The Kissing Swimmers

JMWTurner: Sunrise with Sea Monsters

At first glance, I think they are some weird welded together two-headed sea monster. One in a no sleeved wetsuit, black and shiny. The other in a bikini ensemble, orange floaty attached. They look like one person, meshed together, bodies tight against each other, heads attached…oh! They’re kissing! Kissing swimmers! They stay in this embrace for a long time. It seems like 10 minutes, but must be only about a minute? I glance over at Ian, who grins at me.

            “Kissing swimmers,” I state the obvious.

            “Yes,” he winks.

            Maybe it’s a ritual before submerging in that cold bay water here at Keller Cove? The kissing warms them up? Or maybe they’re saying goodbye to each other? Who knows what dangers lurk in the bay? They may never come back?

            Or maybe they’re just horny. (I hate that word!! Isn’t there a better word? Maybe they’re just amorous!)

            In any case, they do finally part, turning toward the sea and heading into its embrace. I watch as they saunter down to the edge of the water. I can tell they’re serious swimmers. They’re athletes that are built for the cold. He’s in his wetsuit, so maybe he’s not a built as she is---and she is—tall and muscled and tan. I envy them their substance. I feel so small.

            Especially once I’m in the water myself. As I turn to swim on my back, I have to fight against the icy waves to follow the Kissing Swimmers. They’re way ahead of me, out of my sight. They’ll swim to the pylons for sure!

            Back on the beach, I know Ian is reveling in Crow Communication. We’d plopped down under a shady tree once we’d done staring at the Kissing Swimmers. A nosy crow had swooped down and was pecking near my stuff. “Watch out for That Crow!” a basking in the sun swimmer man yelled at us. “He’s mean!”

            “Oh, I think he’s cute,” Ian had exclaimed.

            I didn’t care. I just wanted to get prepped for the swim and get in the water.

Now, as I floated for a moment, I could see Ian’s red shirt on the shore. Evidently, the crow had lost its allure and Ian was being my ‘lifeguard’—I wish he’d come in with me! It’d be so fun! He would be cold, of course, but I think he’d like it. It’s so exhilarating, esp. the first time you take the plunge into the bay. I still get a little bit of this euphoria from my first-time swimming in the bay a few weeks ago. I just can’t believe I’m doing this!

            Today, as I follow the Kissing Swimmers, the water is tough and murky. It’s low tide and my hand brushes against long flowing seaweed. I shiver a bit more. Yes, from the cold, but also from the tingling slime that brushes against me. I like the ocean and its moving waves---lakes scare me. I’ll never forget the time I swam at Lake De Valle in Livermore, and when I swam out into the middle of the lake, huge slimy trees were submerged under the water. It seemed like they harbored all sorts of scary monsters! I didn’t last long swimming in this lake. Just too nightmarish!

            Today is a little like this, though as I swim out farther, the seaweed is deeper and doesn’t touch me. It must still be down there; I just can’t see more than a few feet in the brown murkiness. I swim parallel to the shore, for what seems like 30 minutes, and then turn around. My mask is leaking, probably from the choppy sea that pushes it off my face. And I’m getting cold. There’s a muscle in the back of my left arm that feels like it is getting tired even a little crampy.

            I head back. It’s easier going this direction. I revel in this ease. Feeling my body move through the water inspite of the cold. I almost run into a swimmer man. He sees me before I see him, waving at me. “Oh, sorry!” I stop for a moment. “I didn’t see you. Did you see me?”

            He grins, “Yeah, I saw you coming in on my right.”

            “Cool,” I beam. “Thanks for not crashing into me.”

            “No problem,” he says, before waving goodbye and heading out to sea.

            Really getting cold now, I turn and head toward the beacon that is Mr. Ian’s red shirt. But up ahead, I spy 3 swimmers, bobbing in the water, their orange hats attached to wet suited arms. I swim closer, “I like your orange head coverings!” I holler at them.

            They are treading water, smile and wave at me. “Thanks,” one of them answers.   

            “Do they keep you warm?”

            “Oh, yes!” they all call out, one of them I can see is quite elderly, her big smile encased in decades of sea sun wrinkles.

            “I need one!” I call out, beginning to turn to head back in.

            “Yes, you do!” one calls out to me.

            And as I emerge from the water, the sea weed soft now on my legs, I grin widely. Ian’s there with a towel. What a great swim caddy! “18 minutes!” he hollers at me. “Did you see my fingers? I was holding up two fingers to show that if you stayed in 2 more minutes, you’d make it to 20 minutes!”

            I shake my head, “No, I couldn’t see that.” I am shivering as we walk back to out spot. A strange man sits on the wall, staring and eating potato chips. The Crow has a chip in its beak.

            “I see Mr. Crow is having lunch,” I joke.

            “Yes, he was trying to eat the stuff in your bag!”

            I laugh. Happily, chilled and exhausted, lying down in the sun for a few minutes as Mr. Ian covers me up with another towel.

            Potato Chip man takes out a joint and lights it up. He has no mask on, obviously, with ingestion of both pot and chips. He’s still staring at us.

            “That guy is giving me the creeps,” I say to Ian.

            “Yeah,” Ian nods.

            “Let’s go,” I stand up and begin the process of the futile shake out of sand from the towels, cap, rash guard and leggings.

            On our way up the path to the showers, a woman stops us, “How’s the water?” she asks me.

            “Well, I was cold, but I’m not used to it yet.”

            “Ummm….” She nods, assessing me up and down. “It felt pretty warm out there yesterday.”

            “Really?” I can’t believe anyone would call that water warm! “Do you swim with a wetsuit or just in your skin?”
            She grins, proud. “Just my skin.”
            “Wow. How long do you stay in?”

            “35 minutes.”

            I shake my head, “I lasted 18 minutes today!” We both laugh as she starts to head down the path. “What’s the tide like?”

            “It’s low tide in about an hour,” Ian tells her.

            “Slack tide…” she nods, then turns and walks away.

            “Did she say Slack tide or Black Tide?” Ian asks.

             “I dunno,” I answer.

            “I can look it up on my phone,” he offers.

            “That’s okay, maybe later.” I wring out my stuff with his help. Glance down to the beach and see that the Kissing Couple are finally emerging from their swim. Man! They musta been out there for 45 minutes!

            Kissing helps with endurance, no doubt.

            Next time I’ll have to elicit Mr. Ian’s help with this.  I need all the endurance (and kisses!) I can get!