Tag Archives: Tramore Pier

Best LoneSwimmer photos of 2012 – Part 2 (last part)

These are the final of my favourite photos from 2012. In the course of doing this series I’ve been very happy with the overall result and some of the rediscoveries. I’ve been reading a lot about photography lately, and one of the things that resonated most was actually a comment, to try to find the things that speak to me and about me and for me most. And there’s little doubt that for me, that is the sea, a difficult subject , and the Irish coast, and my swimming life. After putting this series together, My Swimming Life 2012, I’m already somewhat apprehensive about 2013’s images, maybe 2012 was a high-water mark for me.

Here’s another pictures of the English Channel. Dawn, leaving Dover and Shakespeare beach and evening returning to Dover Harbour, a slight hazy fog under the Varne cliffs. This photo became the banner image for the marathonswimmers.org forum.

Dover Harbour
Dover Evening

I crewed for Owen O’Keefe for his final Blackwater swim and took a nice picture of the Youghal bridge.

Blackwater bridge Youghal
Blackwater Bridge

And if you’re a regular here, you know how I love the Copper Coast and sea thrift.

Brown's Island & sea pinks
Kilfarassey Pinks
Tramore prom
Storm bollards

That big storm in August gave me some great opportunities and one of the most viewed posts of the year. Knowing the area and the sea conditions probably allowed me to find the best vantage points of any of the droves of local and better photographers who were out that day.

Tramore pier stormwave
Stormwave

Below is an image I’ve imagined capturing for a couple of years. Apart from the New York night image in the previous post, this is my favourite of all the photos I’ve taken this year.

The angry sea
The angry sea

The Skellig Islands, possibly my favourite place in the world, a World Heritage Site, often seem to me to be almost a dream of the sea. It also surprises me how few Irish people seem to have visited, but being 12 miles of the south-west and requiring advance booking of boats, in notoriously unpredictable weather,maybe that partially explains it.  

Skellig Wave
Skellig Wave

Anyway, these are my favourites, a year of swimming and the sea, I hope you enjoy them. If you have a favourite I’d like to know? So here’s a poll where you can choose three

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Wait. Just thirteen between both posts? Initially it was twelve, but these two (above and below) had to be included. I found the image below after I’d gone through all the other posts. I’d completely forgotten it. (Thanks to Catherine Drea for processing advice!) It was taken on that same day of torrential rain in August that I took the picture of Brown’s Island in the rain, while passing through Tramore looking back at the storm clouds gathered past Powerstown Head.

Calm before the storm
Calm before the storm

I’m proud of these photos. Let’s hope 2013 produces some great images. In the meantime Riana convinced me to sign up for blipfoto, where I am trying to pursue a photo-a-day project to improve my technical and composition skills, and I am already very glad she did, even the days I struggle. If you want to see my daily (often a real struggle) attempts, pop on over or follow the updates from my Twitter account.

Swimming 2012 – the pictorial tour continues – Almosts

This follows the 2012 Swim Locations post. I was considering calling it the My Swimming Life series. These photos were almost but not quite amongst my favourites for 2012, which will be coming soon. Like anyone with a camera, you notice that you sometimes take more photos on those really good days than you get to share. So here’s a chance to see some new ones, and revisit some others. Not all are chosen because they are good photographs, as some aren’t great, but they capture something relevant or interesting to me.

Also, I’ve been trying to improve my post-processing skills as well as my camera skills, the two in inextricable in the digital age, and I found a few that I didn’t take much notice of the first time around that have benefited from a run through the bit-machine.

Also, for a variety of reasons I’m struggling to write at the moment, so we’ll continue on this pictorial tour of 2012.

Alan Clack in the English Channel
Alan Clack in the English Channel

The day before Trent’s swim, I crewed for Alan. Despite all I’ve written about Trent, Alan’s solo was personally more important.  Alan first made in contact in 2010 after my solo and I guess we were on the Channel journey together ever since, (me in a supporting role of course). Alan travelled to Ireland three times, swum two full Distance weeks, (more than I’ve done). The risk of bad weather during his window was bigger for him considering the lack of travel availability from Canada. On the day, conditions were very choppy and not conducive to great photography, but I managed what has become a traditional Channel image for many swimmers. Alan swam a fantastic Solo, in a great time of eleven and a half hours.

