In a bid to improve my connection with nature, as well as to sooth my sometimes fried nervous system, this summer I decided to immerse myself in regular cold water experiences. Whilst I have loved swimming in the sea over the years and always try to get in there a few times during the warmer summer months, life often seems to get in the way. I cannot claim to have committed to swimming (I mean dipping, as there is often not much swimming to be seen) every day, but I certainly have been in the sea more this year than ever before. Every experience has been different, and I have met a whole range of people and wildlife along the way.

One sunny June day, when squeezing in to the Strete Gate car park was a bit of a challenge, I met some friends to take my first dip of the season. I knew it was going to be cold, it always is the first time, so you may imagine my surprize when I quickly found myself surrounded by lots and lots of jelly fish. (Jellyfish are usually known for favouring warmer waters that come later in the season). Now, unlike most people who retreat from jelly fish as fast as they are able, I have always been intrigued by them and wanted to have a closer look. These little creatures were compass jellyfish; not the large ones that I was used to seeing later in the summer, but tiny ones the size of golf balls, but with the loooongest tentacles. It was difficult to avoid being caught by them, but luckily little fellas were not particularly potent, and by the time I retreated from the water, I could no longer feel that I had been stung. Hanging out with the jellyfish, were an array of comb jellies, creatures, that could be confused with jellyfish, but are actually a different creature entirely. These translucent marine invertebrates look a bit like a gooseberry or gherkin and are lined with rows of tiny hairs that move in a way that produces an iridescent shimmering effect.

Nature Diary 11.09.2024 Compass Jellyfish
Nature Diary 11.09.2024 Compass Jellyfish (Nature Diary 11.09.2024 Compass Jellyfish)

On a low tide at Torcross, it is possible to snorkel round the rocks and glimpse a variety of fish hanging out, in and about the seaweed that clings to the seabed. I have taken to stopping here on my way home from work and one pristinely still day in August I saw that the water was clear, so I decided to spend some time swimming with the fishes, observing them and enjoying being momentarily in their world. Thousands of sand eels shimmered in the sunlight; their slim little bodies wiggling back and forth as they swam together in unison, with the occasional larger sand eel meandering through the shoal. A solitary grey mullet appeared out of the gloom and took me by surprize, but I guess I surprised it too! as it soon darted off. Then a sight that I had not observed before; a group of small unidentified fish were making a meal out of, what I can only presume, was a dead jellyfish. A few at a time, they darted back to the floating jelly, taking a bite and then darting away. I looked on mesmerised.

Nature Diary 11.09.2024 Swimming at Torcross
Nature Diary 11.09.2024 Swimming at Torcross (Nature Diary 11.09.2024 Swimming at Torcross)

Another favourite swimming spot, (although not for everyone) is at Bowcombe Quay. Here at high tide, I throw myself off the edge of the quay (and sometimes the bridge) into the estuary, where marginally warmer water than the sea awaits. If the tide is not high enough, I wade out with the squidgy mud between my toes. At these times, with the tide just covering the mudflats, the water is often alive with grey mullet that skim along with their noses out of the water feeding on surface oils (which are mainly composed of microalgae) that are lifted off the mud by the incoming and outgoing tides. I enjoy watching them swirl around and make patterns in the water as they scoot about without a care.

Nature Diary 11.09.2024 Swimming at Bowcombe
Nature Diary 11.09.2024 Swimming at Bowcombe (Nature Diary 11.09.2024 Swimming at Bowcombe)

One day whilst sitting on the edge of the quay, waiting for the tide to come in, I watched as thousands of tiny fish fry swam past. These tiny, almost microscopic larvae are so tiny, you could almost miss them. One day a fraction of their numbers will grow to become some of the many adult fish species we see in the estuary and sea, but for the rest they provide food for all sorts of creature living in and around the water.

I intend to keep swimming through the winter, so I update you with more watery adventures later in the year!