The Save Saltdean Lido Campaign is running a competition to find the best photographs of the lido to include in a fundraising calendar. Entrants are invited to submit their photos of Saltdean Lido (the interior or exterior) with shortlisted winners forming part of an exclusive 'Friends of Saltdean Lido 2011' calendar. There will be 12 winners, 1 photo per month, with an overall winner announced, whose photograph will appear on the front cover of the calendar.

The calendar competition will be judged by Conran & Partners, Sir Terence Conran's architecture and design practice, with whom the campaign group are already working.  Conran & Partners and the campaign group are developing alternative proposals to save the Lido complex and plans are underway for a series of public consultations in September (dates yet to be announced).

Saltdean Lido, an art deco Grade II Listed building situated on the outskirts of Brighton, was threatened with closure and redevelopment earlier in the year.

The lease owner has yet to submit plans to Brighton & Hove Council but initial proposals included filling in the swimming pool, partial demolition and redevelopment to include a building with possibly 5 new levels containing over 100 flats.

The Save Saltdean Lido campaign group quickly formed and has gone from strength to strength, undertaking various initiatives including a recent application to English Heritage asking for a review of the current listing, upgrading it to Grade ll* in recognition of its importance and the threat to its future.

Save Saltdean Lido Campaign spokesperson, Rebecca Crook, says; "We've had such interest in the campaign not only locally but nationally we thought the competition was a great way to involve people, raise awareness of the campaign and help with fundraising."

Conran & Partners' Director Paul Zara comments: "Possibly the UK's finest lido, we must do all we can to secure its future and prevent inappropriate redevelopment. It's an important part of our heritage. Go and see it, swim in it (I have!) and photograph it."

 The deadline for entrants entries is mid-day on the 3rd September 2010.  Entry is free but limited to a maximum of 3 photos per entrant.  The application form, details of how to enter and terms and conditions are available on the website www.saltdeanlidocampaign.org.

The last functioning lido in Wales will stay closed this summer.  Sally Wainman, a pool campaigner and freelance journalist, reports. 

It is  school holiday time in the summer of 2010 and, by rights, the Brynaman Pool in Carmarthenshire should be open for the enjoyment of visitors and tourists and resounding with the happy cries of local children. This year, however, the last working lido in Wales will stand silent and empty, because just nine days before the expected opening date Carmarthenshire County Council suddenly announced that repairs in the region of £20,000 were needed. This was money the Council just did not have, they claimed; the severe winter weather had taken its toll on the lido and therefore repairs and maintenance were far greater than normal.

The Brynaman Swimming Pool Association were devastated: why hadn't the Council flagged up this dire situation earlier? Why hadn't they been given the chance to fundraise or apply for grants if urgent repairs were needed?  Why had the Council allowed them to proceed with their annual clean up if the pool was to stay closed?

The Council's version of events is not entirely clear: in some of the press coverage they say that they had only recently discovered that the state of the pool was far worse than they realized, but their Press Officer told me that the pool had been surveyed back in February or March and therefore Carmarthenshire County Council did have time to both reassess the situation and alert the Pool Association to the need for fundraising action.

The  Council  would normally be spending £2000 - £3000 per annum anyway on the pool and the BSPA offered an additional £5,000, so only a further £12,000 was needed. The cries of poverty coming from the Council are very hard to believe because their purse strings seem considerably looser when it comes to matters of "spin" and self promotion. For example, the Council's 'free' paper, the bi-monthly, self congratulatory Community News costs £138,00 per annum  and was described by one disgruntled resident as 'chip wrapping'.  The BBC's Watchdog programme revealed in May that the Council's chauffeuring costs were over £12,000 and this was just for the lease car; the driver's wages were in addition; so it is hardly comforting to know that the County Council prioritises the chauffeuring of the favoured few over the repair of a community pool.

It is impossible to over-emphasise the commitment that the Brynaman people feel towards the pool; it was paid for and built by local miners in the 1930's, opening its turnstiles for the first time on 11th August 1934. It has therefore been part of that community for nearly 80 years. The Brynaman Swimming Pool Association run the pool every year, seven days a week, with the Council providing just the lifeguard cover. The Council view the pool as a facility that's "only open six weeks a year"; the people say it's something into which they put their heart and soul.

Not so 'Hunky Dory'

In a further twist to the pool's closure this year, a quite different group of people also feel greatly let down. This is the film company who were planning to use Brynaman Pool for location filming for "Hunky Dory" in early August!  The producer of "Hunky Dory" is Jon Finn, who was also the producer of the film Billy Elliot and the director is Marc Evans. Marc is a Welsh born film director (he was actually born in Carmarthen) and his films include My Little Eye, Trauma and Snow Cake.

I find it utterly unbelievable that Carmarthenshire County Council are by-passing this golden opportunity to showcase local Welsh talent: singers, musicians, actors etc., put Brynaman on the map in a most positive way and give the last Welsh lido the chance of being  encapsulated in film history.

Promises, promises

The Council claim that the Brynaman Lido isn't closed as such, it simply isn't open this year (!) and they have already told pool campaigners that it will be open next year.

I feel distinctly sceptical about these honeyed words. The most likely scenario is that Carmarthenshire County Council will seek the decimation of the pool by simply moving the goalposts: if the BSPA raise the £20,000 the Council will discover further needs until the estimates for Brynaman's survival have neatly tripled or quadrupled. I hope this will not be the case, of course, but no-one in Brynaman should be holding their breath waiting for the pool to re-open in 2011. I therefore throw down a challenge to the County Council to ensure now that the pool really will open again and to match words with actions.

Sally Wainman  (Pool campaigner and free lance journalist),
July 2010

Times columnist Matthew Parris recently swam across the Thames in the early hours of the morning.  We have reproduced his account of the event from the Times below:

First, don't try this at home. It could have ended in disaster. It was ignorant and it was dangerous.

But it was not impetuous. I have been thinking, talking, and finally fretting about swimming across the River Thames for 15 years since, in my forties, I moved into a flat on Narrow Street in the East End of London, looking out over the river at Limehouse Reach. I watched 20ft tides racing up and down the river. Swans, cormorants, traffic cones and sometimes corpses floated by. Barges, sailing ships, warships, cruise liners, disco boats and police launches buzzed, roared or chugged past my balcony, day and night.

Except at my favourite time. In the small hours of the morning the river is silent, alone with itself, slapping and sucking at the foreshore beneath my balcony. This would be the time to swim across, with no shipping and nobody to raise an alarm.

I'm no great swimmer, but I can stay afloat. I would make my crossing in high summer when the water was warmest, and at high tide, as it turned. I would start from the stairs at Globe Wharf on the other side and swim straight across to the Ratcliff Cross stairs at Narrow Street.

And I would do it without a boat or any kind of flotation in tow, because otherwise it isn't real. I started telling friends of my plan.

But somehow I never got around to executing it. The years passed I turned 50, then 55. Friends would yawn as I insisted that I'd do it. Sometimes someone would say: "How about tonight?" and I'd be momentarily keen, then reflect that the tide wasn't right, I needed to be fresh for the morning ... or whatever.

Sometimes, on warm days I'd test the temperature. Fine. So was I getting cold feet? The talk continued, however the plans for how the lodger Tom would flash a light on the balcony across the river so I'd know the coast was clear ... oh yes, this would surely happen. But somehow never tonight, never this month, never this year. The deferral was becoming Chekhovian.

In a couple of weeks I shall turn 61.

London has been hot. Online tide tables said that there would be high tides, midweek, in the small hours. My partner (fiercely opposed) was away.

"Come on," I thought. "Do it." I told Jonathan, an LSE student who's working for me. "I'll come too," he said. High tide, 03.35 on Thursday morning. Tom would be there on balcony duty. Supper, a few hours' sleep, then ... Astonishing, how fearful I then became. How had I got myself into this? Why hadn't I kept my mouth shut? Now I understood the subliminal reason I'd never done it before. All that thinking about it and boasting about it had scared me. At You can lose heart easily and quickly in fast-flowing water midnight, as I lay my head on the pillow, at first sleep would not come.

It's being woken in the dark that's worst. I donned trunks and an old singlet to swim in, and some discardable flip-flops. We stood on the balcony. The river was very black. We called a minicab just after 3am to take us under the nearby Rotherhithe Tunnel to the other side. We crept down the Globe Stairs wordlessly, so as not to alert any flat-dwellers, and undressed. Each wondered if he'd be going ahead if it wasn't for the other.

But from my balcony came no flashing light. Could Tom not see us? A big barge slid past, heading (surprisingly fast) upstream Then my balcony light flashed. We struck out for the other side.

There's a kind of relief, once you start. The water was choppy but not too cold, and I could feel no current. We swam silently, breaststroke, surprised at the ease. Except that across the water, perspectives were altering unaccountably. Then I saw trees moving behind the buildings on the other side. Why? When I turned to look for Globe Stairs behind us, they were far over to our right. We were being carried upstream. Fast. The tide was still coming in. Fast.