Swimmers and crew.
Swimmers on the right, crew on the left.

One of the undoubted highlights of my 2012 swimming year was being on Sandycove Island for the final day of qualification swims. I was on crew on Saturday for the Total Brain and Body Confusion “torture” swim, as I was previously in 2011. However the last couple of years I’d swum on the final qualification day. This was my first time on the island, with Finbarr, Ned, Riana, and Andrew Hunt. It was an extraordinary day, to see from land-side what we put ourselves through. I know what it’s like to suffer unending hypothermia around Sandycove, to not be able to stand straight or talk clearly or use my muscles fully. To see it first-hand and up close was another thing again and to be able to help the swimmers was nothing less than a privilege with the level of marathon and Channel swimming knowledge and competence rising each year.

Tramore beach
Tramore beach

Just another day in Tramore. The photo looks black and white, but isn’t. These are the colours of late winter in Ireland.

Tramore pier
Tramore pier

Another wintery almost colourless shot, this was taken looking around the corner of Tramore pier out toward the Guillamenes, fractions of a second before the wave reflected back off the wall.

Blackwater morning
Blackwater morning

Some much-needed colour, motoring up a calm Blackwater on the late-summer morning with Owen for his swim from Cappaquin back down to Youghal.

Climbing to Coumshigaun
Climbing to Coumshigaun

Long-suffering Dee, accompanying me up the Comeragh Mountains so that I could swim Coumshingaun. Look carefully, the doglet is at her feet.

Simple pink.
Simple pink.

April is pinks (sea-thrift) month. I love pinks.

Trent
Trent

My other favourite of Trent, taken by hanging off the bow. I was sorry I didn’t take more from this angle.

Scout flying.
Scout flying.

Scout regularly accompanies us to the coast along with my older dogs. He refuses to demonstrate his flying ability for others publicly though. The Pomeranian breed’s tendency to go ballistic with excitement has earned them the term berserking. And there’s nowhere more exciting than the coast.

Huge Newtown Cove breaking wave
Huge Newtown Cove breaking wave

The post of the south-easterly summer storm was one of the more popular during the year.

Owen in the Blackwater
Owen in the Blackwater

Speaking of the Fermoy Fish, there were a few minutes early in his Blackwater swim that couldn’t have been better for photos. You’ll recognise this as his banner picture.

Inside the Cathedral
Inside the Cathedral

Looking out from inside St. John’s Island. I seem to have become a cave-swimmer over the past couple of years.

Near. Far away.
Near. Far away.

Now, I’ll explain again Dougal.

Please welcome, the Purple Stinger
Please welcome, the Purple Stinger

2012’s special guest appearance, at every swimming location.

More to come …

A pictorial tour of my 2012 open water swimming locations

This post is now part the My Swimming Life, 2012 series.

I must start with the Guillamenes and Tramore Bay and Kilfarassey of course, my main swimming locations.  My usual range in Tramore Bay is between Newtown Head (under the pillars) to the beach, along the west side of the bay, most of the range seen in this first photo, with much less regular venturing across or out deep. (I also regularly leave the bay by passing around Great Newtown Head into Ronan’s Bay).

Tramore Bay
Tramore Bay, May 2012

Swimming range in Kilfarassey is mostly based around swimming out and around Brown’s island, Yellow Rock and the big arch. Once the water warms up I will up past Sheep Island.

Kilfarassey, August 2012
Kilfarassey to Sheep Island August 2012

Other locations on the Copper Coast: Bunmahon, Gararrus and Ballydowane. I didn’t, that I recall, swim at Kilmurrin, Ballyvooney or Stradbally this year. Funny how you just don’t make it to some places each year.

Tankardstown, past Bunmahon & to Tempevrick
Tankardstown, past Bunmahon (in behind the middle medium island) to Tempevrick
Ballydowane Cove across to St. John's island
Ballydowane Cove across to St. John’s island
Gararrus across to Sheep Island
Gararrus across to Sheep Island with Eagle Rock just visible behind

Clonea beach, but only a couple of times. I didn’t swim at Baile na Gall.

