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.