We decided to stay close together, not to fight the current, and keep swimming towards the opposite bank hard work now in the choppy water. I saw a flashing blue light moving towards us from our left. "River Police!" I hissed. No, a light on a buoy, and we were being swept towards it.

Soon we were almost past the King Edward VII Park, and approaching Wapping. In the first glimmer of dawn we saw sailing dinghies, moored offshore. Jonathan managed to grab a rope, and I a rudder.

We were breathless, and getting cold. We could see the stilts of a riverside boardwalk some way away, near the Prospect of Whitby pub in Wapping. If we could just reach those stilts before being swept farther ... we struck out. Jonathan, at 20 the stronger swimmer, did it easily. I just did it, and in doing so, understood how easily and quickly you can lose heart in fast-flowing cold water. We pulled our way round to a little creek, plunged across and climbed a high iron ladder on to a road. We had been in the water for perhaps half an hour.

For a moment I felt weak and shaky, my balance thrown, and began to shiver. We were about three-quarters of a mile upriver from Limehouse. The park was locked. No way home, but up on to a big road, the Highway, back from the river. We were barefoot, and Jonathan in only skimpy underpants. "Let's run," he said.

We flew, pounding the pavements barefoot, I feeling strangely lightheaded, my normal limp gone. It was like a dream. My brain raced. GMT! Navigational tables are in GMT! High tide would have been at 04.35, not 03.35. We pounded on. A passing man, jumped, frightened, away.

And soon we were in Narrow Street, ringing the doorbell. "You disappeared," said Tom. "We saw you go in, then nothing." He hadn't called the police: "What could they do? I doubted you'd drowned."

I stopped shivering. The shower (so much mud!) was sublime. The sweet tea was nectar. The sleep was heavenly.

But it was the waking up on Thursday that felt transfigurative. Yes! I did it! I can do it. And I'll never have to do it again.

Among the participants at the Padstow to Rock swim last weekend, in aid of Macmillan Cancer Care, was chef Rick Stein, who runs several restaurants in Padstow.  Rick is a keen outdoor swimmer and answered some questions from the OSS about the event and the role swimming plays in his life. 

For how many years have you been participating in the Padstow to Rock swim?

Two.

Do you swim in the sea, lakes or rivers anywhere else? 

Yes, I'm a member of the Serpentine Swimming Club in Hyde Park and I swim at Balmoral beach in Sydney when I'm over there.

Did you train for the swim?

I swim every day anyway.

Was the tide problematic or did you know what to expect?

I knew what to expect and the organisers judge the tides very well.

Any particularly memorable experiences on this swim or past swims?

Having only done two swims like this I find trying to swim with a mass of people around you quite daunting, but then when we're all getting into the water the camaraderie is great.

What especially do you like about the Padstow to Rock swim?

It's local, raising money for a very good cause, Macmillan Cancer Care, and there's a beer and a pasty at the other side.

What especially do you like about swimming in general?

I find that an early morning swim sets me up for the day.

Jonathan Knott, July 2010

Susie Parr on her experiences swimming outdoors at Port Eliot

 Whenever I am walking by rivers, lakes or the sea, I feel compelled to look for somewhere to swim. I know exactly what I like: clear, calm water; easy access to depth; and beautiful, wild surroundings that I can admire as I float about. If I find a place that meets those conditions I quickly assess potential problems. Are there weeds or obstructions? Does the water seem clean? What about tides, currents, waves and winds? If it feels safe and inviting, then I will always go in. If I am not sure on any point, my confidence plummets.

This is because, for me, swimming is usually a solitary pursuit. My partner can't swim and is baffled by my compulsion to get into water, especially when it is freezing cold. He has learned to tolerate the interruptions to our walks and sits resignedly on the shore, a bemused expression on his face. In these circumstances my swims are brief, almost embarrassed, as I wonder if I really am behaving as eccentrically as he seems to think.

Five years ago, we attended the Port Eliot festival for the first time. The festival is set in the grounds of the fabulously dilapidated stately home of Peregrine and Catherine Eliot in the village of St Germans in Cornwall. We arrived on a Friday afternoon in July, hot and sticky after slogging down the motorway. It was a relief to follow the shady pathways between rhododendrons and to sniff the cool river smell as we walked down through the estate to the boat-house on the banks of the Tamar.

I could see the estuary gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight, curving under the magnificent viaduct that carries the railway line to St Germans station (amazingly still going strong). I had no idea what to expect, but was hoping for deep, clear water and a gravelly beach. As we got closer I could see that the tide was rising and that each bank was pasted with thick, slick, taupe-coloured mud. The water looked like hot chocolate, brown, with swirls of powdery residue eddying round as the level slowly rose.

I was dismayed. Even the little stone slipway led straight into thick mud. I had no idea about the depth of the mud. I wasn't sure about the strength or height of the tide, and I knew nothing of possible currents. A few festival-goers were wandering along the river-side path, and a couple lay under trees in the shade, reading and dozing. But no-one else looked as if they were contemplating a swim and I didn't have the courage to try on my own. The idea was abandoned.

How different it was this weekend! The festival has grown, attracting several thousand people (although it still seems charmingly small and intimate). I knew that a wild swim was being organised for the next day, so hurried down to the boat house in order to sign up. As I approached, I could hear shrieks of laughter and I saw around ten people bathing in the middle of the river, a couple of women swimming upstream and others changing on the bank. It was high tide and the festival river lido was open for business.

Near the slipway, the Outdoor Swimming Society stand was crowded with people. I asked someone wearing a swimming costume about the easiest place to get in and was pointed in the direction of a good spot and reassured about the current. I followed a young couple in, watching closely as their feet sank into mud and they pushed themselves away from the grassy bank, laughing and chatting.

I slid gently into the water, now knowing what to expect underfoot, and made my way across to the point where brown silk changed to grey silk, then on upstream. I had a long, peaceful swim, luxuriating in the cool on my skin, then floated for a while looking at the trees on the hillside leading up to the estate, contemplating the pieces of river art along the banks and catching drifts of music from the different venues.

As I swam back to shore, I watched people getting out at different spots, some with relative ease, others floundering and slipping as they tried to stand up in the mud. I manoeuvred myself towards a large rectangular stone that bordered the slipway and pulled myself out, surprised to see only the slightest trace of mud on one of my feet and feeling as if I had indulged in an expensive spa treatment.

The information and the companionship of other swimmers allowed me to enter the water with calm and confidence and enjoy the festival from a new vantage point, one I shall seek out again. The next day, over 400 swimmers took to the water in the OSS River Lido, establishing muddy wild swimming as an un-missable part of the Port Eliot experience.

Susie Parr, July 2010

On 24th July the OSS held a temporary River Lido at Port Eliot Festival, which came and went with the tide. Almost 500 people came, with Martin Parr snapping, Jarvis Cocker talking about it on the radio, and a flock of brightly coloured hats temporarily reclaiming the river. This is a reproduction of the piece written the day before by Kate Rew for the Port Eliot newspaper

It's 5pm Friday night at Port Eliot and the day long wait for the water to open is almost over. The tide has crept in, covering the mud flats and filling the channel.  The river - small this year from the low rains - has met the sea, mingling warm and cold, freshwater and brackish. We put on our swimming costumes and take a step in.

Anna and Alexandra, our juvenile depth testers aged about seven and eight, are already in and charting the best entry route for Saturday's swimmers. The water is warm, brown. It's a disjointed sort of treat, a skew wiff pleasure. The mud contains itself under some kind of membrane so each submerged foot becomes encased in it's own mud shoe. A & A are young enough not to have to define the elevated spirits they are experiencing, to think about where they are on the spectrum from joy to revulsion. They squeal and shriek. Anna flicks up a clot of seaweed, a bladder rack monster from the unseen depths with her toe.

Kari, 60, an unsung hero of the new wild swim movement for her ability to chart iconic swims, is less impressed by the froth on the water, a thin brown mineral silt.  'Do I need goggles?' asks a swimmer. 'I'd take what you can to protect every orifice,' says Kari. We make our way past the mineral froth and we're off, into the water.

It's warm, welcoming, the hot summer and low rains elevating the waters of Britain to unfamiliar temperatures. We get in without gasps and breaststroke across the channel to the reed beds opposite.

There is some kind of illicit joy that comes from swimming outdoors, a renegade joy. Dark storm clouds over the hills contrast the bright sun illuminating the cornfields and our faces. My memory map of where the river is has gone, and I swim varyingly over deep patches and knee nudgingly shallow water.

More swimmers set off for the opposite shore, a strange procession in bright hats backstroking across the river with 2 metre poles and flags flying high in midstream. We are like some odd kind of explorers setting off to claim the land.

Tomorrow we'll be taking over the river, a collective of wild swimmers bobbing around at slack water on the high tide. The Outdoor Swimming Society aim is to return people to their inland water, to encourage more people to swim free. People don't need us to swim, there is largely nothing to stop anyone getting in, except some kind of need for someone to give them 'permission'. Some of what we do is spiritual, emotional - encouraging people beyond their fears. Some of it is political, securing clearer access rights for swimmers in England and Wales.

