Floating by Joe Minihane

Author:Joe Minihane [MINIHANE, JOE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BIO000000, BIO026000, BIO023000, NAT024000
ISBN: 9781468315349
Publisher: The Overlook Press
Published: 2017-06-19T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOUR

May

River Wensum, Norfolk

The tea-coloured Great Ouse had been something wholly new for me, a challenge and a variation on my previous Waterlog swims. It had taught me I could tackle some of Roger’s more extreme adventures. It had also served as a timely reminder that my anxiety wasn’t disappearing any time soon. That needed work as much as Roger’s trail needed following. But as the days began to lengthen and warm, nerves and worries about long trips and days away from the daily grind slipped away.

I felt an overwhelming sense of excitement about what was to come as summer finally slipped out from behind the clouds. My brief panic had subsided.

I began planning a long trawl through Devon to Dartmoor, and its deep, hidden salmon streams, a three-day adventure on which I’d be joined by Keeley, Tom and Joe. But before heading south I made my last East Anglian trip for some time.

I had wanted to swim in the Wensum ever since I started laying plans for my reappraisal of Roger’s journey, even though he himself hadn’t swum there. His descriptions of the daredevil Sonny Goodson jumping from the 69-foot parapet of Norwich Art School into just 12 feet of water in the Wensum below got me thinking about a long, soothing dip in this river which winds its way through the city I once called home. I had no desire to hurtle off a building I used to pass almost daily as a student, nor to swim in what had become a rather industrial, dirty stretch of water.

Thankfully, Molly had found an ideal spot a few miles upstream where we could enjoy a dip away from prying eyes in much cleaner water. We met at her flat in town, which overlooked the river and where she had seen otters playing in the shallows just the week before. I was jealous of her proximity to such a pretty stretch of water. Tim joined us, checking to see how I was after my recent panic on the Ouse, and we set out at a brisk pace along the Marriott Way, skirting past a used car garage and an industrial estate before hitting a wide path which allowed us to walk easily three abreast. It was mild, and we all knew that if we could work up a proper sweat the cold of the water would be much easier to bear.

Molly walked us to an opening in the trees and parted them to reveal a steep, grassy bank which led down to the Wensum below. It looked still and deep from high up, but as we moved down I could see it slowly trundling towards Norwich. I imagined it becoming brown and turbid as it mingled with the Yare downstream, passed through the Broads and headed out into the North Sea near Great Yarmouth. The Ouse had left an indelible mark on me, letting me see rivers in their future state as I gazed at them in the moment.

The early summer

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