metres. An amazing swim. First female home was Julia Crilly in 37:37.

By 11 am we were all back at the Riverview Hotel for the presentations. Killer was again in fine form, thrilling the crowd with both his wit and erudition, as he handed out advice as well as prizes to the packed house. By 2 pm fever pitch was reached as James T and the Tomahawks began tuning up – the dance floor was soon jumping as the magical notes of some old Creedence hits and James’s newly written Blues songs filled the still air of a Murwillumbah Sunday afternoon. We were well and truly on the road again!

If you are anywhere near Murwillumbah on Sunday 28th November 2010 you owe it to yourself to come and check out the wonder that is the Killer Swim and, as it will be our 10 year anniversary in 2010, you can expect something extra special!

Marc Vining
Extraordinarily special to oceanswims.com

Our special video correspondent taped James T and the Tomahawks doing On the road again and Goin' up the country on the deck of the Riverview Hotel. We hope to bring it to you in next week's report from North Curl Curl and Bondi-Bronte: os.c

The start of the Elites. Some are more relaxed about their sport than others.

Imbroglio.

Dragging the Pacific with him.

Eyes.

Taking aim.

Contact imminent.

Turmoil behind the island.

One of the grand old men of ocean swimming, Maurice Westerweller, now swimming in the 60+ age category. Still time for a smile.

The last ones home. (Sport, you could cut your time in half by trashing those boardies.)