pool to peak newport head2head ocean swim black head 2010

Any 'port in a storm at Mini-Mollymook...
Head2Head Swim, Black Head, Sunday, January 3, 2010
Pool to Peak Swim, Newport, Sunday, January 3, 2010
Capt. Christie Classic, Gerringong, Sunday, January 3, 2010

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The Glistening Dave Pano -- all umbrellas and weather this week. But if anyone can make a place look good in conditions like these, it's our staff photo drunk, The Glistener (Glistenerr, on Twitter).

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Our correspondent says these conditions were "inviting", but he has his reasons. Glistening Dave says: "Above is what it was like, a stunningly beautiful day at Newport, the booeys moved after the start, it rained, it was wet and it was cold."

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Big nambas umbrella.

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Glistening Dave: "The happy delightful crowd, watching all the action!"

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Glistening Dave: "Last one home, it took about 1 and 1/2 hours for this laydee to finish, fair dinkum".

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Presso.

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Glistening Dave: "This I think was worn so as she could be spotted in the ocean if she got lost."

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No Sunscreen Required

We could not wait to get into the water at Newport. Not because the water looked fabulous, exactly. In fact, from where we were standing, it looked like shite. It looked exactly like what the surf reports had said it would look like, which was, “choppy and fairly uninviting” and “at the moment it’s a real mess”. Nope. The reason we wanted to get into the water at Newport was that we were freezing our bits off standing on the beach, and we reckoned it was gonna be warmer in the water. There we were, standing on the wet sand, under the wet sky, in the wet wind, with only our budgies between us and the elements. So we huddled under the conveniently placed tent with the rest and the best, like a waddle of emperor penguins waiting out a storm.

It had been a mixture of excitement and trepidation that brought us to Newport a couple of days after the new year. Excitement, because we had never done this swim before, and we had heard that it was good. Trepidation, because the weather was lookin’ a bit on the interesting side, and we weren’t quite sure where Newport was. But after trawling up the long coast road, wondering if we had gone past Newport yet, we came across a Harris Farm truck. Heading north, on a Sunday. And we knew we were on the right track. Thanks Harris Farm. Keep on truckin’.

But back to the beach, where we looked longingly at the uninviting mess and hoped we could get in it soon. Here, the waiting crew were treated to the sight of the first (under 20s) wave getting hammered by a big set, with some of it returned to the beach in various positions. We’re ashamed to say that this caused some hilarity amongst the older ranks, ourselves included, but no-one was hurt and it sure did look funny from where we were standing.

Then it was our turn to make the run out through the washing machine. We’re pleased to report that we made it out the back with grace and aplomb, not so much because we are graceful or aplombish, but because our wave happened to hit a break between the sets, and because, for once, we were not trying to fight off two hundred or so other swimmers. For yea, and verily, the bad weather yields some benefits. To quote a bottle of Coopers, “every cloud has a silver lining”.

We rounded the first buoy and settled into our stroke. Here we discovered, to our delight, that being in the ocean was indeed a considerable improvement to being on the beach. We reveled in the warmth of the 22° water as we passed the first of the water safety people. The poor water safety people! There they were, bedraggled, wet, and wind-blown, whilst we lolled about like a toddler in a bath. But they stayed out there. Like lighthouses in a storm. Drenched and disheveled lighthouses, maybe, but lighthouses nonetheless.

The first reach wasn’t directly into the south swell, but it was close enough to it. Close enough that we were tossed up, down and sometimes sideways, feeling a bit like a cork in a king tide. But we secretly revel in these conditions. We love a real ocean swim, with a bit of swell and chop, and what it does to the times of the pool swimmers amongst us. We swallowed a bit of water, but not too much, and rounded the second buoy.

Here it became apparent that navigation was the key for newbies at Newport. Oh, the navigation looked simple enough, from the beach. It looked like a rectangle. On the diagram on the tent it was definitely a rectangle. Here, in the water, we discovered that it was not a rectangle at all, but some kind of weird shape with strange angles and odd lengths and all was confusion. We’re not sure what this shape is called. We suspect it does not have a name. We could give it a name, but it would not be printable on oceanswims.com.

