This week, I’ve been thinking about tides.

For me, living on Lundy, tides are never just background. They can shape my day and my plans. I notice these shifts of tide, as I swim all year round off Lundy. Although at this time of year, the word ‘swim’ is generous—it’s more of a cold-water dip!

The tides this week, the second week of March have felt particularly unusual.

Cold Water Truths

I persuaded a visiting friend to join me for a dip. March is arguably the coldest time of year to swim. But, I reassured him that the sea temperature is the same number as the air temperature at about 9 degrees. Technically true—but slightly misleading!

What I didn’t emphasise is that water conducts heat around 25 times faster than air. It pulls warmth from your body quickly, and because it’s denser, it intensifies that cold sensation. So while the sea temperature was around 8 or 9°C, it certainly didn’t feel like it!

When swimming, I often choose high tide, its lovely to slip into the water from the Jetty. Also during the winter, the afternoon sun only reaches the Jetty, the rest of the Bay is in shadow.

I silently entered the sea from the Jetty, using the ladder at the end. He, on the other hand, made his way in to the water using a lot of expletives. He did eventually and noisily make it into the water.

He was convinced it was -8.

Movement of Tides

On this day the tide felt very different. It was a neap tide – high low tide and low high tide. Normally, neaps here on Lundy sit somewhere between 2.0 m and 2.5 m at low tide. But on March 12th, the low tide reached a whopping 3.4 m—a higher low than usual—creating what felt like a compressed tidal range. It gave the sense that the sea was almost pausing.

Usually, after slack water—the brief stillness between incoming and outgoing tides—the sea retreats relatively quickly, revealing the beach. But on this day, the water barely moved. We managed our dip, but the shoreline never properly emerged, and the promised sea glass hunt never happened. It was a reminder that even when you think you understand the rhythm, the sea can surprise you.

The Walk Back

The walk back up the hill after a swim is part of the ritual. Many times I have refused a Land Rover lift, choosing to walk instead.

On this day, I encouraged everyone to head back via the Ugly. It is a much gentler route than the Millcombe steps, it’s also more beautiful. From there, you can look back across the bay and towards the Jetty. You can then see how the tide has shifted in the space of half an hour. On this day it was very little.

We were so glad we chose this path to the Ugly.

A Shape in the Water

As we stood at the Ugly, looking at Lundy’s most iconic view. Teresa, Lundy Head Chef, spotted movement in the water. At first, it looked like cetaceans.

We weren’t sure what we were seeing. Dolphins? but they were not breaching. Porpoises?—but one fin seemed too large. There appeared to be a line of movement, as if a mother and calf were travelling together. We passed binoculars between us, speculating, trying to make sense of it.

Fortunately, Teresa managed to capture some video.

When we checked with the Island Manager, a keen fisherman. He told us what we had just seen was the second largest fish. What we had taken for multiple mammals, turned out to be a single basking shark! Its long body moved just beneath the surface. It revealed itself in segments: snout, dorsal fin, tail. This created the illusion of several creatures moving in sequence.

Moments like that feel like a quiet reward for getting out in nature.

Tidal changes

As I write this blog, four days later. We are now experiencing super low tides. The lowest tide of the year in fact – What a great day to go up Rat Island. Instead we chose to have a dip on the rocky beach just by Rat Island. This avoided the very vertiginous ladder off the jetty, due to the super low tide.

We were rewarded with some wonderful marine wildlife – A very tiny seal, a starfish and two barrel jellyfish! Seems like the Easterly wind has brought in some interesting creatures.

Dreaming of the days of warmer seas

I love cold water dips. but now, I find myself dreaming ahead. I dream of warmer sea temperatures. I cast my mind back to all the early morning swims before work. I think of sitting by the water’s edge with breakfast as the tide turns.

Living here, you become attuned to these subtle shifts. You notice the wind changing direction, you hear the sea differently as it moves around the island. Just yesterday, as the wind turned south-easterly, you can hear the sea from within the village—a low, constant presence.

Living by the Rhythm

Watching the tides is a reminder that we are part of a moving system. It is shaped by the pull of the moon and the rotation of the earth. These rhythms continue whether we notice them or not.

I know that the tide shifts by roughly 40 minutes each day. Still, I find it quietly surprising.