Clonea beach across Dungarvan Bay to Helvick Head, new Year's Day, 2013
Clonea beach across Dungarvan Bay, past Carricknamoan, to Helvick Head, New Year’s Day, 2013

Sandycove, Garrylucas, Ballycotton, Myrtleville and across Cork Harbour.

Sandycove panorama
Sandycove panorama, the first and fourth corners of the island to the Red House
Garrylucas, April 2012
Garrylucas, April 2012. Most boring photo of the year?
Ballycotton Lighthouse
Ballycotton Lighthouse
Myrtleville beach at dawn, Oct. 2012
Myrtleville beach at dawn, Oct. 2012
Roche's Point to Power Head
Roche’s Point to Power Head

Round Beginish Island, but I missed swimming at Derrynane, Finian’s Bay or Kells this year, which are usual Kerry locations for me most years.

Valentia Island and Sound panorama with Caherciveen bay and the small islands, July 2012
Valentia Island and Valentia Sound panorama, with Caherciveen bay and the small islands, July 2012

Kingsdale to Deal, Dover Harbour, and Cap Griz Nez.

Kingdale Beach
Evening on Kingdale Beach
Dover Harbour from Dover Castle, July 2012
Dover Harbour from Dover Castle, July 2012
Les Hennes to Cap Gris, July 2012, taken on one great day with good friends.
Wissant beach to Cap Gris nez, past the WWII bunkers, July 2012, taken on one great day with good friends.

Inishcarra, Coumshingaun and Bay Lough are the lakes I can recall swimming. First year not swimming in any of the Kerry lakes for a while.

Inishcarra reservoir
Inishcarra reservoir
Coumshingaun Lake panorama
Coumshingaun Lake panorama, Comeragh Mountains
Bay Lough
Bay Lough, Knockmealdown Mountians

And of course Coney Island’s Brighton Beach and Around Manhattan.

Brighton beach, Coney Island
Brighton beach, Coney Island
Lower Manhattan
Lower Manhattan

All photos are of course my own.

Bollards

Summer Storm Force on the Copper Coast

There is no swimming in this post. I really wanted to get swim just for the fun of it, but there was no safe exit point except at the pier and I knew I’d cause mass panic there, probably resulting in Rescue 117 being called out again. Does this mean I am growing up? Surely not.

Storm season is a nice phrase. Like Earthquake weather. And like the reality of  earthquake weather, storm season in Ireland is 12 months long, (as it seems for the past five years anyway).

Still, a couple of times a year we get a really big blow that hits the south and south-east. It’s half way though August, the month most Irish people take their hollyers (annual vacation), and a big low depression out in the Western Approaches drove a howling short-duration south-easterly Storm Force 9 onto the south coast. A south-easterly always provides a spectacle on the Waterford coast. Two trees were lost on the Loneswimmer Estate, and the brand new replacement diving board at the Guillamenes was snapped off, a board so heavy it took 6 adult men to lift recently.

High tide was late afternoon, and the wind increased from mid-day, luckily not hitting the maximum Storm Force until a few hours after high tide had passed. Anyway this is just an introduction. Everyone loves storms pictures. I took a lot of photos (400!) at the Newtown and the Guillamenes, Tramore Pier, Ladies Beach, and both ends of the Prom and managed to whittle a few I liked from the lot. (I’ve held a couple other back for future use, including my favourite). Long time regulars might have noticed I starting reducing resolution earlier in the year, to save me uploading full resolution images which weren’t required, it saves me time and WordPress Server space, and  saves you trying to load a 200 MB panorama pic. (I still have to go back and tidy up some of those, housekeeping isn’t fun).

Newtown Cove was wild before high tide and despite the rising storm, the sky was blue and the day was warm.

The sea breaking down onto the Newtown Cove platform. The blue sky only lasted a few minutes later than this image and was disappearing by the time I walked back to the car park.

Outside the Cove it was pretty big, waves looked about five to six metres, with occasional set waves at maybe seven to nine metres.