Some of it is just sharing the joy:  by 5pm Friday over 400 people had signed up to our Saturday River Lido to be part of this strange experience of temporarily owning this stretch of water, like a migrating flock of aquatic festival goers.

A fish jumps. The river is vast and wide, a horizontal expanse. We have the glorious free feeling of leaving the festival, isolating ourselves from everything going on on the banks and looking back on it.

We wade around the marsh, stepping chest deep in muddy water between the islands, warm in the sun.

'It's like the old days,' says John, 'everyone having fun.' We chart our small pocket of wilderness on the opposite bank, hammering in our flags, and set back off for festival land. Revived, restored, simple and new.

We loiter about and towel off as the sea starts to retreat again. Swimmers come down to the water and look out at the mud, and the day long wait returns for the water to open.

Kate Rew, July 2010

Gain clearer inland access for water users in Wales.

Want your natural right to swim outdoors in beautiful places to be legally enshrined in Wales? Then write to your MP or Welsh Assembly members. You can find your MP here: http://findyourmp.parliament.uk/, and your Welsh Assembly member here: http://www.assemblywales.org/memhome/member-search.htm.

Here's a possible standard letter that will speed up that process:

Dear MP/ Assembly member

You may be aware law about Inland Access is different in England and Wales than it is in Scotland.

As a wild swimmer I think it's confused and it'd be a great asset to Wales to give clearer legal access to inland waterways.

Swimming outdoors benefits peoples health and happiness, and should be no different to walking, hiking, cycling, climbing, sea swimming or anything else that people are free to do in the great outdoors. As a wild swimmer I am happy to take responsibility for myself in open water, and only seek free access to water.

I understand Inland Access will be under review again in September, and the current recommendation that access is given to canoeists via voluntary access agreements.

Voluntary access does not work for swimmers who, I understand, are a larger group of water users in Wales than either canoeists or anglers - 27% of the Welsh population recently stated that they swam wild.

As a keen individual swimmer, who gains many health and mental health benefits from swimming outdoors, and likes to do so with children/friends/family, it is not a viable option for me to set up individual access agreements as I swim around Wales. I believe voluntary access agreements will decrease the amount of swimming that goes on, and threatens the natural wild swimming that has always happened in welsh towns and countryside - few parents and responsible citizen want to feel like they might be breaking the law every time I go for a dip.

I have neither the capacity, time or knowledge to find out and contact landowners to ask if I can go for a swim.

Also, more crucially, by asking for their permission to swim, I would be implying that they have to take some legal responsibility for my safety as I do so, which almost forces them to say no.

I understand that Pembrokeshire and Brecon Beacon national parks, as well as the Forestry Commission, are frustrated that they can not give clearer access to swimmers in their managed areas as they can not get landowners to agree to access. If they can't, what chance do I have?

Another Canoeists and anglers both have funded organizations that can deal with this kind of paperwork (however fruitlessly) but swimmers, who are far more numerous in your constituency, do not have this facility. As a result of this their position in the debate is not being heard, and their interests are not protected.

As my MP/ Assembly member, I ask that you do this for me.

I believe the right to swim should be legally enshrined, so that I have the same access to our fantastic countryside as hikers, climbers and cyclists, and so that we can continue to enjoy and benefit from Wales fantastic natural water, and Wales in general can continue to enjoy and benefit from the health benefits and tourism income that comes from free access to our great outdoors.

Yours sincerely

A swimmer

THE SHORT VERSION

We think you have a natural right to swim in inland waters. Fight for it! Write to your MP if you're in Wales, recruit more Welsh friends and more friends to OSS network generally if you're not, send map@outdoorswimmingsociety.com any Welsh swims you know now to show it's popularity. The bigger our numbers, the louder our voice.

Inland Access is being debated in Wales currently, so the next month is crucial. If swimmers get a clear right to swim in Wales, as they have in Scotland, England will be next. Woo-hoo! Swim on.

If you're rich & busy, please think of donating ££ or personnel to the OSS to make waves on this issue over the next crucial month.

THE LONG VERSION

In Scotland, there is a clear right to swim, that comes with the right to roam. In England and Wales, the law is grey - in some areas (eg navigable rivers, or those where there has historically always been wild swimming) you have a clear right to swim, in others, it's less certain. Whoever owns the riverbank, owns half the riverbed, but no one, in law, actually owns the water. Fishing clubs may own the fish, but not the water they swim in. As long as you don't trespass on your way in or out you are not breaking the law, but neither does the law explicitly give you the right to get in that water - so if a landowner wanted to take you to court for swimming, it is unclear who would win.

This legal muddle is one of the reasons why swimming is in decline and why inland beaches (where swimming happens freely) and riverbank clubs and lake clubs are largely extinct. Large numbers of the population often think that swimming is not 'allowed' and that they need someone to give them 'permission' to go swimming.

The legal situation is also one of the reasons why many councils and land owners feel that it is their duty and responsibility to put up no swimming signs and try and forbid people getting into the water (in case they become legally liable for what happens in the water), rather than let swimmers enjoy the water as freely as they do mountains, footpaths, hills and other areas of publically accessibly land. As a result of it, swimming - until the last few years - was in serious decline.

We would like clearer access rights for swimmers, and this is close to being a reality in Wales, who have been discussing an Inland Access bill for some time. (It is further away in England, but will, we hope, come in time).

This is an exciting time in history, but we (as in we, water lovers everywhere, members of OSS or not) need your help.

1. If you live in Wales, please write to your MP saying that you support greater inland access to water, and why (health, happiness, need for free activity). To us swimming outdoors should be our right: people are free to swim in the seas, to climb the mountains, to hurl themselves into the air, to hike to places they can die of exposure, to cycle etc: to us they have the same natural right to swim in inland waters.

You can find a blueprint letter on this site.

Aside from our rights, there are a multitude of reasons why greater access to wild swimming will benefit Wales and it's population, and why you think the Welsh Assembly will benefit if they enshrine that right. For example, boosting health and happiness in the population, drawing in tourism, saving costs on the NHS ( many people who hate gyms, love swimming, and for the overweight swimming is often one of the only viable exercises to take) and giving people the contact with nature that makes them more likely to be environmentally sound citizens and help keep waterways clean. You can find out who your MP is http://findyourmp.parliament.uk/ .

Feel free to quote some statistics from our recent survey of members which shows some of the health :

• 83% of swimmers said it made them happier, less stressed and more energetic.
• 77% liked the connection with nature and their local countryside.
• 74% found it was a tonic for a low mood - and that they swam to counter anxiety, stress and depression.

(OSS member survey, Spring 2010, 1500 members surveyed).

3. Get some friends who like swimming to sign up to our free newsletter on www.outdoorswimmingsociety.com . We currently have over 8500 members, but the more we have, the louder our voice when we come to deal with relevant agencies. In Wales the debate has become polarised between anglers and fisherman, but some recent research revealed that far larger numbers of people - 27% - were swimming. so it's important that we, and the Welsh Wild Swimmers Association and Rivers and Lake Swimming Association, get together to have a voice in this debate over the next 5 weeks.

4. Particularly get anyone you know in wales to join our OSS database and enter their Welsh county - we often send regional emails out to people, and will be sending more to those in wales we hope in the next few weeks.

5. Do something to draw attention to this issue! Write to your newspaper, create a local stunt, have a social swim in Wales and invite the media (our press officers will help you if they can).

6. If you've swum anywhere in Wales and liked it, email map@outdoorswimmingsociety.com NOW and tell Adam about it so he can put it on the map. The more places we can put up, the more we can show how people do love to swim in this country. 

7. Help us continue the good work. If you can volunteer to run a campaign over the next month, please do, or perhaps you could donate enough for us to hire someone on a freelance basis to do a chunk of media and awareness work. If you can do something it could have a lasting impact on swimmers everywhere - please write to me if you can help.

If we get the right to swim in wales, other benefits will come from it. Our experience is that we are at a tipping point: in just a few years outdoor swimming has gone from being little talked about to general consciousness. Many government agencies, media groups, councils and activity providers who would like to publically allow swimming, who know it's good for peoples health, weight, spirits and life joy, but remain scared of permitting it, and therefore either forbid it or are scared to work with the OSS and other related groups like the Rivers and Lake Swimming Association to provide more free inland beaches, or allow more river clubs, as exist in other European countries.

Many thanks

Kate Rew & the OSS

You can swim the simple way - get in, get wet, get out, drink tea. Or you can engage in the mindfulness of swimming.

Some thoughts on meditation and swimming from Kate Rew, written prior to the OSS Silent Swim in Oxford on 17th July 2010.  

"The OSS is full of lovers of mindful swimming: the magical power that outdoor water has to immerse you completely in the glory of the present moment.  It's not something swimmers talk about, it's not something we strive to experience, it just something that happens.

