Pandemic Swimming Sugar Babies

 

I sit on the shore at Keller Beach watching the two swimmers heading back to the beach. There’s a darker blue ribbon of current that is visible today. It winds its way out to sea, toward Angel Island, before disappearing. As I watch one of the swimmers stroking in, I notice that she seems to be following the current, like the yellow brick road, only it’s a blue river path!

            When she emerges, sans wetsuit (I still marvel at most swimmers’ ability to swim without a wetsuit in these chilly waters), she pokes around the shoreline for a few minutes, turning up seaweed? Picking up tiny shells? Waiting for her friend?

            “Do you see that current?” I ask Ian, who’s still prepping himself with sunscreen.

            “Yeah, I noticed it. From up by the bathrooms, you can see it more clearly.”

            “I can see it very clearly today right from here!” I exclaim.

            “Yup, you’re right,” he agrees.

            “Did you notice how that swimmer swam along by the current? I wonder if it’s easier to swim in the current coming back from the Pylons? Like a swimming conveyer belt?”

            He laughs, “Maybe. You could ask her.”

            And, so I do. Approaching her, she’s still deep in her beachcombing activities, but when I greet her, she stops and smiles. Her friend is now back on the shore, too. Beachcomber, like I said, has no wetsuit. She’s in a swim bikini, her tan, muscled self, slick from the water. She’s stocky and robust, like many of the swimmers here. Her friend, however, is an older lady, smaller and softer. She wears a wetsuit. They both smile at me when I ask them how their swim was.

            “Great!” Bikini Woman chuckles.

            “I noticed that you were swimming along the current there,” I point to it.

            She shields her eyes, “Oh, yeah, I didn’t notice it.”

            “So, you weren’t really following its path.”

            “Nah, the water is very gentle today!”

            “I can’t believe you can swim without a wetsuit,” I observe.

            She glances at me up and down, “Yeah, well, I got a bit more padding than you. You’re skinny!”

            We all laugh. I don’t feel skinny, but I suppose compared to her, I am.

            “I need to eat more ice cream!” I joke.

            Her friend joins in, “I’ve noticed, since the Pandemic, that I crave sweets so much more!” She pats her round little belly, still encased in the wetsuit.

            “Yeah, me too,” I say. “I think the sweets are our coping mechanisms, you know? During this stressful time? We need to give ourselves a reward!”

            Sweet Tooth lady grins, “Yes, you may be right about that!”

            Bikini Woman turns away, kicks at a bit of sand, gently toeing the water. I wonder what she’s looking for. But I don’t ask. I’m ready to get in the water, start my swim to the pylons, and burn off those calories so I can eat more ice cream!

            “Nice chattin’ with you,” I wave goodbye.

            “Yes, you too,” Bikini Woman begins her beachcombing in earnest now, and Sweet Tooth Woman joins her. They put their heads together, talking softly, kicking gently at the sand, seaweed, and pebbles at the water’s edge. I note their connection and wonder what their relationship is. Friends? Lovers? Mother daughter? It’s something familiar and deep. I can tell. And, I think how wonderful it is that they share this ocean swimming. Just like me and Ian!

            I start to back into the water. Damn it’s cold! Ian follows me in, “Brrrrrrr!!!” he shivers, tossing the cold liquid up onto himself.

            I laugh. Turn around to face the current, then dive under the chilly surface. The eel grass brushing at my arms and belly as I head out to sea.

            What a marvelous thing to be able to swim out past these underwater grasses, toward the blue path, into the deep blue bay. I turn on my back and gaze up into the clear blue sky. A seagull circles overhead,  then lands near me in the water. I smile over at him, before turning on my belly and stroking toward the pylons.

Swimmer’s Itch

 

“What do these signs say?” Ian nods toward the white signage posted on bright orange sandwich boards at the shoreline. I sigh…what now? It’s been 10 days since I’ve been swimming --what with the bad air quality and the pools and beaches all closed because, hell, we can’t breathe. The dense and persistent smoke from dozens of wildfires surrounding the Bay Area has made being outdoors difficult and hazardous to our health. It’s like smoking 20 packs of cigarettes a day! Or so rumor has it. And after all, swimmers do need to breathe!

