So last week we headed out to Mersea Island, hoping from our internet research that we'd be able to swim just before high tide, then get the hell out of there before water covered the exit route and we'd be stuck. We landed on East Mersea in glorious late summer sunshine, and headed down to the shore surrounded by dog walkers and families with impossible amounts of children.
It didn't seem perfect, apart from the dogs and the children there was at least 50ft of mud to cross, and high tide wasn't until 11.30. Even then we weren't sure if it would be the best place to swim, not knowing how deep it would actually get. Not to be easily put off we did a tour of the area, determined we would get our swim...
Despite appearances this is about 2ft deep and full of duck weed. And probably duck wee too.
Photograph Eleanor Farrow
Well, we had a nice walk, but there was little chance of a swim anytime soon. From the banks of Mersea we looked across towards Brightlingsea, with it's pretty lines of beach huts, and faded ice cream stands, and made our decision. Back in the car, around the coast, to Brightlingsea!
Photograph Eleanor Farrow
It is gorgeous in Brightlingsea, I can see why it's a popular destination for bleary eyed Londoners. Again we had a bit of a snoop around, found our spot, and went off for some fish and chips. The tension was mounting a bit now, we had a situation where we were pretty sure we'd be okay after the sun had gone down, but we were essentially going to get naked in a town. As we wolfed down chips at our spot, we jumped at every voice heard in the distance, and every jogger who came past. By proper dusk, the people faded away, the chips were gone, and it was time to swim.
This is where the story takes a slight turn for the worse. Setting up the microphone on the sea shore, as I'd done for every other swim, in the dark I missed on of the locking devices on the leg of the tripod, and it collapsed effectively throwing the recorder in the sea. This, obviously, meant the rest of the swim, and all the following conversation, was lost. Which is a pity because at one point Becca said something along the lines of 'that swim was like magic', and it sounded like she actually meant it. So my swim was tinged with stress, and disappointment at what we were missing. However, the swim itself was like magic. By this time the stars were fully out in their thousands, and bio luminesce, which neither me nor Becca had swum in before, glittered around our hands and feet. And it was warm enough to stay in and enjoy the experience, and take in the sea and the air and the company, before dripping up the shore to our clothes. I have to say I don't think I've ever seen three people dress as quickly as we did when we heard the engines of some local youths driving towards us at speed! But we'd done it, and it was amazing. And I'll never forget it.
More on the recorder as it comes in, currently it's upside down in a bag of rice.....