 You get in as a person with everyday worries, you get out as a person who is happy and free (as long as you don't take constant social chit chat or driven intentions to swim faster, further or get colder in with you). All you need is enough mental space to stop, take a breath, register the transition from land to water, and start swimming.

This is what Saturday's Silent Swim is all about: consciously appreciating a little bit of that transcendent power of water and air, and mentally capturing the transition so we can take it home with us and tap into it at a later date.

 As part of the Oxford Symposium on the Culture of Rowing and Swimming someone asked me what swimming meant to me. For me, swimming exists on all sorts of levels - it's about physicality, community, spirituality, freedom of expression. It's sport, an adventure, a religion, a philosophy and a type of therapy.

But for me, most of all, swimming is about a mental, emotional, almost spiritual transition. Some swims are about high spirits; the swims come about spontaneously, a group celebration of being alive. Some days they're about the basic animal need to move and to be outside. Other days there's the endurance quality, the quiet butting up against your own limits. Feet deaden in the cold, muscles become unwilling, life is pared down to you and what you have to do to keep alive.

But whether shrieking with cold shock with hundreds of others or breaststroking across a sunbright tarn with just one, there is always a meditativeness about swimming, a mindfulness, that puts me in the present.

When I swim outside thoughts come but float by. I do not attach to them. I do not think them. The "I" that is observing them is sat somewhere far behind the I that stresses or strives, gets excited or cries.

This is the essence of mindfulness. A certain detachment from the emotions. An understanding that they will pass. An understanding that you are there, somewhere, behind the waterfall of your thoughts and emotions, watching them, but you are not them and they are not you.

All it takes for this transition - away from the constructs of our personalities and social characters, the emotional maelstrom and the tedium that can hit our lives, to a deeper core - is one breath, the breath you take when you get into the water and take a moment to register where you are, the transition from water to air. And then you're there. Bang, In the moment. Sky above. Limbs floating. The sound of bird song. Pollen on the water. The joy of being alive.

On Saturday we'll be keying into various stages of ourselves and our surroundings: the  breath, sensations (to register we are floating, to key into the feeling of the water and floating, to be in our bodies), sounds (to tune into the lapping of the water, the sound of birds, breathing, other swimmers), sights, thoughts (to appreciate where we are).

And at the end, we'll get out - and go home feeling, we hope, more of ourselves.

Perhaps it is overblowing it, but in some way I think the vocabulary of wild swimming belays many a quiet life philosophy. Every time we take a step into the water we are, in a little or big way, embracing experience, joy and the unknown in our lives. When we swim we "jump in", we "take the plunge", we are buoyant, we are immersed in the experience, we go with the flow. In all of this there is an embracing of life, a surrendering to the elements. Our act of faith is crossing the boundary and moving into a medium that is bigger than us, an element that we can not control. The people who do this, who make this their practise, understand something quite deep about themselves, the world, and each other.

People always ask 'do I have a favourite swim?' and seem dissatisfied when I say no. But it's this mindfulness that makes that choice impossible. Each swim is an act of devotion. Each is perfect. It doesn't matter if I'm in a foul weather lake with cold waves slapping against my forehead or basking in a crystal clear stream warmed by the sun, they are all real experiences and fabulous for it. Perhaps we can rate locations but for me, never actual swims. They are all perfect in their own way.

So yes. Swimming to me, is an adventure. A sport. A philosophy. But also a religion to which I am devoted. Two parts H, one part O, and a large part mystery. There's a meditativeness to many repetitive outdoor activities that I have harnessed all my life - skiing, running, rowing - and there's mindfulness that I have practised long and hard at on my mat. But with swimming that mindfulness comes to you like a gift.

And so I devote myself to it. Practise it. Live by some evangelical desire to keep spreading the joy and the word. Keeping stepping across the border into the water. My own personal way to embrace life. My own act of faith.

Jump in and join me! See you Saturday...

Kate Rew, 16th July 2010 

 Miles Doubleday, who attended the OSS Silent Swim - part swim, part meditation, part performance - writes on swimming as art.

Silent Swim

Kate Rew, 2010 summer

 Meet at a secret location.

Put on your swimming costume or wetsuit.  Wear a bright swim hat.

Sit in silence for ten minutes.

Try to remain silent for the duration of the piece.

Follow your guide down the riverbank.

Wade into the water and swim back to where you started from.

It's a conundrum.  How to take a private passion and perform it in public?  For, in public, it becomes a performance.  Artists know about this.  They call it a situation, "a unique set of conditions produced in both space and time and ranging across material, social, political and economic relations".  They've been doing it for half a century now.

Pea Piece

Yoko Ono, 1960 winter

Carry a bag of peas.

Leave a pea wherever you go.

Ono's pieces are sometimes what a scientist would call a "thought experiment" - instructions to be considered rather than necessarily performed.  Yet other artists assert that experience is key:

I View Art as Something Vast

Tony Smith, 1966

[...] When I was teaching at Cooper Union in the first year or two of the 1960s, someone told me how I could get onto the unfinished New Jersey Turnpike.  I took three students and drove them somewhere in the Meadows to New Brunswick.  It was a dark night and there were no lights or shoulder markers, lines, railings or anything at all except the dark pavement moving through the landscape of the flats, rimmed by hills in the distance, but punctuated by stacks, towers, fumes and coloured lights.  This drive was a revealing experience.  The road and much of the landscape was artificial, and yet it couldn't be called a work of art.  On the other hand, it did something for me that art had never done.  At first I didn't know what it was, but its effect was to liberate me from many of the views I had had about art.  It seemed that there had been a reality there which had not had any expression in art.  The experience on the road was something mapped out but not socially recognized.  I thought to myself, it ought to be clear that's the end of art.  Most painting looks pretty pictorial after that.  There is no way you can frame it, you just have to experience it. [...]

Around sixty people took part in Kate Rew's Silent Swim early this morning, an event with surprising similarities to Smith's drive on the unfinished turnpike.  Other people observed from the banks, but the piece was best understood by those taking part.  Here's how I experienced it - other participants' experiences may vary.

Sitting in the non-silence of the wind in the trees; taking your place in the procession of near naked people along the riverbank; turning a corner into a woody copse, ahead of you the sound of bodies meeting water.  Wading in at the shallow beach, your feet sinking into the surprisingly warm mud.  Pushing off, trying to avoid everyone else, and then finding your own space in the river - a river that you and your fellow swimmers have made their own, as is confirmed by sculling on your back and watching the bobbing swim hats like alien fruit floating on the water.

We spread out further; to observers we remain a group, yet each individual is in their own space, sometimes responding to the environment - the swooping of a red kite above the trees, a boathouse shrouded in gothic darkness, and sometimes to the other swimmers - am I slipping behind, and does this matter?

All too soon we are back where we started, helping each other out of the water.  It occurs to nobody to swim on further; each of us has obediently followed the instructions we were given, a tacit acknowledgement of the contract we have entered into.

Afterwards, as we dry ourselves we discuss our experiences, and discover that our common cause extends beyond river swimming.  A huge motor cruiser passes: "Have you guys been swimming in the river?  You must be crazy!"  A man sat by me mutters "You have to be crazy to have a boat like that.  Some people, they make a million, all they can think about is the next ten million."  I fall into conversation with a woman who works for the local city council and turns out to have funded an arts event I participated in last year.  She has no problem with seeing today's activity as part of the same spectrum, yet she struggles to convince her co-workers of the myriad ways in which art and culture are woven into everyone's daily life.

"Culture is everything you don't have to do" - Brian Eno

Kate Rew, who devised today's swim, did not see it as a work of art at all.  Kate is a passionate evangelist for outdoor swimming, and the event we've just participated in is for her simply part of a broader effort to get the rest of us to love the thing that she loves so much.  Maybe as a consequence of the event being part of a symposium on the Culture of Rowing and Swimming organised by Oxford Brookes University, my daughter Katie and I had mistakenly assumed that we were participating in a piece of performance art, and judged the experience accordingly.   

In order to reframe today's event as an Onoesque piece of instructional art, I omitted two elements which were, from an artistic perspective, minor flaws.  The initial ten minute silence was in fact a meditation led by a volunteer from the nearby Brahma Kumaris retreat centre, and as we swum down the river we passed signs on the bank with labels such as BREATH, SENSATIONS, THOUGHTS.  Both of these, while obviously well intended, felt intrusive rather than helpful, unnecessary additions to what was otherwise a magical experience.  They had a didacticism that an experienced artist would have avoided.  But this was not conceived as a work of art - was the didacticism perhaps appropriate?

I discussed this point with Kate Rew afterwards.  Kate explained that at a recent moonlight swim she ran into the problem of participants merrily chatting away with each other as they swam, as though the event were merely the continuation of a West London dinner party by other means.  The silent swim's ground rules and reminders were an attempt to stop this happening again, and in this they succeeded.  I acknowledged that maybe I was wrong, and that people do need a bit more hand-holding to avoid the event spinning out of control.

