Every morning in Wellington, MTAF readers Jo Hughes and Sue Orr and a group of friends meet at Balaena Bay, set down their plastic buckets, stow their towels and tops and footwear, wade into the goddamn freezing water, and swim, laughing and talking their way out to the buoy and back in; and back out again; and back in, and some of them a third time.
This morning I joined them because I have made a lot of noise in these newsletters about my plans to swim each morning and emulate the Octopus dude, a plan that seems to keep coming adrift.
This morning’s harbour was beautiful, the second can't beat it on a good day in a row. In went and sweet baby Jesus. It was really bloody cold. But off we went, steadily, and I chatted with Ngaire and with Jo and rounded the buoy and headed for home, unaware of the second and third time business. As I saw the first of them making their way back out, I asked, Wait, what now? and they explained the drill.