We rounded the third buoy, and gave silent thanks to the organisers for setting an anti-clockwise course in a southerly swell. It was a winner. We were now swimming with the swell and wind behind us, and we were hammering down that long back reach like a powerboat on rocket fuel. (In reality, it was more like a log raft with no engine, but at least we felt like a powerboat.).

Into the last reach, heading back at another weird angle to the swell and chop. And we managed to nail the navigation. We’re not sure how. We saw swimmers in front of us spread out like a fan, searching for that next unseen buoy. We hear that one esteemed and highly experienced swimmer was observed passing a slower one. Twice. He may have passed us twice too, and we know for sure that Tacoma Jim passed us once, because we saw him taking photographs at the start and yet there he was again at the final buoy, catching poor unsuspecting folk in unflattering poses, while they were trying to work out where the beach was.

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Glistening Dave: "Best place to be was in the club house looking at Tacoma Jim's pics of the swim".

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Author in unsuspecting pose.

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Back into the washing machine, which spat us out on the beach. Where we ate our Harris Farm fruit, put on some warm clothes, stood in the queue for the BBQ and joined the crew in the clubhouse bar.

We don’t know who the last swimmer was, but while the rest of us were eating bacon, egg and sausages in the bar, this poor soul was still out there battling the chop. It was one of the bravest efforts we have ever seen. Despite being almost too tired to stand up, this courageous individual kept on going until she hit the sand. And the water safety stayed with her all the way, bless ‘em. The entire peleton, organisers and everyone else were held spellbound for several minutes, watching as she struggled between that last buoy and the beach. And all rose up as one and cheered when she summoned enough strength to catch a wave, right at the end!

We loved this swim. We loved the anti-clockwise course, we loved the wacky shape with the weird angles, and the fruit, it was well-run and everyone was mightily cheerful under the conditions. The spot prizes were great, the winner of the ladies swimwear was a bloke (“you’ll look great in this”), and the BBQ sandwich with the works was up there amongst the best. We’ll be back.

Glenn Muir

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Shore break.

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Always a good spread when Harris Farm Markets sponsors a swim.

Black Head

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Black Head beach and surf club. We'll certainly go back there.

Getting up early

What is it that makes one get out of bed at 4am on the Sunday morning of a holiday weekend, when it's raining, miserable and dreary outside, to drive more than three hours to the country over wet roads at the height of holiday season, to attend a first-time ocean swim at a location you've never been to, only to turn around again, afterwards, and drive more than three hours home again through the holiday traffic? Particularly when one's week is made up of 5am starts, and weekends are when one is supposed to catch up on the sleep lost during the week.

Your answer is there already: "...a first-time ocean swim at a location you've never been to".
One of the glories of ocean swimming -- and there are many -- is the discovery of a new location, the opportunity to discover places that you'd otherwise never go to, another pristine, "dolphin beach", surrounded by bushland and set against a symphonic backdrop of calling birds.

Enter Black Head. We'd heard of the place, not least because our cobber, Bike Man , has a holiday home there. But we'd never been ourselves. Been past the turn off -- it's only six ks into the beach from the main road -- and thought of it, as we'd turned onto and off the local main road on the way to and from Forster, which is about 15 minutes down the road. So close to a major centre, as it were, yet so far.

But when the Black Head SLSC people contacted us last year to let us know they were planning to hold their first ocean swim, we never thought otherwise than that we would attend that one. We did offer one bit of gratuitous advice, however: that they were "courageous", as Sir Humphrey would say, to hold their first swim on Mothers Day, which was the date planned at the time.

The Black Head later came to their senses, and opted for January 3, at that time an empty date on the NSW ocean swimming calendar save for Gerringong on the South Coast, which is one of our favourites. North Coast, South Coast, height of holiday time, plenty of room for both.

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The start of the 1.5km swim. They mean it.

And so we found ourselves on the F3 as the sun came up, or rather, as the sun's light found its way through the heavy cloud. Just over three hours after departure, we arrived in Black Head, after finding, to our delight, that the new stretch of dual carriageway from Karuah to just south of B'lah-de-la, had opened at last. The day before, Sat'dee, we'd followed the fortunes of holiday traffic from afar, as our eldest son, oceanswims.com jr I, on his first "road trip" with cobbers, took seven hours to get from Sydney to Forster. We hope he's keeping a diary of this trip, our Jack Kerouac of a lad.
All cleared this early Sundee morning, but. It was a smooth, not-too-fast run up the dual carriageway with the cruise control keeping a lid on the speed, stopping only to collect the Hungry Jack's equivalent of a bacon and egg McMuffin at Heatherbrae, after Mrs Sparkle refused to enter the pie shop.