My daughter and continued the discussion on the cycle ride home.  Both of us are used to devising and performing pieces that derive from a specific set of instructions, and have learnt from experience that a key to their success lies in the framing of the instructions: as well as being simple, clear and to the point, they should tell people what they are to do, not what they are supposed to think or feel while they are doing it.  In other words, the artist requests a specific behaviour from the participants. 

Great art has always known that its greatness lies in showing, not the telling.  At first, instruction-based art appears to break that rule, for what are instructions if not a telling?  But the instructions are really a form of showing, as they merely lead the participants to a particular situation, just as a gallery might lead you to a particular painting.  What happens next is up to you. 

Out of Place

Adam Chodzko, 2000

[...] My art is not just about looking, but about looking for something; searching for something that is missing at present.  This notion of 'looking for' takes place partly in public space but also in interior space: the imagination of the inhabitants of that public space.  As an example, a public space could simply be a network of people who all happened to dream two nights ago about a fox.  They do not know each other, nor do they know that each shared the same elements in a dream. [...]

We now live in a world in which web-based social networking tools enable members of Chodzko's public spaces to find each other using nothing more than a hash tag.  The goals of art and the goals of people like Kate Rew, who use these tools to nurture such public networks, are to me indistinguishable.  It follows, therefore, that in devising events of this nature there is much that can be learnt from the thoughts and practice of situational artists.  Whether or not you choose to call it art is immaterial; it is the experience that we remember.

Back cover of Situation, ed. Clair Doherty, Documents of Contemporary Art (2009)

Yoko Ono, Grapefruit.  Sphere (1971)

Tony Smith, from interview with Samuel Wagstaff, Artforum, vol. 5. no. 4 (December 1966), quoted in Situation, op. cit.

quoted in Taking Modern Culture by Strategy, an interview with Mark Sinker, The Wire 104, October 1992

Adam Chodzko, extract from 'Out of Place' in John Carson and Susannah Silver, eds.  Out of the Bubble: Approaches to 'Contextual Practice' (London: The London Institute and Central Saint Martins College of Art and Design, 2000), revised by the artist in Situation, op. cit.

 Miles Doubleday, 17 July 2010

We all know swimming makes you hungry, but knowing what to eat and when can be tricky.  Eat too much beforehand and you will feel lethargic and risk getting cramp, eat too little and you'll deprive your body of the energy it needs.  On longer swims you'll also have to know what you can eat and drink in the water.  And how do you best aid recovery after a long swim?

With the summer open water swimming season now fully underway, the OSS has consulted some top swimmers and nutrition experts to see what they had to say on the matter. 

1 mile swims

1 mile swims are among the most popular mass swimming events and are many people's first introduction to open water.  Alex Popple, a performance nutritionist with the English Institute of Sport who works with British Swimming, advises increasing carbohydrate intake the day before the event:

'You can do this by increasing your portion sizes at main meals by an extra serving (i.e. 1 tablespoon of cooked pasta, 1 slice of bread, or 1-2 new potatoes). This will help you fill up your muscle carbohydrate stores (glycogen), which will ensure you have enough fuel for the whole swim.'

2-3 hours before the swim, he recommends eating a medium-large meal of slowly absorbed carbohydrates (such as porridge, lentils, whole wheat pasta, or sweet potato), to provide a steady release of energy throughout the swim. 

Ensuring a sufficient fluid intake is also vital, especially in hot weather.  Try to drink 100-150 ml of water every twenty minutes leading up to the event (at least 2-3 hours beforehand).  Urine colour is a good indicator of hydration - it should be almost clear.   A darker colour is evidence that you're not drinking enough. 

Colin Hill, who runs the British Gas Great Swim series, says 'Before a mile swim, you have to look at all the factors.  If it's a blazing hot day, try and stay in the shade, keep cool and drink regularly throughout the day.'

He advises not making major changes to the diet on the day of a big swim:

'To suddenly start taking power gels and energy drinks that you've never tried before could well make you feel sick.  You should have some food in your tummy and be well (but not over) hydrated.  All common sense, but if you are rushing around on the day, it's amazing what you forget to do.'

Long swims

Longer swims (such as 10k or channel swims) use up a lot of energy and carbohydrate intake should be increased earlier.  2-3 days before the swim, increase your carb intake at mealtimes (as described for the mile swims above), adding extra carbohydrate snacks throughout the day and when training.  These could be crumpets, cereal bars, carbohydrate sports drinks, or carbohydrate gels (for example SIS GO Gels).  This 'carb loading' may result in some short term weight gain, but you'll return to normal after the event. 

2-3 hours before the swim, eat a slowly absorbed carbohydrate meal (as above), together a with carbohydrate sports drink (for example Lucozade Hydroactive Plus) that includes electrolytes such as sodium and potassium.  Aim for approximately 1 L of sports drink over the last 2 hours before the event.  This will ensure you start in a hydrated state (there may be limited opportunities to rehydrate during the swim). 

During long swims you will need to take on fluid and carbohydrates during the event.  Alex Popple recommends approximately 100ml of water for every kilometre swum, and a carbohydrate gel for every hour in the water. 

Specialised sports drinks and energy gels are an essential part of the long distance swimmer's diet. Maxim energy mix is a traditional favourite of channel swimmers, and SIS gel is also used. On longer swims some swimmers also consume an electrolyte drink.  Most swimmers also combine these with 'real food'.  Easily digestible foods such as bites of banana, jelly babies, soup and mini rolls are popular snacks during long swims, consumed at intervals of half an hour to an hour. 

Recovery

After swimming (particularly long distances) it is essential to rehydrate (replacing fluids lost through sweating), to replenish glycogen in the muscles, and to repair muscles damaged by continuous stroke repetitions. 

It is important to refuel in the twenty minutes immediately following a long swim.  Try to consume a mixture of carbohydrate (to replenish glycogen) and protein (to begin repairing muscles).  A range of specialised recovery drinks are available (such as the 'For Goodness Shakes' brand), providing a roughly 3:1 carbohydrate-protein mix.  Everyday milkshakes such as Frijj and Mars Refuel contain a similar ratio, and many swimmers believe they work just as well. 

Other good post swim carbohydrate sources are pure fruit juice, cereal bars, and sandwiches (fill these with egg, fish or meat to add protein). 

1-2 hours afterwards, eat a larger meal combining plenty of carbohydrates with protein and vitamins and minerals. 

To work out how much fluid you have lost during the swim, weigh yourself before and after the swim.  1kg of weight is equal to 1L of fluid. Drink 1.5 times the amount of fluid lost to fully rehydrate (i.e. for 1kg of weight lost drink 1.5L of fluid.)

Jonathan Knott, July 2010

Outdoor swimming is exploding on a global scale, Colin Hill reports from the 2010 open water swimming global conference in Long Beach, California. 

Is the UK alone in experiencing a surge in outdoor swimming?

Are there other swims similar to the Great Swim Series?

When Steven Munatones from www.thewaterisopen.com contacted me about speaking at the first ever Global Open Water Swimming Conference I was happy.  When I found it it was in Long Beach California, I was ecstatic.

Long Beach, home of the Beach Boys - a short drive in distance (but a long time in traffic) from LA Airport was also host to the USA 10k open water Championships.  This was a qualifying event for the World Champs and would take place in the old Olympic rowing course.

The conference proved how outdoor swimming is exploding on a global scale on three levels:

1. Elite, competitive
2. Commercial - swimming events such as Great Swim in the UK
3. Independent outdoor swimming, from Channel swimmers to recreational swimming such as the OSS.

My talk was about the British Gas Great Swim Series and how in three years we now have 20,000 swimmers taking part in televised events along side elites.  Following my talk was the Cayman Islands swim which looked unbelievably beautiful.  Also attending were swim events from New Zealand, Cayman Islands, Brazil, New York, Alaska, Las Vegas, Acapulco, San Fran, Hawaii, South Africa and Long Beach itself. 

There were also some swimming legends on hand to motivate everyone about the joys of swimming - such as  Penny Lee Dean (fastest woman to cross the English Channel), Philip Rush (record for 2 way and 3 way English Crossing and Cook Strait) and Shelley Taylor-Smith (7 times World Open Water Champion).

Having attended the Conference I realised that I could quite happily spend the rest of my life travelling the world swimming and that I'd be welcomed in most countries that I went to - as open water swimming is facing a revolution on many levels that has never been experienced before, and we are all part of that.  It's an exciting time to be involved in outdoor swimming and I intend to visit as many swim spots in the UK and abroad as possible.

Thank you Long Beach, and I hope to be back soon to once again plunge headfirst into the surf by Manhattan Pier. 

Colin Hill, July 2010

Wild swimming in the river Avon will form part of the Chippenham river festival on the weekend of the 28th-29th August 2010. 

Held in Monkton Park, this will be the second river festival following a successful event last year attended by an estimated 3,000. 

The family swimming event will be held at 3pm on Sunday 29th August and is free for participants.

