The Great Swim !
I love travelling back to North Devon.
Way way back ….. when I was a twinkle in my fathers eye… he decided to do something extraordinary.
He had left the Royal Marines and had started up a barber shop in the small coastal town of Bideford in North Devon. For those travellers amongst you, it’s also called the ‘little white town’ and is very close to Clovelly.
My Dad liked his beer, as did every blue blooded male in Bideford ( used to have more pubs per capita than any other English town), and would spend much of the family income on beer and horses……. (And ciggies).
In his ‘local’ one evening he and some local fishermen made a wager. They said that no one could swim from Bideford quayside across the confluence of the Rivers Taw and Torridge, to Baggy Point and back again.
They were fishermen and knew how dangerous those waters are….. my father was full of himself, had had a pint or three and made the wager that he could do it. AND to make it even more difficult he was going to do it on Christmas Day!
So the stage was set.
My father was a very athletic bloke and a strong swimmer but this was going to be an enormous task. The story got into the local papers and a national tabloid picked it up as well.
Crowds of people flocked down to Bideford quay on Christmas morning and watched Keith Seymour cover his body in lard ( to act as an insulating material… no wetsuits available for him). They cheered him as he entered the frigid waters of the River Torridge, and again as he began swimming.
A fishing boat made the journey with him and witnessed the moment he almost gave up. Midway through the swim a jellyfish stung him badly…. He kept going.
Focused, exhausted, freezing, he eventually reappeared… the day had evaporated and the crowds had all left thinking this was madness and he couldn’t do it.
Swimming back up the River Torridge the fishing boat accompanying him sounded it’s horns. People realised what was happening and began to run back down to the quayside, and by the time he arrived at the old fish market, hundreds had gathered.
He’d done it. The first person to ever achieve it.
He taught me that the human spirit is a remarkable thing. Travelling through the world and living overseas, as I have on several occasions, has reinforced the lessons that my father taught me.
As the New Year starts, I hope that everyone thinks of the family and friends who have ignited something in them…. I hope you do.
2022 will be a year of touring and travel…it’ll be a year of historical and cultural research. It’ll be a year of storytelling.
I can’t wait to be touring SW England again in March. My group is going to love seeing Devon, Somerset, Cornwall, Dorset and Hampshire through my lens….. I hope
http://seymourtrvels.co.uk