For Claire Keenan, the dream of becoming an ocean swimmer took hold as soon as she moved to Sydney. The allure of getting past the breakers and confronting the elements was a powerful draw. "Once I live closer to the beach, I'm going to be out there. Just you wait," she would proclaim to anyone who listened.
From Enthusiasm to a Sting of Reality
Despite living within walking distance of the coast for over a year, Keenan's progress was more theoretical than practical. She immersed herself in literature about swimmers conquering challenges and even listened to podcasts on overcoming oceanic fears. Her initial forays were promising, swimming laps in the ocean pools at Malabar and Coogee with a visiting friend. She equipped herself with a secondhand wetsuit and new goggles for better underwater visibility.
However, her momentum was brutally halted by an impromptu after-work dip at Clovelly. In an incident she describes as "extremely bad luck," Keenan was stung in the face by a jellyfish. The experience was so painful and traumatic it gave her pause, sending her retreating to the safety of enclosed ocean pools like Wylie's baths.
Building a Community of Solo Swimmers and Fish
Keenan reflects on a childhood spent in various waterways, from the Murrumbidgee River to the Gold Coast, where her love for the ocean first blossomed. Yet, as an adult learner, she has adopted a forgiving philosophy: we do not need to succeed at every hobby we pick up.
To date, her cumulative ocean swimming distance is modest, perhaps equivalent to 20 pool laps. The secondhand wetsuit proved too claustrophobic, and a cold swim attempt to reach the famed Wedding Cake Island at Coogee ended with her turning back, earning bemused praise for being "brave" from locals.
Finding Joy in a Personal Routine
What Keenan lacks in endurance, she has compensated for by crafting a pleasurable and pressure-free routine. She swims solo, only when she feels like it, and has found her community among other independent swimmers and the local marine life.
Her underwater companions have included enormous blue gropers, tiny stingrays, schools of silver and striped fish, and even a Port Jackson shark—an encounter that elicited a muffled shriek. It is this bustling, beautiful subaquatic world that captivates and distracts her, offering a sense of simplicity amidst the chaos of life above the surface.
She has learned to adapt her approach to the conditions, forgoing goggles on days with high, crashing surf and opting for snorkelling when the water is low and clear—a method she actually prefers. For Claire Keenan, the rookie era of ocean swimming is less about conquering distances and more about discovering a profound, personal connection with the sea.