The river Avon is a slow flowing river, with a clean, firm river bed which will have been cleaned of any debris by the Calne sub-Aqua club.  The depth is approximately 9ft in most places, reaching a maximum of 11 ft.  The water quality is good (see http://www.environment-agency.gov.uk/homeandleisure/37811.aspx)

Location: River Avon, Chippenham Wilts SN15 3JP
Car parking: The Olympiad, Bath Road Car park and Emery Gate (all very close)

Other attractions include food stalls, lots of entertainment both on and off the river including: raft racing, canoeing, Red Devils, guided walks, extreme bungee trampoline, boat parade, plus lots for the family.

See website for more details: www.chippenhamriverfestival.co.uk

The organisers need to know how many people from the OSS can come for the 3 pm swim on the 29th, so can all those wanting to come please e-mail info@chippenhamriverfestival.co.uk

A great deal of confusion surrounds the issue of swimming in reservoirs.  On the one hand, many reservoirs have watersports centres, and hold mass swims and triathlons. (This year Roadford Reservoir in Devon holds the One Mile Swim, Wimbleball in Somerset holds the Ironman 70.3, and Alton Water Reservoir recently held the Great East Swim.)  And in Scotland the right to swim extends to reservoirs.

On the other hand, most British and Welsh reservoirs explicitly ban swimming and advertise it as dangerous. Wary of the contradiction, one water authority, United Utilities, has now banned swimming in any water owned by the company  (As a result, the 2010 UK ironman will not take place in Appleton Reservoir, Bolton, as it did last year.)

Banning all reservoir swimming is one way to stop being contradictory - but there is another: tell people the truth.

Our belief is that people won't stop swimming outdoors, so the key to avoiding tragic deaths is by giving them good information so they can take care of themselves and manage their own risks.

We believe mixing good information with misleading and scaremongering safety information may be counter-productive: the public, sensing deception, ignore all the safety advice, rather than taking heed of the bits that matter.

So we have looked at the five main reasons we could find given for not swimming in reservoirs, to sift the hyperbole from the facts. 

But firstly, there is one clear reason not to swim in many of them: it's illegal. While the right to swim in Scotland is extended to reservoirs, in England and Wales swimming (outside of events) is almost universally banned. Whether that's fair or right, and whether authorities who promote all other kinds of watersports on their reservoirs should permit swimming, for the health and activity levels of the population, is another question - but given few of us wild swimmers are seeking aggravation, swimming in rivers and lakes where it is permitted sounds like an easier way to enjoy your summer.

So here, the truth about reservoir risks: 

1. Depth and temperature. "the water rarely gets above freezing"

Some manmade reservoirs are deeper, and hence colder, than other open water.  This increases the risks of outdoor swimming - getting too cold is the reason for most swimming fatalities, as swimmers arms and legs weaken as they chill. 

(Click here for OSS advice on cold water acclimatisation.)

However, the coldness of reservoirs is often exaggerated.  The United Utilities website, for example, says that 'the temperatures in reservoirs rarely get above freezing, even in summer' - which is clearly nonsense.  

(Open water events are not permitted to be held in water below 12.5 degrees c, but are often held in reservoirs.)

It is also worth noticing there are exceptions to this rule. Some 'reservoirs' are almost indistinguishable from natural lakes.

2. Exit points: swimmers unable to get out

In some places reservoirs have steep sides, and there have, allegedly, been instances of people jumping into reservoirs on hot days, not realising they  can't climb up the man made sides and get out. 

In places where this is true, a reservoir will clearly be more dangerous to swim in than a lake.

3. Operating machinery: suction pumps and unpredictable currents

Reservoirs are the first stage in the water purification process, and perhaps the most ominous sounding issue around reservoir swimming is the machinery which is used to carry out this process. 

This is often the area in which water companies play up the possible dangers most, talking about unpredictable currents and suction pipes. Yorkshire Water, for example, say that 'strong currents lurk beneath the surface, particularly if water is being taken out through massive pipes' and United Utilities that 'there may be hidden obstacles beneath the surface...this may be machinery from our treatment works or even broken glass or other rubbish.'

We have found little evidence of accidents where the alleged dangers of currents or machinery have played a role.  One watersports centre on a reservoir (when asked how it was safe for people to swim at events, and sail, windsurf and kayak year round) pointed out that these activities were always supervised and participants wore buoyancy aids, and had rescue boats and trained staff on hand.  They were not aware of any machinery in the water, with the exception of the valve tower.

We are keen to hear from anyone who can clarify this issue. It clearly will be true that swimmers could get into difficulty by dams and water outlets.  

4.  Algae: "water toxic"

Blue-green algae has been cited as a reason not to swim in reservoirs, and is featured on some water authority signs banning swimming. 

As a separate article on the OSS site explains (see below in the news section or click here to download a pdf), blue-green algae is mildly toxic and should be avoided by swimmers. It  occurs in lakes as well, and is generally only present in still sunny conditions, if at all and should not normally present an in surmountable problem. 

5. Water Purity: swimmers pollute drinking water

One of the most audacious reasons given for banning swimming in reservoirs is that it would pollute the water.

This does not seem to hold as a legitimate reason to ban swimming in reservoirs.  Many reservoirs which ban swimming are happy to allow boats and other water craft on the water.  And many reservoirs that ban individuals swimming, allow hundreds of swimmers in them for Ironmen, triathlons and mass swims.

Jonathan Knott, July 2010

OSS regional rep Sarah Tunnicliffe on training so far...

I have been getting bubbles of excitement in my stomach each time I think about our Channel Relay swim - which is very often, heck I even dream about swimming now!

Over the last month the team, which includes fellow OSS team members Tom Reed and Bryn Dymott, have all been training hard swimming outside as frequently as possible - much to the dismay of family members who aren't seeing much of us at the moment! On Sunday 30 May we were able to combine an OSS social swim at Mepal Lake with completing our two-hour qualifying swim for the relay, and the company and support from fellow OSS swimmers was great.

For me, one of the good parts of training over the last two months has been increasing the amount of sea swimming that I've been able to do. At the start of May I headed down to Dover Harbour for the start of the swimming season with a fresh water temperature of around 10C. Thankfully, the water is a lot warmer now and I've recently been able to swim for four hours over the course of a morning. This has been great for making friends with Neptune and a great crowd of swimmers, along with dispelling any anxiety that I might have been harbouring. Seeing such a dedicated and motivated bunch of swimmers head off into the water to swim for hours at a time in Dover is very inspiring, and I already foresee plans of future sea swims developing after this challenge.

The team have all been really touched by the support and generosity of people who've sponsored us so far. We've still got a little way to go until we reach the £6,000 needed so would welcome any further support people. Our donations page for Kent Air Ambulance can be found at: www.justgiving.com/6swansaswimming.

The good news for anyone wanting to support and monitor our progress across the Channel is that our escort boat Anastasia has a GPS tracker onboard. Simply go to www.ais-doversstraits.co.uk on Monday 5 July (weather permitting for our crossing) and then select the boat name to see the course and our location.

We hope to have one final team meeting and then we'll be getting our bags ready for the call to head to Dover. So wish us well on our crossing, I'm sure that I'll want to spray mental fixative on my memories of the swim and will cherish sharing the experience for a long time to come.

Sarah Tunnicliffe, July 2010

Sir Walter Raleigh said 'There are two things scarce matched in the Universe - the sun in heaven and the Thames on earth.'

There are few rivers in the world that can rival the Thames for a sense of place or history. 

While the river is perhaps most famous for flowing past the landmarks of central London, it begins in Gloucestershire and passes through miles of beautiful countryside in that county and Oxfordshire before reaching the city. 

The non-tidal part of the river (above Teddington lock) is clean and provides many ideal locations for a summer wild swim (As OSS members found out on a recent social swim). 

OSS team member Michael Worthington has compiled a detailed guide to swimming the Thames (available from the OSS shop), which breaks the whole non-tidal river down into manageable swims.  It is designed as a 'collect all the stickers' project that can be completed in parts and when it suits. 

It is set out as a log book so you can record when and with whom you did each swim.

Michael featured in a Financial Times article at the weekend.  The writer describes a swim down the river:

'The temperature is cool, not cold, and the current nudges us gently downstream, away from the drone of traffic and the unnerving rush of water over the weir.  A grebe surfaces a few metres from us, stares intently before ducking back under and emerging at what he considers a safer distance. A coot hurries her chicks into the bank as we approach.'

'I ♥ the Thames', by Michael Worthington, is available from the OSS shop for £15. 

Jeremy Holt first became interested in outdoor swimming doing river and lake crossings in the Army 30 years ago.  He now teaches water survival techniques on survival weekends for the Duke of Edinburgh's Award.  Below, he outlines six key principles of water survival, which he has learned through his own swimming experience.

Sometimes I think that I am lucky to be walking about.  This article explains some of the reasons why.

If this article helps one person to assess one risk in a more knowledgeable way then it will have served its purpose. 

