Beyond the break

Picture: Rachelle Lawler

Living on or near water has always been important to me. Some of my favourite memories are of holidaying at the beach on South Australia’s York Peninsular, a couple of hours' drive west of Adelaide.

Despite being a swimmer through school and becoming a swim teacher and lifeguard soon after, I’ve never been overly confident in the ocean. I grew up on the Murray River and other than a few ocean competitions, I've spent most of my swimming days in pools.

After work in my twenties took me to landlocked Laos for a couple of years, I made sure when I moved back to Australia to be near a beach. I’d had too much time too far from the ocean. Bondi has been that place for me ever since.

Without rigid work hours and interstate travel, lockdown last year gave me the chance to swim much more than usual, and for the first time since moving to Sydney I swam all year round. Most of the time this was at the Icebergs, and when that closed, I moved to the Bronte sea pool.

Time off in between jobs this year meant I could spend afternoons doing laps in my bathers with plenty of time to warm up in the sun afterwards. But with new work hours approaching, I knew I needed a wetsuit to swim early mornings in the cold.

I also knew that friends from the Icebergs Winter Swimming Club were meeting for Bondi point-to-point swims before work. For years I’d enviously looked on at the bay swimmers. It was a goal to eventually get there and the timing seemed right to finally have a crack. The distance is about 800m one way — that’s 16 laps of the Icebergs pool. 

After online shopping for a much too tight wetsuit, I was back shopping for flippers a week later to try and keep up with the already fit swimmers, and I was out-facing my ocean swimming fears. In hindsight I had no idea what I was in for.

In the first week of swimming, I had to be rescued. Not a great start. A tricky swim in at the south end has made me forever grateful to the kind surfer and lifeguard who helped me through a large set that caught me off guard. I had swum in a few times at the south end (and was always uncomfortable), but this swim taught me it can also be dangerous. I had a lot to learn quickly if I was going to carry on.  

This experience changed a few things for me. First, I knew I needed to understand more about the ocean and equip myself to make better decisions. Second, it changed my perspective on the fears I had always carried with ocean swimming. Growing up in South Australia and knowing several great white shark attack victims had created a deep sense of fear swimming past the breakwater. Other than the odd triathlon, I just couldn’t do it. How quickly that changed after my rescue.

My focus almost immediately turned away from the dangers of deep water and instead focused on the force of the swirl and my own strength to confront the waves. I was becoming nervous approaching them and lacked confidence in my fitness. Panic wears you out quickly.

I soon craved being far away from the shore and the luxury of being able to just turn inwards and focus on swimming. I was excited to leave the bay and swim to the shark buoy or Bronte.

Being in deep water transported me to a place of calm. I had the odd panicked feeling, being uncomfortable in the unknown, but mostly I was fascinated by a new environment, seeing the change of sea floor, the different colours, the fish, and anticipation of swimming with dolphins or a whale.

I relished the chance to swim on my back and soak in the views of Bondi, seemingly so far away. Mostly I realised when I was far out beyond the point how liberating it felt to look back and feel so small in depths of the ocean, and that equally all my problems felt smaller. Being a part of something so large and unknown meant each swim came with a new experience, a new perspective, something not always easy to find while locked down for months on end in the 2026 postcode.

Swimming to me has always been a very personal experience. I’ve always swam alone. For an introvert, it has helped to numb the senses and create a sense of peace. When injury and illness have let my body down, swimming has always been my saviour.

This year for the first time, however, it has also supported me with a strong sense of community. I was welcomed into the Great White Swim Club — who were meeting in small, socially distanced groups — and have been overjoyed with the friendships created along the way.

The group is extremely diverse. From teenagers to retirees, those who wear wetsuits, those who don’t. We have strong swimmers, fast swimmers, swimmers with flippers, a state champion, an Olympian (who I accidentally asked once if she was wearing flippers) and those who are first-time ocean swimmers. It’s busy in the bay, but there’s always room for more to join.

Sometimes we cross paths with other swim clubs and share survival tips depending on who has been out first for the day. There are natural leaders in the group who set the pace, keep everyone on track and, importantly, leave no one behind. Regardless of how a swimmer seems to be feeling on any given day, there is regular checking in and support for each other. I’ve even surprised myself at how much I’ve learnt and been able to help others in the water.

There has been countless singing of happy birthday cheers mid-swim, rescued flipper stories, constant sharing of goggles and caps, tips on swim equipment, and we have a self-taught wetsuit repair man (so far he’s glued together 35 cuts in my suit).

I’ve had my personal battles managing the waves and will be forever grateful for the many swimmers who have coached me in and out of the surf, and patiently supported me at different times of vulnerability.

Bondi Beach can be tricky to navigate but we are also lucky how safe it can be. Whether it's the surf and swim teachers, lifeguards and lifesavers, squad coaches or long-time experienced locals, we are lucky to have so many who dedicate their time and knowledge of the water to the local community. All have played such an important role in shaping my swimming experiences this past lockdown.

Ocean swimming has been a pleasure in and out the water. Coffee at Depot or bRU afterwards always feels well deserved and an opportunity to connect with friends when I would otherwise be living and working alone.  

I’ve been so grateful for the new shared experience it has become. As opposed to a lockdown walk and talk to catch up with friends, swimming has been the perfect balance of socialisation with equal time to yourself.  

It has helped keep me fit and happy and provided a foundation for structure and stability when I needed it most in life.

In many ways it has also filled the gap I was craving to explore and be challenged. As travel would have done previously, it has allowed me to meet new people and learn so much about myself and the environment.

Now that lockdown is over, I plan to maintain the swimming rituals I’ve established this year. Now that we can meet in larger groups, I look forward to many more laughs in the water this summer. My next goal: to peel my wetsuit off and swim flipper free. 

Mary Andrew is a Bondi Junction local who works in public affairs.