Buddy Swim Report for this Monumental Day in the United (?) States of America.
Swim Buddy: Dave C.
Launching Point: Point White Pier
Water temperature: 51 degrees
Air temperature: 48 degrees
Distance swam: 1 mile or so
Swim Goals for today:
1. Get in, breathe deeply to calm down nervous system, heart rate and allow time for body to numb up, using distraction techniques such as studying cloud shapes and wave direction to determine swim route.
2. Swim with buddy to bring back a tranquil mind after harrowing week waiting for Biden/Harris to secure the win, and discover that again, yes, the water sustains me, holds me and frees my mind. Every time. And tells me to trust and keep holding onto hope that we can make the future better with a lot of hard work and determination and fearlessness and grit and an open mind. Kind of like open water swimming.
3. Maximize the therapeutic benefits of cold water shock therapy by swimming as far as possible while avoiding Raynards’ Syndrome, hypothermia and red jellyfish, or any other unpleasantness if at all possible.
4. Seek out any sea life along the way, including moon jellies, seaweed bits, crabs, one purple starfish and one mid-sized red jellyfish, observing from a respectful distance, and look for moon snail shells to add to growing collection that is starting to appear in every corner of my small house, much to my family’s dismay.
5. Return safely with swim buddy to Point White Pier, exit water via dock ladder as quickly as possible, run numbly to van, dripping black and swaying slightly side to side like a deranged seal sprung from the sea trying legs out for the first time, retrieve phone to get a buddy photo, get photo from locals passing by aghast at the insanity of open water swimming in November, dash back to van, dress awkwardly with little concern for privacy as utterly preoccupied with getting heart to pump enough blood to stiff fingers in order to peel out of rubber suit and manage dressing as the chilly air tries to freeze droplets of salt in place, or so it seems.
Post Swim Notes:
All goals listed above were achieved for the buddy swim. And, as always, there were a couple of surprises. That’s the whole point.
The surprises:
First, there was the sunlight. The sky was a patchwork of grey clouds when we arrived, having dumped rain just prior to our swim, but as we headed north, bit by bit, the blue broke through, and sunlight surprised us midway through our swim, lighting up our path, as gentle waves from the north nudged us south back to the start. Muted sunlight swept the sandy and rocky bottom below, a reminder that the light is always there even when we can’t see it.
The second surprise was the moment I realized how elated I felt as I pulled and kicked along in water so deep that I couldn’t see the bottom. All I could see was water, flecked with a bit of seaweed here and there, maybe a lone moon jelly, but otherwise blank like a green screen. There are few places one can go, other than deep water, with eyes wide open and experience such a simple view. This view led me to more daydreams of deep water crossings in the future, my mind fluttering to where and when and how. And I will.
The final gift, and surprise of the day was from my swim buddy, Dave. With kind earnestness he told me he’d look for moon snails on our swim, aware of my fascination and growing shell collection. Several times he spotted live ones far below, ones I did not or could not see without my glasses.
And then, almost back to the dock, he called to me. I looked over, he raised his arm up, and as I approached I saw he had found a moon snail. He handed it to me, the weight surprised me—it was not just a shell. It was a living moon snail. And it was perfect. We tread water for a minute, as I held this clever creature, lightly touched its sealed hatch, the one opening protecting it from the outside world.
And I smiled and thanked Dave. We were both pleased, and enjoyed this quiet moment of shared delight, and peace and friendship, in the company of a moon snail.
With one last look, we parted ways, and I dove under to release this magical life back to its home beneath the waves. Down it sank, landing softly on the sand.
And Dave and I swam home, empty handed but with treasures galore.
Mary Swims 
🎀🌙🌻💦🌻🌙🎀