My first experience Wild Swimming in 10 degree water & the benefits

I have always loved swimming, ever since I was a small child. But of course, growing up in the UK, that mostly meant splashing around in a public pool, which meant the smell of chlorine which I hated. As I got older, we started to go on holidays further and further afield. Whilst the beaches in Yorkshire and Lancashire didn’t exactly draw me towards the sea – quite the reverse with the biting wind and driving rain – both the north of France, Le Touquet (not Torquay) and then the south of France (Nice is indeed nice) started to change my view on beach swimming.

However, swimming in natural pools and wild rivers was still quite beyond my little horizon, even as a young teenager. Of course, I had heard of such things. There were quite a few old quarries close to my boyhood home, and no end to local legends of young boys diving into the pools on a hot summer’s day, never to come out, or to die shivering on the scorching banks. Quarry pools have their dangers, which are very real, and this was drilled heavily into us.

As I started to travel by myself as an adult, and active pursuits became more and more interesting to me, I started to connect with those who shared my swimming passion. In other, warmer, countries, swimming wild was more common. Of course, the temperature was not the only danger, strong currents, hidden rocks, and illusory depths, exist all around the world in natural waterways. But, the most obvious childhood fear, the one most drilled, was the cold.

So, it was hardly surprising that the first time I dove into a river was in the Redwood Forest in California. Even the north of that famous state is warmer in summer than in Britain. I was not alone, and was probably the last in the friend group to dip my toe into the river. To the amusement of my companions, I did so very gingerly, feeling with my toes for the depths and slipperiness of the submerged rocks (pebbles, mostly). After 20 minutes of paddling around, I got out… and dove straight back in.

It was a thrilling feeling, and one I repeated several times, diving, swimming, leaping out and diving in again. It felt fantastic to be out in the elements with clean natural spring water in my hair and just nature all around me. Maybe it’s a false memory, but I think I saw an eagle flying overhead as I just splashed freely around. I’d always enjoyed swimming, but swimming in the wild was a transformative experience. I’d never felt so close to nature.

So, wild swimming just became part of who I am. Not a ‘primary identity’ perhaps, it’s not how I’d introduce myself at parties, but it became a prime driver of my travels. Anywhere with a river, anywhere with a rock pool, anywhere I could get in water and get close to nature became irresistible. Even on a recent trip back home. Those old quarry pools, as cold as 10C? Done. Not alone, never alone, but many pleasures in life are best shared with friends.