            So, today is the first day that the air is better. In fact, here at Keller Beach it’s blue skies and puffy white clouds floating over the bay toward a now visible Mt. Tam. I am so excited to be back on the beach! And, no one is here! Unlike the last time we were at Keller on Labor Day Weekend: pot addled bongo drum players; noisy families putting up tents and unpacking barbeques; everyone too close for comfort given the Pandemic---no mask, no room for social distancing. It was insane!

            Today, it’s calm and peaceful and gorgeous. Why oh why is there another obstacle to contend with. Because the signs must be alerting swimmers to something wrong, right?

            “It’s rather ominous,” Ian comments. “No one’s here….” He leans over and reads one of the signs as I take in the other:

            WARNING! All Swimmers and Waders!

            Tiny microorganisms causing ‘Swimmers Itch’ have

            been reported in the shallow water. Please be aware of

            this and avoid wading in shallow water. The micrograms attack

            the hands and feet. It is not fatal, but can be irritating. 

            Shower and towel off immediately after swimming!

Great, I think. All I need now is Swimmer’s Itch! But I don’t swim or wade in the shallow water. I head out to sea, into the deeper waters, to make my way to the pylons. So, it seems like I’ll be okay, right?

            I ask Ian what he thinks.

            “I guess it’ll be okay,” he muses. "You do take a shower after you swim....."

            “Yes! I do!  I’m going in!” I proclaim. “I haven’t been swimming for over 10 days and I NEED to swim! I can live with a little itch if I get it. That’s better than not swimming!”

            “Hopefully, we won’t get it,” Ian says, heading back to our spot on the beach and starting the prep for our water entry.

            I’ve heard of Swimmer’s Itch before. There were signs about it at Alameda when we went swimming there weeks ago and I hadn’t mentioned it. To be honest, I didn’t even really read the signs very closely. I’m always in such a tizzy to swim. With this Pandemic, my swimming is so erratic and the outdoor swimming is so dependent on outside forces. If there’s lightening—forget it. If there’s smoke, well, I’m willing to give it a try, but breathing is a necessity. Ian demonstrated one day while we were walking with deep breaths of taking air in and letting it out with loud vocal accompaniment to this like a Tuba on its last legs.

            So, okay, Swimmer’s Itch. It sounds nasty, but not as nasty as a seal bite, right? Which I suppose is still a possibility.

            We get me into the wetsuit today with little difficulty. Ian has figured out the “Zip” and now it’s easy peasy. Well, almost. As I head down to the shore, past the warning signs, I think of the tiny biting organisms that will make me itch, but only for a moment as I head into the water. Diving under and taking that first stroke—I’m in heaven! The water’s floating embrace and brisk coolness is such a high. I can’t believe I haven’t been swimming in the bay all these years.

            Yet, why would I? With my indoor pool routine, there was no need. The very thought of diving into the freezing bay was a ludicrous prospect. Today, though, I’m so jubilant to be back in the water, swimming toward the pylons, the blue skies smiling at me and the puffy clouds shaped like elephants leading the way.

            The swim is hard today though. Maybe it’s cuz I haven’t been for so long; my arms are tired and my hands are cold. But I know the route now and know I can do it. I just need to pace myself. When I reach the pylons, Mr. and Mrs. Cormorant greet me with their outspread wings before taking off, skimming the bay with their black bodies low. I wave to them before turning around and heading back to shore, knowing the way back is a breeze. The current and tide are with me, carrying me back to the shore.

            Ian’s been swimming parallel to the shore this whole time. I’m still amazed he can stay in the cold water for so long! As we head back to the beach, I see that the families with little kids have stared piling in. Time to dry off and head out before the screaming kids take over.

            Sitting up in the sun, towels covering me, I watch as a mom in front of us texts something on her phone and then asks her kid, “Do you want some grapefruit?”