1. I was 7 or 8 and could not yet swim.  I was on holiday with my parents in Cornwall and I was playing on the beach at Mullion Cove.  I decided to see how far I could walk into the sea keeping my mouth above the level of the water.  I got about as far as I thought and then took one further step.  I do not know whether there was a small wave or if I had stepped off a small sandbank but my feet no longer touched the bottom.  I panicked and all seemed to go black.  The next thing that I remember is being laid on the beach and coughing constantly.  I found out later that once I had started to thrash in the water a man on a lilo nearby, as well as my father who ran into the sea, saved me from drowning.

LESSON NO 1 - NEVER GO ANY FURTHER THAN YOU ARE CONFIDENT ABOUT BEING ABLE TO GET BACK SAFELY.

2. Years later I joined a Territorial Army unit that specialised in behind the lines activity.  Consequently, we were expected to be able to cross rivers and lakes on our own without any assistance.  During training we walked through the night in patrols of four and then at dawn we assembled at the edge of a lake.  It had been a cold night and the lake was covered in ice.  Two things surprised me when I got to the lake.  The first was a man standing upright in a rowing boat dropping an oar on the ice trying to break it.  At the time this struck me as a rather fruitless activity.  Then I noticed that a number of other people who had got there earlier than me were starting to strip off.  It suddenly dawned on me that we were going to be expected to make rafts by tying four of our rucksacks together and then to swim naked across the lake which was largely covered by ice.  At that time, I had had no experience of swimming in ice-covered water and rapidly came to the conclusion that I was going to die.  When I shared my thought with a number of the others who were there already there they did not seem in the least bit interested.  Eventually, I concluded that if everyone else was going to do it then I had better do so as well (that is the way that the Army works).  Once we had made our raft I got into the lake naked and swam (rapidly) to the other side. 

LESSON NO 2 - EVERYONE IS CAPABLE OF A LOT MORE THAN THEY THINK THAT THEY CAN DO.

3. Later I married and I went on honeymoon to Thailand.  The second week of our honeymoon was spent on Phuket beside the sea.  Each day I went swimming.  A short distance away from one end of the beach was a tropical island.  This was uninhabited and I was really tempted to try to swim out to the island to see what it was like.  Each day I considered this but what held me back was that there would be no-one to help me if I got into difficulty and I thought that it was rather unfair on my wife for her to be widowed on our honeymoon.  I never went.  Looking back on it, I am really glad that I did not attempt to do this because I now know that there were probably quite strong currents between the mainland and the island and I could easily have got into difficulty.

LESSON NO 3 - IF YOU THINK IT IS GOING TO BE DODGY, DON'T GO.

4. A couple of years later I was staying with my parents on the Dorset coast and old school friend came to see me.  Andrew had served in a rival military unit to mine and although it was November we both went for a swim in the sea.  He got out after ten minutes and I thought that I would show how strong I was by staying in for a further twenty.  I then got to the edge of the sea and tried to dry myself and get dressed.  One of the most frightening things that has ever happened to me in my life then followed, in that my limbs were completely refusing to carry out any of the instructions that my brain was sending to them.  I realised immediately that I was suffering from hypothermia.  Fortunately, Andrew wrapped me in a towel and bundled me into his car and drove back to my parent's house about a mile away.  My mother ran a warm (but not hot) bath and they dumped me in it.  I was then able to regain use of my limbs.  I often wonder what would have happened if Andrew had not been with me.

(Although this is a fairly grim episode I have tried to turn it for the good because for the last twenty years as a hobby I have run survival weekends for youngsters in Wiltshire.  I tell them this story against myself as a graphic example of how hypothermia can creep up on you unawares and by the time that you realised it, it is too late to do anything about it.  I hope that some of these youngsters remember the story.  I have done everything I can do share the experience with them.)

LESSON NO 4 - ALWAYS, ALWAYS BE AWARE OF HYPOTHERMIA AND TRY NEVER TO SWIM ON YOUR OWN IF IT IS PARTICULARLY COLD.

5. Years later my wife and I were on holiday in Scotland near a loch with a jetty in it.  Each morning before breakfast I would go to the jetty, quickly explain to the boatman nearby what I was doing and then dive into the loch.  I was interested to see what happened to my body as this was extremely cold water.  In case you do not already know, you go white initially as the blood drains away from your skin and then you go lobster red a few minutes as the blood returns to your skin.  I had not asked the boatman to look out for me but I am sure that he did. 

LESSON NO 5 - ALWAYS TELL PEOPLE WHERE YOU ARE GOING (EVEN IF IT JUST MEANS LEAVING A NOTE) AND ENLIST THE AID OF ANYONE ELSE WHO MAY BE AROUND WATCHING WHAT YOU ARE DOING (from time to time I swim in the Serpentine and I am always reluctant to get in unless there is at least one other person on the bank watching what is happening)

6. My wife and I were staying at a Landmark Trust property near Southampton water.  There was a buoy some distance out from the coast and I was tempted to swim out to have a look at it.  I asked the man who ran the ice-cream stall whether this was a good idea and he strongly recommended me not to do that.  I said that I had wanted to go for a long swim and he said that I should copy what the local swimming club did, which was to go a short distance out from the edge of the coast and then to swim along the coast.  This struck me as a bright idea and I have followed this since.

LESSON NO 6 - YOU DO NOT NEED TO GO FAR OUT TO GO FOR A LONG SWIM.  IT IS PERFECTLY POSSIBLE TO HAVE A LONG SWIM KEEPING CLOSE TO THE EDGE OF THE SEA OR A LAKE IN CASE YOU GET INTO DIFFICULTY.

Jeremy Holt, June 2010

jeremyh@clarkholt.com

This summer, a new series of plays based on Britain's lidos will be put on at lidos across the country.  Listed Lido, created by the Listed Theatre company, is based on true stories surrounding the legacy of these stunning art-deco public pools and the swimmers who use them. 

Premiering at Peterborough Lido during the Peterborough Festival, Listed Lido will tour to Crown Pools in Ipswich and Tooting Bec Lido,London, before wrapping up the run at Ilkley Lido in North Yorkshire, throughout June and July.

 Jessica Manley, producer of Listed Lido, said:

"In April 2009 Listed Theatre began work to develop a performance piece, exploring and celebrating the history of Broomhill Pool, a derelict lido in Ipswich, Suffolk and the current campaign to save it.  Out of this work grew a research project which led us to discover the rich legacy of lidos nationwide.

We collected fascinating stories about how these lidos remained open during the blitz, were witness to the first ever bikinis, saw generations of teenagers showing off on the diving boards (now banned due to new health and safety regulations!), and trained swimmers to cross the channel.

It is this cross section of society that Listed Lido brings to life, whilst documenting the battles to save our beloved lidos, which are currently raging across the country.  It is so important that we save these lido's which are valuable urban oases, fusing the ideals of democracy with inspiring architecture."

Tickets £10 (£6 concessions) available at www.listedtheatre.com

Or call 07576 169 620 for same day bookings.

The growing popularity of lidos among the public has been evident in recent good news for lido campaigns across the UK.

The Save Saltdean lido campaign recently announced that it would be working with Conran & Partners, the architectural practice of Sir Terence Conran, to develop ideas for the regeneration and protection of the historic site. Conran and Partners' previous projects include the refurbishment of the 1930s Embassy Court on Brighton Seafront and Michelin House, Boundary and Butler's Wharf in London.

Conran & Partners' Director Paul Zara described the lido as an 'icon for Saltdean, at the very heart of the community' and said 'we will do all we can to stop the developers and their wrecking balls.'

Save Saltdean Lido's Facebook group now numbers over 7,000. 

Reopenings

There was also good news for Lymington Seawater Baths, which reopened this year after staying shut in 2009.  The 90m x 30m unheated seawater pool is 176 years old and the second largest rectangular lido in the country.   It did not open last year but after hundreds of people signed a petition in support, work was carried out to the pool and it reopened earlier this month, following a delay. 

The Matlock Bath lido, in the grounds of the New Bath Hotel, has also opened this year after staying shut in 2009. 

And lido enthusiasts have welcomed the reopening of Uxbridge Lido outer London.  The pool was closed since 1998 but reopened as part of the new Hillingdon Leisure complex. 

Beccles lido is also set to open in July.  The pool's future was under threat in 2008 but supporters raised £200,000 towards costs of repair.  It has also received a grant of £140,000 from British Gas.

Campaigns continue

The campaign to save Broomhill Pool continues following the election campaign of Sally Wainman in Ipswich.  Sally received 70 votes in the closely fought Ipswich seat, keeping the pool campaign in the headlines.  The MP for neighbouring Central Suffolk and North Ipswich, Dr Daniel Poulter, has pledged his support for the Broomhill campaign. 

The King's Meadow baths in Reading opened its doors to the public for the first time in 35 years at the end of April.  "What a wonderful site" and "it's GOT to be restored" were among the comments received. 

Beccles Lido has been taken over by local enthusiasts after the local Council closed it last year. Currently in the thick of repair work, reopening is scheduled for early August, if not sooner. A fete will go ahead at the pool on 25 July regardless, with displays and demonstrations of water polo and swimming.

Upcoming events

Lidos will be among the sites open to the public during heritage open days in September. 

