Featured Post

My Quest to Visit Every Sydney Beach

The Australian beach. A social icon. With 85 per cent of us living by the coast, for many it represents a way of life. A part of our natio...

Sunday, March 3, 2019

Rose Bay (Percival Park & Dumaresq Reserve)


I climb reluctantly out of my slumber, my piercing head reminding me of last night’s beers. 6:30 am. It’s early for a Saturday. I down some muesli and pour a cup of tea down my throat. The caffeine starts to hit.

It’s my first ocean race - one kilometre around Rose Bay. Shallow, murky, and crowded with boats, it’s not normally a beach where you’d think to swim. Yet the prospect of a harbour swim further out underneath the city skyline has done well to entice me.

Source: https://www.sydneynewyearseve.com/vantage-points/rose-bay-foreshore/

I’ve been training strenuously for the last three weeks since I spotted the event during a Facebook scroll. Intense sessions in the Ian Thrope Aquatic Centre in the pool and in the gym, topped off the other day with a swim across Bondi from Flat Rock in the north over to Icebergs on the south end, something I’ve always wanted to do.

After a little convincing, my mate Leech, former state swimmer, promised to join and help me train. It’s been a while since he’s been in the pool though, and I don’t think I’ve set foot in a gym since high school; but we’ve persisted.

Not without a few hurdles. The other week at Cronulla I got dumped onto my shoulder and was out for a few days. And then the first time we attempted the Bondi swim Leech got stung by a bluebottle ten metres in and we had to turn back. Nevertheless we’ve made it to today.

I arrive at Leech’s at 7:40. Ten minutes late but it’s just a quick drive over. We’ll be ready for the race at 8:00. He hops in the car and I’m setting the directions into Google Maps when he stops me – no need.  An Eastern Suburbs local his whole life, he knows the area like the back of his hand.

“Just up here to the left.” I follow his directions driving slowly along the bay looking out for the crowds of fluoro swimmers and bathing caps. A soccer mum in a BMW four wheel drive beeps me from behind. 7:50 and there’s no one in sight. I’m starting to panic.

Leech reassures me it’s just at the surf club around the corner. A sprint down the stairs and through the park but we’re at an empty beach.

“Must be the other club,” Leech tries to laugh it off, smirking guiltily.

Back on the road accelerating down to the other side of Rose Bay when suddenly the sweet sights of fluoro caps begin bobbing in the distance, soothing my soul. We’re going to make it. My career as an ocean swimmer isn’t over yet.

In and out of the car park though, I can’t find a spot. I try for something on the road behind and down a narrow back street. Nothing. I reverse out. Not in the next one either. We’re getting further and further away when quick there, look, we see one. 

I turn off the engine. 8:05, maybe they haven’t left yet. We can still make it. I reach for my stuff but my goggles aren’t there. They’re not under my seat either.  Leech is dashing off. Screw the goggles. Run.

I chase in after Leech. He’s stopped, still, staring despondently at a fluoro swarm extending over the sea. The ladies at the registration inform us we’re too late. Plus there are no refunds on our entry fees. We do get a choice on a complimentary swimming cap though. Guess the $45 wasn’t for nothing.


The crowd mocks us from a distance.

Waddling in the ankle-deep water, the laughter and cheers from the finish line mock us, the stench from Rose Bay’s storm water drains behind adds insult to injury. I don’t think morning ocean races are for us.


Total Count: 28/160