It was worth it. Black Head, on the inside of Hallidays Point, is a very beautiful bushland beach, reminiscent of Mollymook in its shape and configuration. Indeed, bobbing around in a very bumpy briney on the return reach from north to south, we felt we could have been at Mollymook in the Storm Swim of 2009, last April. No storm at Black Head, but an eerily similar beach, albeit smaller.
Black Head is one of the those beaches with a lagoon or a creek behind it, which breaks out in heavy rain, as it did the night before the swim. One had to negotiate this creek to get from the surf club, tucked into the lee of the headland, onto the beach for swim start-finish. It made the break brackish, too, and cooler than the sea, we realised, as we headed past the break into the open ocean.

Did we say it was bumpy? We did? Thought so. It was very bumpy. But, strangely, it was a nice bumpy, perhaps because it was bumpy in a southerly swell, which means the main reach of each of the two swims -- 750m and 1.5km -- ran with the swell and the chop, which means one continually was picked up from behind and thrust forward. It was very lively water, always doing something, a delight to swim through. his was especially the case on the short reach from the far out northerly turner to the inside northerly turner, when the swell was behind us more directly.

Around that one, the course brought us behind the break and into the swell, diagonally across it. A bit tougher, but requiring an adjusted technique: keep your head down, maintain that torpedo position, lengthen your stroke, don't waste the finishing flourish, or the reach before the grab. It was a challenge for some, because late in the swim is when you get tired, and when you get tired you tend to lift your head. Lifting your head is death: your forward momentum stops, as the head lift means the leg-drop. It's difficult to swim forwards when you're heading towards the vertical. (there is a very useful synopis of this on the oceanswims blob, under Bumpy at Bar Beach, just posted on Sundee night ... check it out (click here)).

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Skiter.

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The short swim, especially, which ran off the southern corner of the beach, was run over a very interesting bottom: lots of mini-reefs with weed and fish. There is a reef running along the beach just offshore, too, and in heavier seas, a bombora breaks about 150m out. We could see where it happens when the larger sets came through, but it was high tide and nothing broke.

The Black Head people tried very hard. It was a very friendly swim. Excellent barbie. It seemed they harnessed the entire Black Head-Taree community to work on this one. And a wonderful day out.
Just a couple of points, but the organisers know this anyway: you can't use surf carnival booees in an ocean swim. Swimmers can't see them. The use of the oboes that surf clubs use at carnivals made it very difficult to find one's way. Some will argue that, in an ocean swim, you should be able to deal with this, and so we should. But if you wish to manage your risk, as an organiser, then you will have an interest in ensuring that your mug punters can find their way around the course with sidetrips to Lord Howe Island. It wasn't that bad, of course, but the point is there. As we say, the organisers know this.

And another thing, while the course announcer, as we understand it, was very good at keeping the mob on the beach up with what was going on in the water, they did this through the assistance of jet ski riders who darted about the place to check on swimmer numbers, thus to inform the announcer, who would look up their names and announce them. All well and good in principle, and a good idea that others have spoken of but few have tried. But you have to do that without the jetski riders darting in and out of the peloton. We had jet ski riders skip in front of us a couple of times. It not only was too close, but it also was dangerous, not to mention the obnoxious fumes. Powered craft in an ocean swim should keep their distance from the punters. Watch them, be vigilant in your service, but don't come near us unless you absolutely have to.

We hope Black Head keeps this date and makes it theirs. There are many, many punters on the North Coast at this time of year, and this could become a landmark holiday coast swim, just like Yamba the day after Boxing Day.

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Russell Jackson is the Charlie of Forster. The right Charlie, too. He is at the centre of the Forster Turtles, a swimming club of mainly laydees, who this time at Black Head appeared to comprise about half the peloton. No wonder Russell is smiling. An old codger, too.

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oceanswims.com finishes the 750 metre swim at Black Head. But you could tell that.

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Black Head beach at Hallidays Point. Swim venue.

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It was a good barbie at Black Head.

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How many lifesavers does it take to kick start a jet ski?

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