With the howling onshore, this meant breaking waves with spray reaching up to about 80 feet high.

The Guillamenes platform was completely inaccessible as waves exploded over it, occasionally even breaking over the top of the changing alcove. It wasn’t safe to go down past the first couple of steps, and it certainly wasn’t dry.

No wonder the diving board snapped with the volume of water bearing down on it.  Normally the board would be removed before the worst of the storms hit.

The bay provided a nice canvas. Tramore is a shallow bay, it was this type of onshore storm that was responsible for the loss of the Merchant Marine vessel the Seahorse in the late 19th Century in the Bay, and led to the erection of the pillars on Newtown and Brownstown Heads at either side of the bay, pillars you are well used to seeing here, the indicators of my swimming home.

The bathymetry of Tramore Bay is a long sloping sandy bottom with sandbanks going out a long way, which cause waves to jack up and break far out in these conditions.  And of course the bigger a wave the farther it reaches down to touch bottom, the slowing of the bottom of the waves is what causes it to break from the top as the lip spills over.

By the time I reached the pier, there were rain showers and photography became a bit more difficult.

From Newtown Head, past the Guillamene and Comolene rocks, into about a hundred metres in front of the pier under the cliff, was the direct straight line from the incoming south-easterly waves. The bay is shallow in front of the pier and there also are reefs and heavy thick kelp beds to suck the energy from the waves before they hit the cliff under where I was standing. And I finally got a decent image of something I’ve long been trying to capture; direct line of an onshore storm.

Taking pictures of just the sea is bloody difficult. Like you always look heavier on camera, photos often strip the power, grandeur and pure scale from the sea. This image isn’t as showy a photo as big breaking waves, not as obvious as most of my shots here, but this is a sea-lover’s image, at least, this sea-lover anyway.The beaten-steel grey-green of the Atlantic, Mananán Mac Lir howling and driving his chariot led by his white horse, Aonbarr of the Flowing Mane.

I shot some brief video above the pier, but with nowhere in the deep cliff-edge grass to anchor the small tripod and the wind buffeting me, I had to keep it short. I took also some video on the waterproof camera, but I haven’t reviewed it yet.

I moved into town, but got no good images at Ladies Beach. I’d gone through most of the lens wipes in my camera bag trying to keep the lens clear.

The town end of the Promenade and seawall is always popular during onshore storms, waves breaking on the wall, and you can get close enough for reasonable photography because there’s a nice dry spot right at the end of the prom. This time I didn’t spend too much time on the usual photos from here, and focused on some other stuff, life a father and son running and laughing and racing the spray over the wall. And the spray itself. I got really lucky on this one.

I went around the prom and onto the beach beyond the Surf Centre for a contrary view with the town providing the backdrop. I still miss the yellow and red of the lifeguard centre, the white roof is characterless.

I wish I’d been able to wish Hook yesterday, it must have been fun out there.

I really wish I were a better photographer, but I’ll keep trying. About 15 good images from 400 is an improvement on my previous rate of 1%. I have high resolutions of these images, if anyone want to purchase any by the way.

If anyone cares, someone(s) nominated loneswimmer.com for four categories in the Irish blog awards.

The categories for which I’ve been nominated are;

  • Getting Cold And Wet While Covered in Sheep Grease
  • MAMIL (Middle-Aged Men In Lycra)
  • Special Category for Inventive Use of Baby Dolphin Juice
  • Doing Stupid Things While Devilishly Handsome But Also Cold And Wet And Still Wearing Sheep Grease And Lycra

I’m told the award for the last one is a rubber statuette.

Maybe. Categories are never what they should be. LoneSwimmer.com will pass 150,000 views within a week and that’s not including the direct subscribers. I’ve got you readers, you keep putting up with this nonsense, ergo … je suis tres contente. Thanks again to you all.

Spring at the Guillamenes

Problem: Out of ideas of what to write about next.

Solution: Go for a swim.

From the Guillamenes down to the pier and out the headland, ( the “Guillamenes Double” as I call it, though I only went halfway out to the headland yesterday, due to Half-Claw). Water was 9.c C under the ladder, maybe quarter to half a degree warmer than outside, though with a warm spot out past Newtown Cove.

