The Farleigh and District River Swimming Club is thought to be the country’s last river swimming club, nestled in Farleigh Hungerford, between Bath and Trowbridge. It was in these wild waters of the River Frome that the inaugural New Year’s Day swim of 01 January 2008 took place. Fuelled by the alcoholic bravado of a preceding festive week, Serpentine stalwarts Dom Moorhouse and Joe Bennett convinced a virginal ‘new boy’, Tony, that the experience would be a rejuvenating ‘kick start’ to the New Year.
Roll forward twelve months and idle banter emerged again; could this be the nascent rumblings on which great traditions are built? As the date approached, and temperatures plummeted, the idea slipped backwards. That is, until its irrational renaissance at the Carney’s New Year Bash when, during the height of insobriety, a host of potential new initiates were again seduced by the concept. When
everyone awoke hours later on 01 Jan 2009 to sub-zero temperatures, a whiff of mass cowardice hung in the air. A myriad of text messages later, and support from Monsieur ‘Pierre Pressure’, saw five brave volunteers mustered, with families, to maintain the tradition. Step forward Dom Moorhouse (co-founder), Darren Stradling, Pete Carney, James and Paul (both casual visitors to previous night’s revelry). After debating the temperature (“my car thermometer seizes to measure below zero”) we agreed it was “potatoes in the mold” and should get briskly on with it.
The River Frome site is a great spot, nestled between pasture upstream of a weir, but it was distinctly devoid of other swimmers at this time of year. Quickly stripping out of scarves, hats and gloves, with bemused children looking on, the five prepared themselves for a swift dip. Pete Carney, who had last been seen in a drunken embrace of a smashed, expensive standard lamp some hours beforehand, looked particularly unimpressed. Once readied, Dom described the sad circumstances as to why his co-conspirator could no longer be in attendance and the swim was respectfully dedicated to his deceased father – the inimitable Doctor
John Bennett – who had sadly passed away that morning. Whilst it is not known whether Dr John partook in wild swimming himself, he certainly raised an impressive clan of four – all of whom, in free-spirited adulthood, are known to oft enjoy the rarely-ploughed watery furrows of river, lake and sea. As such, Dom felt confident the gesture would have had the blessing of a proud and genial man.
With shared sentiment, the group proceeded to the lonely rope swing. In such temperatures, this had to be the optimal entry method. Dom duly tested and, post brazen shock, trod water in situ to coax in the remainder. The bracing sensation he endured was given due reward in that he had prize place in which to spectate the ‘frozen horror’ visages of each of the ensuing plungers. First James, then a still-inebriated Pete (who sobered up in micro-seconds) followed by an agile Darren (who got some impressive plunge height). Last, but not least, the irrepressibly good-humoured Paul brought up the rear. Suffice to say, the exits were rapid (indeed torpedo-like) and wives supported the towelling and re-dressing efforts as fingers and toes ‘gave up the ghost’. Ok, I exaggerate for effect – but you get the drift.
After a final volley of after photos, the content smugness of the physical
and spiritual afterglow effect kicked in. Like Knights retuning from Agincourt , we trudged out of the field, talking about shared combat and annual re-visits. This must surely lay the way for an annual tradition of note. Maybe, in ten years or so, the banks will be awash with spectators, marquees and heater lamps? With such musings, we departed for a hot Fish Pie and beer at The George in Norton St Phillip – all in hearty agreement that this should also become another dimension of future New Year Day gatherings. On on!
RIP Dr. J Bennett (1930 - 2009)