            “Nah,” he declines. Of course. What 4-year-old wants grapefruit? He heads down to the shore, starts wading in the water. I watch as he kicks at the tiny waves and picks up piles of seaweed, tossing it back into the bay. “Shouldn’t that kid not be wading in the water?” I ask Ian.

           

“One would think so,” Ian nods.

            “I wonder if that mom read the signs?”

            Ian shrugs. “People are stupid.”

            And I think, were we stupid to swim today? Did we contract the tiny microorganisms’ little bites? Will I wake up with itchy hands and feet tomorrow?

            I sure hope not!

            But even if I do, it will be worth it.

            Anything to swim!

SEALS????

“I had heard that….I was hoping it wasn’t true….”

“Yeah, well, I’ll know more tomorrow when I talk to her. I think that it wasn’t a bad bite, but it definitely broke the skin. At first she said she just felt something swimming next to her, you know rubbing up against her, and then she felt a couple little nips and then, yeah, a bite!”

“I think there are lots of pups out there now. The seals may be protecting them.”

“Or there are fish. And the seal just thought she was one!”

“There are a lot of people swimming out here now that didn’t used to.”

“Yeah, that’s true. I just hope that a seal doesn’t bite me!”

            In my hazy eavesdropping mode after another arduous swim to the Pylons here at Keller Beach, I listen in horror and fascination about the Seal Bite Incident. Man! I would be so creeped out if I were swimming along and then felt something alive underwater rubbing against me. I’d just scream! Then I’m sure the seal would bite me.

            I tell Ian what I just heard after all these swimmers don their gear and head out to the water. Undaunted by any potential threat of a seal bite!

            “I would like to see a seal,” Ian mused, staring out at the water.

            “Yeah, me too, but I wouldn’t want to get bitten by one!”

            “No, that wouldn’t be good,” he agreed.

 I  think of the seal games we used to play in the pool in Hacienda Heights. My father could make the best seal barks. “Arrrrfff arrrffff arrrffff!” Then he clapped his hands, grinning and floating, while I and my sisters laughed in utter delight and enchantment. Swimming with my dad was always so much fun. The seal game. The Dead Bug Game. This is when we would all just float on our own separate beach balls in the pool as ‘dead bugs’. It was a very relaxing and quiet game. I remember it came about because it was so smoggy during the summers in Hacienda Heights of the 1960s and 70s that we were instructed by my mom to not move much in order to not breathe the bad smoggy air.

            Kinda like it is today in the Bay Area from all the fires. Our air is so smoky! I probably shouldn’t be swimming so hard outside to the pylons and back, breathing in all that smoke, but when I’m in the water, I just don’t want to get out. A little smoke? So what? A lot of smoke? So what? A seal biting? Now that would get me out of the water!

            I wonder if I should do a bit of research and find out where the seal biting was exactly. Was it on the swim to the pylons in the direction of SF? Or was it in the other direction, toward the Richmond Bridge? This seems more likely as I have noticed how the seals roost—is that the right word?—on the rocks below the bridge when I drive over. You can hear them barking. Just like my father!

            So, it makes sense that the seal biting was in this direction. But….I have to admit I’m a little creeped out. I can’t see a thing in the water when I’m swimming! In fact, today, I swam right over this old guy who was doing a lazy breaststroke without a bright cap or floaty. I just felt the water move and then stood up (I was almost back to shore) and glanced over in the direction of the movement and saw this big brown back. At first I thought it was a body! OMG! A corpse floating in the water at Keller Cove! But then it moved and I saw it was a man just meandering through the water without any notice of me whatsoever!

            It wouldn’t take much for me to be right on top of a seal before I knew it given the murkiness of the water!

            I sometimes wish I didn’t eavesdrop so much. But I just can’t help it. And then my ‘hearing ear’ has to write it down, so it’s like documented eavesdropping.

            Next time I’m on the beach, I will try to close my ears.

            Hah! Just kidding. The hearing ear is always open for business unless I’ve got my earplugs in and then forget it, I’m just in the water. Seals beware. I may swim right over you. Just don’t bite me. Please. I mean no harm. I’m not really a fish in the sea. I don’t taste good at all!