Back home from another wonderful experience at the Outdoor Swimming Society’s Dart 10k, this time with extra depth and warmth.

This was my fourth year in a row doing the Dart, so time to help out as well as swim. I’m so glad I volunteered as it gave a whole new extra dimension to being there and involved. And this year was also the tenth running of the event so there was a special celebratory buzz.

I was part of the set up and registration team on the Friday, Information Team Leader on the Saturday and back on registration on the Sunday before swimming.

Erin, the Volunteer Manager, made us all feel super welcome and a lovely team spirit quickly took shape as we set to, getting everything organised, the registration tent kitted out with bunting and signs, OSS banners hoisted, swimmers’ pen fenced off and taped up and everything in place ready for the first swimmers to register in around four hours. What could be more fun?

Poo duty, that’s what.

Poo Duty and Everything in Threes

Amongst the many things to prepare the site was ensuring there were no unpleasant gifts left by dogs on the field where we’d be marshalling around 1,500 swimmers over the coming two days.

Now I feel uneasy around dogs at the best of times. So we’ll delicately step over the doggy details. Afterwards, though, I watched with broody suspicion of any dog that jauntily sauntered into the field. Don’t even think about it!

Back to the registration and everything was set up for a smooth, fast flowing process. Over the next three hours, as darkness fell a steady flow of swimmers arrived. Team Leader Judith said all we had to do was check their signed disclaimer, photo ID and timer chip, making sure they all tallied with the person standing in front of us; and in return hand over a coloured hat for their wave, a Clif Bar and write the number on the swimmer’s hand. Three things to check, three things to give.

You would think that would be simple enough. It was surprising to see how many variations and interpretations are possible – some mislaying one of the three, some two, others going all out and leaving everything at home. One guy insisted to me he hadn’t been given any instructions of what to bring. Another said, with a little more disarming charm, “Oh… I never read any instructions.” Such was the thoroughness of the OSS set up, though, there always seemed to be a way to get everyone registered.

We finally closed Friday registration at 8:00pm under a beautiful full harvest moon – ready for a 4:15am start next morning. Ouch.

Thirty Seconds Rich in Emotion and Connection

Over those three days I was struck by the connections that can be made with one person after another in only the briefest of moments. With a few it was a common link to places, clubs or past events. With lots more it was more the warm sense of sharing in their excited anticipation and empathising with varying degrees of nervousness.

We’re not talking deep bonding or the start of life long friendships here. But there seemed to be something very special and quite unique in those few seconds of engagement as each person entered the tent to register for their wave – some purposeful, others hesitant and unsure; three things ready (on the whole) to hand to us; and an open bundle of raw emotions. The more experienced had a business-like single minded focus, others an infectious enthusiasm and impatience to get going. For many of the novices it was more a nervous sense of time having run out – can’t prepare anymore now (nor duck out). Some were exhausted by the effort and stress of getting there in time; others a little lost and unsure how to spend the extra hours they’d allowed for without getting even more nervous.

1,500 people for the team to welcome, attentively hold for a moment, exchange the set of three things and send on their way with a “great stuff – you’re ready to go”.

On the Information stand we handed out answers to random questions, free Vaseline and Daisy’s Cold Water Surf Cream (a much nicer, environmentally friendly alternative I’ll be using from here on), a bit of first aid as needed (only one bloody toe to tape up) and lots of encouragement.

Time to Swim

Back early on Sunday, a 5:30am start before registration reopened and another steady flow of swimmers to direct. Two and a half hours of standing outside the registration tent with super OSS stalwart Tish, the two of us at varying volumes, constantly repeating “You need your signed disclaimer form, photo ID and timer chip IN YOUR HAND, then go to the desk for your wave.” Three days on and I can still hear her voice, like a tune that won’t leave your head.

And then, almost unexpectedly, it was my turn to get into my wetsuit and underway.

Being bound up in all the set up meant I’d had no time to dwell nervously on my impending swim. Perhaps I was too chilled out but it did feel relaxing and calming. I also felt more at one with the other swimmers as we filed down to the slipway – rather than, as I would normally be, all insular, apprehensive and self-absorbed.

After all those hours standing and directing it also felt quite soothing to be horizontal, sliding through the water, only the sound of my bubbling out and the splash of hands and feet around.

And the river was just stunning. The remnants of an early morning mist whispered over the far banks and the sun dazzled on the water. Everything around seemed to be in richer colours – the green meadows and dark woods at the water’s edge; the safety crews’ yellow and blue tops; white, red, yellow caps around (and occasional blue elite caps flying past).

After only around 3kms I started to feel an achy tiredness in my arms and back with each stroke. I seemed to be keeping a good rhythm going, though, either staying more or less level or overtaking other white caps from my wave and after a while passing red and yellow caps from the earlier waves. “Must be on for a great time, Mike,” I told myself. (I wasn’t.) “Keep going.” (I did).

Caught in the excitement I pushed harder from the first feed station, surprised when the second came into view sooner than I’d expected or remembered from previous years. “Must be on for a brilliant time” I told myself again. (No – sorry, you weren’t.) On to the last section and a bit of a battle between weariness and holding a good stroke, keeping an eye on any white caps to make sure I wasn’t slowing up and wondering when the big DART 10k sign would finally appear.

And then, with an odd mix of relief and disappointment that it was over, I was at the finish, feet down in thick squelchy mud, a bit of a wobbly-legged stagger, a helping hand to straighten up from a marshal and a kiss from my beaming partner Anne. All done.

What a wonderful experience – three days of being a part of a super, warm, fantastically organised team putting on something extraordinary and then being able to experience it for myself.

Big thanks to everyone in the volunteer team, Erin, Tish, Kari, Liz, Devon, Judith, Jo, Seb… too many people to mention. Also to Kate, Founder of the OSS who started it all and calm, guiding presence Jon the Event Manager. #sharetheswimlove