Swimming with Sheep

I have two older brothers and a younger sister.  When we were kids our family would take an annual holiday to the seaside – always the last week in July and the first week in August.  Whitley Bay, on the coast of Northumberland  was always our favorite destination winning out against competitors like Redcar, Seaton Carew, Bridlington and Scarborough.   Each “resort” had its own caché and fans.

If there was no rain, we would spend our days on the beach at Whitley Bay, or in the amusement arcades if we had nasty weather.  The Spanish City was one of these arcades, and it was later immortalized by Mark Knopfler and the Dire Straights in their song “Tunnel of Love”.  I have lots of stories about the fun me and my brothers would have there – my sister was always too young to hang with the “big boys”!

In the weeks leading up to our holiday my mother would be preparing and packing.  I remember this one year she was knitting new swimming trunks for me and my brothers.  They were a rusty brown color – very appropriate as they would be able absorb the effluent from the local chemical plants without leaving too many stains.

Now, bear in mind that it’s the beautiful North Sea that laps the beaches of Whitley Bay and other coastal towns on that part of Britain.  Even at it’s warmest, and despite global warming, I doubt that the temperature of the water there rises much above 50 degrees Fahrenheit.

So we were all prepared.  The beach routine went something like this.

1. Find your spot, and plant your equipment – at a minimum a windbreak and rented deckchairs.
2. Spread out the towels – I have memories of these being about the thickness of cheesecloth.
3. Change into your swimming trunks while your parents made a modesty screen with the towels.  If (wicked) Uncle Gordon was there, and he often was, he would always make sure that he whipped away the towel at a moment that would cause you maximum embarrassment.
4. Make sandcastles, go crab hunting, play some football (soccer) or cricket.
5. Hit the sea, and splash around until the blueness spread to the end of your nose and then run back to the spot and get a towel wrap and rub from my mother.
6. Drink a hot cup of tea (there were tea stands strategically located along the beach).

Then we’d start again at the “make sandcastles” and repeat until the blue wouldn’t go away anymore – and everyone was exhausted and crabby and ready for a nice plate of fish and chips.  In fact I think they used to make the tea greasy to help stimulate that appetite.

The Reveal

So there we were on the first day, all ready to hit the water in our new swim trunks.  Run! Fun! Splash! Fun! Splash! Brrrr! Let’s go get warm.  This was a moment of revelation and learning – DON’T EVER KNIT YOUR KIDS A SWIMSUIT MADE OF WOOL even if you do reinforce the seams!

My brother and I abandonned our dignity as we made our way back up the beach to the warming station while trying to pull our 20 pound trunks up from our ankles.  I remember that we provided quite a show for all the other holiday makers, something that they almost certainly forgot by the next day, but something that has blighted me forever, and will remain embedded in my psyche until my dying day.