Hampton Pool, London, which is open 365 days a year, will be holding summer picnic concerts as part of an ongoing fundraising campaign. 

Jonathan Knott, June 2010

Wales is in hot competition with Scotland and Cumbria for having some of the best swimming in the country, and OSS members are cordially invited to a brand new event there on Friday 24th September, which will tie off a very busy summer season of swimming.

The Wales Swim is a 1500m and 3000m  sea swim that takes place at North Beach, Tenby, Pembrokeshire - the cleanest beach in the country. The swim is open to all entrants from beginners to competent athletes, and part of a 'Long Course Weekend' of sport which includes a sportive on the Saturday, which consists of a 40, 80 and 120 mile bike ride, and a marathon and half marathon the Sunday.

Plus, you'll be in the right next of the woods to cap the event off some wild swimming.

Entries cost £30 and Activity Wales are making a charitable donation of £5 to the OSS for every entry that comes from the society in support of our work, whether you're biking, running or swimming, so if you're going please quote OSS on your entry form. The more OSS swimmers who attend, the more we can put towards our map project, which will, in future years, carry thousands of places for you to swim on weekends away like this. 500 OSS bods in the area is their target for us..... !

To enter, see The Wales Swim.

Mexico's water-filled cenotes are superb swimming spots - but the beauty of outdoor swimming transcends any particular location, writes Kate Rew. 

There are no rivers on the Yucatán. The soft limestone ground swallows them whole. On a long, hot, humid day there are no streams in which to paddle your feet and provide relief. So it is a wonder to enter one of the many cenotes that drain the peninsula. These caves or sinkholes sit beneath a scratchy earth and hold hanging roots, protruding rocks and deep pools of turquoise water. They are magical, and the swimming endlessly refreshing, despite the mosquitoes...

It's past dawn in the English mountains. Past the time the birds woke up and sang in the thin air, past the time we rolled over in our tent and heard the hiss and static of mizzle against canvas. We are on the top of a Glaramara, next to a tarn and camped in a cloud. I yellow slug my boyfriend in my down sleeping bag and say 'shall we go for a swim?'

I am always like this: a missionary, a believer in the pagan redemption of a wild swim. We unzip and feel colder. The ground is soaking wet from its shroud; water squelches between our bare toes as we hop-scotch to High House tarn. We can talk freely and stand naked because there is no one else up here: not yesterday, not tomorrow.

This is not an obvious wild swim. There is no siren living on the round grey rocks in the middle of the peaty brown water, fringed by wet grass. There are no natural Jacuzzis, no clear waterfalls, no sun-baked rocks. But there's an essential celebration to swimming outdoors. Holidays are started and arrivals marked by the sheer act of stripping off and plunging in. In the water new worlds unfold.

Like many people, I used to be aware of the transformative powers of water when I travelled. In Mexico one Christmas a friend and I skipped through the bush on the Yucatán, high on youth and freedom, days spent drinking tequila and nights sleeping in hammocks. He had been living in Mérida since university, and heard about swimming holes in his pigeon Spanish from a guy in the carwash.

A border of high brush marked the edge of Tulum town, and we picked our way past the exhaust, dried pee and dust that had blown against the scrub. Out the other side in the bush we weaved along an unknown path amidst lower prickles, follow my leader one after the other, improbably looking for a hole in the ground.

'Jump!' said Beau, as we arrived. I stripped off to my bikini and leapt after him into my first cenote: a world I had not previously known even existed. And there, just below the dry earth and windblown detritus was a perfect clean freshwater underworld, a clear azure universe of stalactites and freshwater caves. We swam freely in the areas lit by sunshine, and nervously under the stalactites. We got out feeling new.

Then I discovered the same revelations happen at home. The transformative powers lie in natural water, not its location. In the Outer Hebrides, once past the smack and slap of purple cold in the sea, I find seals swimming with me. In the Oxfordshire countryside moonlit night swims in the silky river water are accompanied by the twinkling of drowned branches and the distant crunches of combine harvesters. It's the swimming that taps you into renewal, reveals the magic of the undiscovered nearby.

The swimming - and the action. The vocabulary of wild swimming belays a philosophy: we 'jump in', we 'take the plunge', we are buoyant, immersed in the experience, we go with the flow. In all of this there is an embracing of life and a surrendering to its uncontrollable elements.

Up in the lakes, I stand on the sidelines with goosebumps and dither my toes. I am always like this too: prone to hesitation. To a doubtful incredulous 'do I really want to?' just before I get in. The water is shallow, peaty brown, cold yet surprisingly warm, its black bottom having soaked up all the heat of previous days.

'The day was beautiful and it seemed to him that a long swim might enlarge and celebrate its beauty,' said John Cheever in his short story The Swimmer. And it's always a beautiful day when you go for a swim, I've discovered, so then I'm in. Head down, chest gasping, knees knocking against rock and water washing the sleep and yesterday's salt sweat from my eyes.

Floating on my back with the cloud parting and then obscuring the mountains.

'I am sure no adventurer nor discoverer ever lived who could not swim. Swimming cultivates imagination. This love of the unknown is the greatest of all the joys which swimming has for me' said long distance swimmer Annette Kellerman. We feel like that, as we float, in this wild little tarn. The water renews us. Redefines us. Makes us sturdy with cold.

And when we get out we feel more of ourselves. We have knocked against the element of the world. We are alive. We have swum.

Kate Rew, June 2010

The OSS map is a growing record of top swimming spots in the UK - but there are also many excellent locations for outdoor swimming beyond these shores. 

For some examples, see these recent articles in The Times and La Vie Cherie - which cover swimming in Finland, Morocco, the US and Burkina Faso, among other places.

Also see the OSS list of international open water events. 

We hope these act as inspiration for outdoor swimmers seeking out more global swims.  Let us know if you find any, and happy swimming!

OSS member Anna Wardley recently swam the Gibraltar Strait between Spain and Morocco as part 0f a series of swims to raise money for charity.  She describes her experience below.

I'm delighted to report that last Friday I successfully swam solo across the Gibraltar Strait from Spain to Morocco in just under six hours. I started the swim at 0714 local (0514 UT) at first light from the rocks surrounding the lighthouse on the Isla de Tarifa, the most southerly point in mainland Europe at 36 degrees North.

I'd been expecting to make my attempt to swim from Europe to Africa a couple of days later. Originally Rafael, who was coordinating my swim, told me it'd be likely that I'd be swimming on Sunday or Monday but he called us at our rented house on Thursday afternoon to inform us that we'd got the green light to go the following morning. Never has a poolside reading and sunbathing session come to such an abrupt end!

I swam in a NW Force 4 and the wind, waves and white horses built as I made my way across the busy Strait towards Africa. The sea was indigo blue and clear enough to see a ray gracefully swim below me within a few minutes of starting. If I was going to meet a whale en route, I'd certainly have a good view.

Although I swam just two days before neaps, the current flowing from the Atlantic into the Med was still strong meaning I had to really push to make it across. The pilots have logged the current running at up to 8km per hour in the Strait providing one of the biggest problems, especially for slower swimmers. I needed to get across as quickly as possible to avoid getting swept past Morocco and into the Med.

Within minutes of leaving the Spanish mainland, we were passed by some of the 300-plus cargo ships and ferries that pass through the Strait every day. My crew regularly broadcast our position and communicated to passing traffic to ensure that they altered their course if necessary. Usually this happened in good time, but occasionally they had problems making contact and they passed close enough for me to see the whites of the captain's eyes on the bridge.

In the middle of the Strait I looked up to see British sailor Dee Caffari's Open 60 pass within a few boat lengths en route to the Atlantic. Her boat is usually berthed where I live in Gosport and to see her bold AVIVA livery in the middle of the Straits was a huge surprise, but probably not quite as big a surprise as it was for them seeing a swimmer six miles offshore on a blustery Sunday morning!

As we entered Moroccan waters, things livened up as we were approached by a police launch and a sinister looking black RIB with the Moroccan Navy onboard. After almost running me down, they boarded my pilot boat and demanded to see our documentation and passports. Thankfully, the tension was relieved by some world-class diplomacy and ice cold Cokes and they escorted us right until the end of the swim around two hours later. As well as diverting local traffic as I surfed my way towards shore on the rolling waves, they cheered and took photos when I finished at Punta Leona at 1113 local (1314 UT).

Completing my solo Gibraltar Strait crossing means that I have now successfully completed all five of the swims I have attempted over the last 17 months including a Double Windermere and a solo cross Channel swim.

I've now swam from Europe to Asia in the Hellespont and from Europe to Africa so maybe I'll swim from Europe to the Americas next...watch this space!

I've now successfully swam all five of my Turning the Tide swims over the last 18 months to raise funds for the Samaritans, Toe in the Water and Sail Africa.

People's generosity so far has helped me to raise almost £25,000 and I am still determined to hit my target of £50,000. If you'd like to make a donation, log onto www.annawardley.com and click on the donate page to find out how to donate online or by cheque.

Anna Wardley, June 2010