Result: Come back with a list of ten possible things to talk about.

Renewed by the sea once more.

Here’s a picture popular with the tourists that I should have posted a long time ago, but kept forgetting because I’m so used to seeing it, in fact I never actually took one myself until yesterday. The well-known sign from the Guillamenes.

Guillamenes sign-resized

The context for that sign , with Tramore Bay and Tramore beach and town behind.

 

Here are my two travelling companions, who haven’t appeared enough here also, elderly siblings (14 years old) and along with Dee my best friends Toby and Jo-Jo.

Though siblings, the Tubster (aka The Small Emergency Backup Dog, no longer small) likes water, (but not waves) while Joey (the boss) prefers hills.

Club Chairman Eddie Kelly was around but I forgot to take his picture or the Cabin ( a converted shipping container, much used for summer lunches by the Club, with sausage sandwiches of the traditional Waterford Blaas being popular). A blaa is a soft bread bap and is pronounced like the sound a sheep makes by the way.

Much work has been done at the Guillamenes since the end of last summer. There are new wider steps down to the water, new railing on the steps, all the steps have been re- concreted, a new stone and wood picnic table, all the metalwork repainted and in some cases replaced, new signs, new fencing along the top cliff and a new retaining wall added on the outside of the platform to increase the area for changing, mostly funder under a European Partnership Funding initiative, with plans for further work if the Club can raise more funds.

You coming?

Most of the maintenance of this area is carried out by the Club members, some of them swimming in this area for well over 50 years. In an era long before the modern concept of environmentalism, these people looked on the sea as a shared heritage for all, and sought to protect it and improve the local amenities. This is true local environmental action.

The steps down to the platform, not as long nor as steep as they seem in this picture, only about 30 steps.

And then there are the sea and the rocks. It was low tide when I took this, on a nice semi-sunny day, mixed clouds and sun. It was afternoonish so the sun had moved west from it’s usual southerly position when I’m there allowed a few better pictures.

Looking from the top of the steps toward Donerail Head and the Pier. It’s about an 18 minute swim down to the pier (average) and 25 minutes to below Doneraile Head. Down and back to the Pier is 40 to 45 minutes. Currents often form off the pier end. At low tide there are heavy kelp stands that need to be negotiated.

Here’s the platform from above. You can see the Compass Rose which indicates why this is a good spot in a westerly or southwesterly. In fact yesterday there was a brisk southwestly but the swim route was nicely sheltered. The blue pillar marks one side of the tiny covered alcove that gets more used in windy winter days.  The far end of the platform was the location of the diving board until it was broken the year before last. Hopefully we’ll have a replacement this year. There are also two locations where it’s possible to high jump from rocks, one of them is more visible as the light coloured area about half way up the nearest tall rocks, above the high tide line, the height obviously tide dependent, up to about 40 feet and another far more dangerous higher spot on the far side, which had a fatality a few years back.

Those No Fishing signs are important. The rocks are popular with local anglers. These ones between the Guillamenes and Newtown Coves have the favourite spot, and I’m the only regular who swims that way, just where the rocks stick. I’ve yet to be caught in a line.

And below are some Sea-spray flowers with Brownstown head across the bay in the background.

Below, looking out toward the headland, over Newtown Cove, with the three Navigation Pillars on the headland visible.

Rocks are more interesting than sand don’t you think? A landlubber can walk along a beach, yes, in itself a pleasant activity. But show a sea swimmer some cliffs or rocks and what do you have but something that divides us from our landlived lives. You must enter into or upon the sea to navigate and appreciate the obstacle and the view.

And where would this be without a picture of the famous Metalman, now redundant as so many navigation aids, yet which retains the affection of seafolk and locals.

Now I see him point not at danger, but at enticement, at my other home.

Hope to see you all down here for a visit sometime. He’s pointing the way

Luck is the Fool’s Shield

So it all went…differently than expected.

Air temperature outside the house was -4°C.

I’ve noticed occasionally over the years that my house seems to exist within a thermocline, as it’s on the Suir river bank, and the town is flanked on the north and south by hills. Often driving up the southerly steep hill will be accompanied by a temperature rise.

