Surfing at Eastbourne - 23 January

 A forecast for a northerly suggested that Days Bay and environs would be a calmer place to swim on Saturday 23 January, with an 8am start (my inspired suggestion) so that we'd be finished before the wind got ... windy. A fairly large group rolled up to the Days Bay car park, with some people planning to swim to Pt Howard (3.2ish km), some planning a Point Howard return (6.5ish km) and Jeremy, Rebecca and I intending to do a Point Howard return before zipping over to Eastbourne wharf and back (making a tidy 9km). For me, the swim from Days Bay to Point Howard always seems endlessly long. It takes ages to get level with the Pt Howard wharf, and then it takes ages to reach the beach. Even though this stretch of water receives shelter from the surrounding hills, it feels as if something is pushing you back the whole way.  Still, we reached Point Howard fairly swiftly, according to some local swimmers who set off before us and were surprised we arrived so quickly. After quickly refuelling with a snack ball or two and a drink, we embarked upon the return to Days Bay. Unlike the outward leg, I find myself in my element on this stretch. The wind/swell whizzed me along, and despite my best efforts I kept getting ahead of Jeremy and Rebecca (we were supposed to stay together for reasons that I will reveal in due course). We struck land at Days Bay, and rehydrated. The valve on my towfloat got stuck, so I couldn't reinflate it at all. As it turned out, that wasn't such a bad thing.

The initial stages of the quick 1.25km to Eastbourne started calmly enough, the swell pushing us towards our goal. However, as we emerged from the sheltering embrace of the hill, the force of the northerly became more apparent in the form of large, large waves. While we avoided the rocky points between Days Bay and Eastbourne, once Eastbourne Beach appeared it was harder and harder to point towards the wharf. Suddenly I found that the sand was more or less directly under my hand, and the force of the waves continued to push us beachwards. Only a colossal (ok, not all that colossal) effort reorientated us towards the end of the wharf (which turned out to be swarming with fishermen so we couldn't touch it in case we got mixed up with their lines).  

For the return swim to Days Bay it seemed prudent to bear away from the shore, and maintain a straight line to the rocky point at the southern end of Days Bay. The waves (not chop, waves) were all whitecaps, and pretty rough. Staying together was almost impossible, as we disappeared behind the swell, so we agreed to regroup at Days Bay wharf.  After about 150 strokes I couldn't see Rebecca or Jeremy at all, and waves kept smacking me painfully on the head, so I decided just to go all-out to reach Days Bay wharf. After what seemed like quite a long time I was a little closer to it, but then saw the East-by-West ferry and became paranoid that it would mow me down as it headed for Eastbourne, so I swung to the right and thought I'd swim into the southern part of Days Bay and then walk.  As it happened, I was inside the buoys that the ferry stays outside of (I just couldn't see them) and the ferry was heading to Matiu-Somes anyway. What a waste of paranoia! After this relief, it seemed fairly simple to cruise past the end of the Days Bay wharf and make landfall on the northern side, after waving cheerfully at the guys fishing on that wharf. J and R weren't far behind: Jeremy had lost his tow float, which had been torn away by the waves; then he remembered it had his car keys in it, so had to sprint to retrieve the float, which Rebecca secured to her towfloat instead. 

After getting dressed (and discovering that the car in which my clothes were stashed, a Tesla) could be opened remotely from the cafe where its owner was refreshing himself, we staggered towards Chocolate Dayz, where I attempted to scrub all the zinc from my face, and had some desperately needed recovery food.  All in all, a grand day out swimming. No photos, I completely forgot.