Swimming Buddy

Swimming Buddy

Damn it’s cold! Never mind, if I get in quickly and kept moving, I might escape hypothermia. Not so easy getting in today though. My usual quiet cove has been hit by a north easterly wind and the waves are significant.

Ug! Just got a face full of sea water. Well, flushing your nasal passages with salty water is supposed to be good for your sinuses. I just have to get out past these breakers. I enjoy swimming, that’s why I come down here every morning and brave the temperatures but I am no surfer. The waves seem to taunt me, reminding me that the ocean is a powerful being and I am a mere human.

As soon as it is deep enough, I dive in and begin stroking, seeking quieter water. Usually, the sea settles out where the shore drops away but today, the swells continue, even out past the confines of the cove. In fact, they seem to be getting bigger. I slide up one side and down the other as if I am on some sort of watery roller coaster. It’s kind of fun in a frightening sort of way. I never forget that I am no match for currents and tides.

Suddenly there is a loud splash right next to me. Treading water, I turn slowly in a circle. To my right a head pops up, so close that I could reach out my hand and tweak one of the whiskers. What a face! The eyes are huge, deep brown and staring right at me. The whiskers stand out wide on either side. I could stare at that face forever. I have never seen any thing more adorable. I want to give it a kiss.

Okay, I know that the seal weighs more than me and is a powerful creature that could flip his tail at me and break one of my bones. It could bite me – I’ve heard that seals bite people but I find that hard to believe. I hardly look like a fish and I’m not threatening a pup or encroaching on his territory. Unless, the seal thinks the cove is his territory. Oh, I’ve seen this fellow before, bottling up and down in the seaweed beds where the fish hide. Maybe he has demarcated this beach as his and I didn’t get the memo. We’ve crossed paths before, but always at a distance. I’ve never been this near, never had the seal as a swimming buddy. Is he trying to tell me something? Maybe it would be wise to head to shore and let Mr (or Mrs?) seal have the sea to himself.

It’s the getting back to the shore that is the problem. It’s one thing to battle our through the waves; it’s another to swim in with the current and risk being crashed into the sand. I have to time my strokes so I don’t end up battered.

The seal pops up again, almost at my shoulder. I wonder if he thinks I’m a cub. I am in a black wetsuit. Also, he must have noticed that my swimming skills are laughable compared to his. I remember reading that many young cubs are lost in winter storms as their aquatic abilities aren’t yet up to the challenge. This seal thinks I’m a baby. Well, next to him, I do look helpless. We rise up and down on a particularly high swell. I look behind me and see that the ocean is roughing up some more. I definitely need to get to shore.

I put my head down and start out with the crawl stroke but I can’t see where I am going. In the waves, it is easy to get pulled off course. I could end up on the rocks. I change to the breast stroke so I can navigate. My friend appears again, this time on the other side of me. He may have swum right under me – a bit disturbing but he hasn’t hurt me so far. I tread water, waiting to see where he will go next. He disappears. The water is murky so I cannot track his direction.

Suddenly, I feel something tapping at my toes. I whip my head around and see the seal, butting his nose against my feet. Is he going to bite me? I start swimming, as fast as I can, the seal following me. What does he want? Just then a wave rises behind me and crashes over my head. I come up for air, coughing out cove water.

The seal is beside me, his enormous eyes locked onto me. He looks worried. I might be anthropomorphizing but why else would he still be beside me? I doubt he knows how to do the kiss of life and probably he would rather I didn’t drown in his neighbourhood.  I have heard of dolphins helping swimmers but never a seal. However, this seal and I swim in the same cove nearly every day. We are, if not friends, acquaintances.  

We, and I do say ‘we’, as we are definitely swim buddies now, make our way through the waves. I keep looking back, doing my best to outswim the waves as they break. We rise up each swell together, I stroke madly, then we crash down the other side. The seal moves effortlessly, almost floating, while I exhaust myself. He is designed for this. I am not.

Finally, I can put my feet down. I hear a splash as my companion turns, content that I won’t drown. I start to drag my weary legs though the shallows but am forced into a jog to avoid one big breaker. It is with relief that I step onto dry land. My ordeal over, I take a deep breath and turn to scan the cove. He is gone. Probably fishing now that his babysitting duties are over.

It is cold. I peel off my wet suit and scrub my towel over my face and limbs and then, inside my dry coat, struggle out of my swim suit. How grateful I am for the warmth of the coat wrapped around me. I rinse my neoprene and hang it out over the railing on the promenade. Somewhere, out there, is a friend. A gull squawks as it dives after a fish. A cormorant opens its wings wide in an attempt to dry. A boat out past the cove bobs like an abandoned toy. And then, there he is, his head breaking the surface of the water. He balances there for some time and I lift my hand and wave to him. Ridiculous, I know, but I can’t help myself. Then he slips back down into the sea, almost as if he saw me.

I gather up my things and begin the walk home. I am quite an accomplished walker. I have two legs and use them well. But if I had a tail and flippers, what a swimmer I could be, almost as good as my swimming buddy.