Summer Swelter....Fall Pall...

Just a few scant weeks ago, in mid-July, Long Island was engulfed in a sweltering heat wave, with temperatures soaring well into the 90s one scorching day after another. Even the open water offered little relief, as it felt barely cooler than the still, stifling air -- even in the early morning. By week's-end many of us had shed our customary wetsuits in favor of bathing suits, the "ick" factor succumbing to the heat index....I found that my Speedo was definitely cooler than my sleeveless wetsuit, but its relatively loose fit was a veritable open door to a myriad of tiny sea creatures whose numbers had fulminated in the warm water, and their incessant nibbling was distracting and disconcerting. Not only that, but the gravitational pull of "the girls" was slowing me down even more than the lack of buoyancy, so by Saturday I'd switched over to my "technical suit" which, although far from flattering, wadded everything down so that I felt sleek as a seal.  The heavy rains that were forecast for the weekend never materialized and the relentless heat continued through the weekend, but a light westerly wind on Saturday, followed by an easterly wind on Sunday, drew off some of the surface heat so the water felt almost refreshing, but the weekend was still absurdly hot and the open water was the only sane place to be....

When the heat wave finally broke early in the following week, we rejoiced in what we mistakenly thought was a return to "normality," until Mother Nature --as she had with Hurricane Sandy -- abruptly reminded us that there is no "normal" anymore....We awakened mid-week to find, a'la Rip Van Winkle, that although we had gone to sleep in July, we had awakened in September...The air temperature had suddenly plummeted deep into the 60s, and "August" was but a ghost....

Even today, when the calendar said it was August 6th, the 56-degree air temperature said otherwise...and though it is technically only mid-summer, we swam as if we might not get another chance...

 

 

 

See you in the Salt -- unless it snows!

The Pathos of "Eos"

For years, "The Sailboat," whose sleek, towering mast is plainly visible from a distance even in rough seas, has been both a beacon and a favorite destination for the West Neck Pod in its northerly swims along the Causeway.  Its stylized image adorns the bathing caps of Pod members, whose message exhorts them to swim "To the Sailboat and Beyond..."  Indeed, achieving the first "Sailboat swim" marks a badge of honor for "newbies" and a season-opening milestone for returnees.  So when several weeks into the 2013 open-water-swimming season the Sailboat still had not taken its customary place off "the house at the end of the Causeway," and even its mooring ball was missing, the West Neck Pod was left disoriented and discomfited. With no Sailboat to sight on, swimmers zigged and zagged their way north to the "virtual-Sailboat," eventually assembling in a ragged cluster somewhere in front of the house....

That house -- still colloquially known as "the Billy Joel house" -- has always been a mystery to us swimmers, who see only the water and sky reflected in its blank windows...Its current inhabitants were unknown and unseen, and as we rested alongside their magnificent and -- as far as we could tell, little-used boat (since it was always there when we were!), we often wondered if they ever saw us out there and if so, what they thought about the fact that a dozen or more oddly coifed and -suited swimmers would regularly come stroking up the Causeway to loiter in their littoral back yard....

So when Sunday morning's pack of virtual-Sailboat swimmers converged in front of the house, tuckered out from a challenging swim northward against the incoming tide, we were shocked to see a woman's tiny figure waving to us from atop the seawall. Too far away for conversation, Susan Robinson and I quickly swam towards the narrow beach at the base of the wall, while the woman (to our alarm and consternation), commenced climbing down the rocks to meet us. She greeted us warmly and introduced herself, then "Cathy" told us the sad fate of her -- and our -- beloved Sailboat, "Eos II."  With the approach of Hurricane Sandy, the boat had been moved to a sheltered marina deeper in Oyster Bay where they thought it would be safer, but Sandy's high winds and violent seas tore the boat loose from its mooring and smashed it to smithereens....

Carol and Cathy getting acquainted

 

Susan, Karen, Eliana, Ken, Brandon & Margot at the "house at the end of the Causeway"

"Eos II"

 

Farewell, "Eos II"

 

Though the West Neck Pod is deeply saddened by the loss of "Eos II," we were heartened by Cathy's news that the "virtual-Sailboat" will soon be replaced by a real sailboat, as "Eos III" takes its place at the mooring alongside the "house at the end of the Causeway." But now, when we swim north "to the Sailboat," and look up at the windows of "the Billy Joel house," we'll smile and wave to our new friend within -- now an honorary member of the West Neck Pod!

 

See you in the Salt!





"Last Out, First In"...OWS Resumes After Hurricane Sandy

Rob Todd and I had the last pre-Hurricane Sandy OWS at West Neck Beach the day before the hurricane hit nearly two weeks ago....Post-hurricane power outages, gasoline shortages, and concerns about lingering storm debris kept the rest of the Pod out of the water until this morning, when, fittingly, it was Rob Todd who was the first back in, with an 8 a.m. post-Sandy solo buoy swim. I would have joined him, but my left hand is heavily bandaged after surgery last week and I can't swim until the stitches come out.  I couldn't even drive myself to the beach to see him off, and Carole was teaching an early morning yoga class and couldn't take me.  A few hours later, though, her class over, Carole trundled me and the dogs down to the beach in time to watch Gae Polisner and Annmarie-Kearney-Wood as they followed Rob into the Salt.  I hadn't been to West Neck Beach since the day after the hurricane, and the warmish air and brilliant sunshine, and even the salt-scented wind that blew steadily across the water, felt wonderful to me, even if I couldn't join my comrades in the water (which Rob had already warned us was "cold -- in the 40's for sure").  Annmarie was ready first, and I walked with her down to the water's edge, where I handed her my laser thermometer so she could check the water temperature.  Before we knew what was happening, Gae -- whose heat and electricity were only restored yesterday, and who was clearly suffering from an advanced case of cabin fever -- exuberantly tackled Annmarie, plunging them both -- and the thermometer --  into the salt water.  When Annmarie emerged, still clutching the now-dripping thermometer, its digital screen blinked crazily, and the number "39" flashed weakly for several moments before the screen went blank...But how cold was it?? As I had cautioned Annmarie just moments before her crazed companion tossed her into the drink, the thermometer is not waterproof, so the number "39" may have been merely the random output of an electronic device in its death throes and not an accurate reading of the actual water temperature.  The truth is, now we'll never know for sure how cold the water was today, for the first open-water swim since Hurricane Sandy...But there's one thing we do know: Hurricane Sandy has claimed another victim....See you in the Salt.

 

 

 

More cheerleaders arrive



Gae and Annmarie emerge cold but happy (How cold? Don't ask!)

Joye Brown, applauding our brave Polar Podders