Today since I was heading toward Tramore, I was driving down the valley however, but within 5 mile the temperature was up to -1°C.

The air was still at home but looking at the wind turbines outside Portlaw indicated a Northerly wind.

But, after arriving at the Guillamenes, while there were a few cars around, air temperature was a nice 2 to 3°C. There was a sizable short-range South Easterly swell, so very rough and choppy. Taking my own advice, I watched the water for about 5 minutes. It was half tide and sets were surging to about six to eight feet up the steps.

Even with the new wide steps and railings (the Council put three railing in by the way, after it was pointed out to them that the original design was insufficient), it was too dodgy for a safe exit.

Anyone getting in and out there today would have been taking an unnecessary risk! I’ve written about this repeatedly, in fact only yesterday. At steps, ladders and rocks, the exit is the most dangerous point!

It’s a risk that I wouldn’t and didn’t take, & I have significantly more experience than all those who were there earlier, yet… in they went. And put that in the context of some of the things that I’ve done.

While there was conceivably time to get out between waves, there was no pattern, so you could be half way up when a set could catch you. And I was congizant of the fact that I would have cold or numb hands and feet.

Luck is the fool’s shield.

As I mentioned in my post the other day, OBSERVE. If there are other egotistical idiots, people who are doing something, you are not obliged to do the same.

I’ve had people try to lecture me, telling me what I do is wrong. But I haven’t spent all this time as the Lone Swimmer without learning, instead of following. And in fairness the one person who used to try the lecturing was the one who know the least but has the most (unjustified) arrogance.

And then I took the temperature. Wait for it…5.2°C. Holy freholie! In December! A 2°C drop in a week.

That’s in the range of coldest sea temperature I’ve experienced, but two a half months ahead of schedule. Last year’s coldest was 5°C.

Ok, over to Newtown Cove for a look.  I knew Newtown would be sheltered for entry and exit but the tiny beach is stony. There’s a ladder and slipway down also from the concrete platform, but  I don’t want to climbing down, and later trying to climb up, a metal ladder that’s going to be at that low temperature. The slipway at that side is algae-covered so that’s a no-no. And I didn’t fancy managing the stones after a swim.

So it’s off to my backup location, Tramore Pier, which I only swim from a few times a year but have swam to more times than I can remember.

A cold Decemeber Sunday

And indeed,with a half tide, and being deeper inside T-bay, inside the pier was completely calm.

Walked over to the lower inside wall to take a measurement for curiosity’s sake, it was 5.1°C inside the wall, and 5.6°C one metre away on the outside of the wall. The ground was 0° to 2°C!

The pier is shallow so it’s a slow entry. I left my coat and sandals around the tide line and off I went. Maybe because of the slow entry it didn’t feel that bad. I swam outside the pier wall and out towards the Metalman and then I realised, someone could come along see the coat, and either panic or take the car keys. Normally I use a lockbox on the car but I thought with the 75 metre walk back today, I’d have lost some dexterity and might have a problem.

Picture a bit blurry

So I swam back did a loop inside the tiny harbour, swam back outside in a direct line from the beach this time and came back. I actually felt fine. However the pain that the 5C range causes in the hands and feet was there, and which at that temperature never departs. I had real pain in both as I exited, it was the main reason for getting out at 14 minutes.

Walking across the mixed sand and shingle was painful, my hands were really bloody painful and I was of course that lovely luminous lobster red.

“It’s all good”, as my daughter says.

Getting dressed I was under the cliff, well out of any wind, I felt okay, in fact I thought, “I feel unusually good for this temperature”. I got dressed without any difficulty before the after-drop hit, and while I had some shivering and jaw chattering, I was good to drive after a hot chocolate. I was really comfortable by about an hour.

And a bonus for one of the Doggits was that the Not-so-small Emergency Backup Dog found half of an half-frozen, half-rotten fish, so he was very happy with the trip. He stinks now though.

Next weekend it’ll be the Christmas Day swim. With a bit of luck, and co-operation from my wonderful fiancée, I might get to document it a bit.