Swimming in the Irish Sea – for the fool-hardy & the brow-beaten

Swimming in the Irish Sea is not for the fainthearted. I should know because I'm fainthearted and the Irish Sea is cold - really cold.

How cold? I don't know, but someone I know who has sampled both the waters off Maine and the Irish Sea says the two are about the same. What I do know is it sure ain't summer at Jones Beach or the Jersey Shore.

I don't have a temperature for the water at Greystones, County Wicklow, but it's so cold it hurts. Oh yeah, I go in the water, but resignedly, never happily. It's my family's fault.

We go through the same routine annually. The weather 'heats up' - hits 70F or so - and next thing, "Let's go for a swim" is being uttered enthusiastically. I run through a series of protests until my wife shoots me that 'for the children' look and I cave. Off I go towards my rendezvous with destiny all the while thinking dark thoughts about how those same children eat me out of house and home.

That was the situation yesterday. It was warm, the warmest day of our summer so far. I suspected I might hear the dreaded words, but the fact that two of our three children are away had me hopeful. I was wrong. Just when I should have been eating dinner I was making my way to the sea.

Once I get to the water's edge it always takes me a while to get in. Like I said, it's so cold it hurts, but this time even my wife thought it was cold, probably due to the fact that June was absolutely freezing. Yesterday took me longer than normal.

Bit by bit I got myself in. After each step along the way to submersion I waited til the pain gave way to numbness. Eventually my entire body was numb at which point I started to enjoy myself.

After a few minutes swimming and playing I exited the water only to realize that the sea breeze I'd noted on the walk down suddenly felt pretty sharp. The air temperature was around 65F. It was warm enough to defrost me so I could feel the pain again, but not warm enough to prevent the teeth-chattering, knee-knocking, shivering that lasts about 20 minutes.

On the plus side, the water is clean (far as I can tell). I mean, what self‑respecting germ or contaminant would be caught dead in such cold water? When the heat eventually makes its way back into your body you start to feel good about the swim, like you've accomplished something and you've experienced some form of natural beauty.

That thought keeps you going right up til the next warm day, when the dread sets in again. Is there no chance of rain today?

Are those icebergs out there?

I don't live too far from the coast, which is almost always a good thing. One time I question the benefits of our location is when we get nice weather, like we had today. The day was pleasant, probably got up to about 70. No stifling humidity and a fresh breeze. What could possibly be bad about that, right?

Well, my family likes swimming in the Irish Sea. And the Irish Sea is COLD. I've heard Americans refer to the waters off Maine as cold and maybe they're comparable. I don't know. I used to swim in the Atlantic on a regular basis, but off Long Island and the Jersey Shore and it was never anywhere near as cold as what I experienced today and every other time I've gone into the Irish Sea. I once scraped my leg in the water and I swear it was on a chunk of ice.

And I go through the same emotions every time. I park the car and as I walk along I say to myself, it looks so beautiful. It looks refreshing.

A quick check tells us that the EU's blue flag is flying, which means the place is clean. I think. Not sure what it means, really.

Everything's looking good, but looks can be deceiving. No, not that. It's clean all right and the next view is tremendous as well. But oh so telling.

The water is lapping at the shore and the beach is not too crowded, all of which is great. There aren't many people in the water, though, are there? Why? I'll tell you why - because all people - even Irish people - have come to realize that the Irish Sea is FREEZING.


My family doesn't seem to care about that.

We make it down to the beach and while I'm already chattering in anticipation of the cold, they're happily discussing the prospects of their pending death-defying plunge into icy waters.

We all head to the water's edge. More dread. They're in and I'm not. Not really. Up to my knees maybe.


I'm always the last one to get down. It's part of the ritual. You must get your head wet. I generally spend about 15 minutes psyching myself up (& making an Act of Contrition) before I finally force my head and shoulders down into the water. In that instant my breath is sucked from my body and I feel like I'm going into shock.

Less than a minute later - it takes me that long to regain consciousness - and I'm heading for dry land, where the fresh breeze now feels like a winter's gale. But I'm alive and I think to myself that by August I'll almost think this is normal.
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Comments:

nygalwaygirl wrote:
Oh my goodness! This sounds dreadful! You should tell your family that you need to mind your ticker and should be excused on medical grounds... Irish people are like seals, with a secret insulating layer that the rest of us are missing... Invest in a wet suit or give up the whole deal, I say!
6/26/2009 8:15 PM EDT

TheYank wrote:
A wet suit? A great idea, but not one I'd be allowed. And if I start complaining about my "ticker" I'll almost certainly be forced to abandon all those foods that make life worth living. Besides they know I've recently been checked out and given an all-clear. No, I don't think my ticker is going to cut it.

What's worse is that there are people here who swim all year round. And we have friends who go swimming pretty much daily from St. Patrick's Day to Nov. 1. They're nuts, I know, but to my family their behavior is a bit extreme and only serves to emphasize how sensible our attitude is.

I've been looking for a good excuse for ten years and haven't found one yet. I guess I can live in hope that someday my ticker will be plausible.
6/27/2009 3:46 AM EDT