From time to time my life intertwines with seaweed. A couple of years ago I organised a ‘seaweed swim’ as part of a course assignment for my Master’s degree, which involved my dippers’ group and a guest speaker. It went well! Everyone seemed to learn about seaweed and had fun. It left me feeling happy and keen to organise something a bit bigger one day.
Last year, I met Zoe from Mountains to Sea Wellington / Love Rimurimu. Zoe is an ocean advocate and is behind a lot of Wellington’s marine education/celebration/restoration. I admire her immensely. We had fun throwing ideas around and I said I’d like to help organise a sea swim event, so when Zoe started planning NZ’s first Seaweed Festival she asked if I’d like to do a ‘seaweed swim’. I attended the first festival meeting in September, where a group of people talked about swimming, films, cooking, photography, tattoos, music, scientists … basically, everything we could think of that might be fun and involve seaweed!
It’s amazing how everything from that first meeting came together (with a lot of work from many people behind the scenes) to form the week-long list of events at the festival! The only one I can claim even partial credit for is the sunrise seaweed swim on March 1st. It was rewarding to see it progress from an idea to the event itself, especially because I tend to have great intentions but lose steam along the way once other life things compete for attention. But in this case Zoe and her team kept the momentum going and we had check ins every month or so, and emails at other times, to figure out the details and make decisions.
Apart from deciding when (Saturday, sunrise, 7-8am), where (Island Bay Beach), who (everyone who wanted to come), what (a joyous splash into the sea at the marine reserve) and why (because we can!), we had to nail down the health and safety plan, which was in the safe hands of Ben, the MtSW health and safety coordinator. Planning a public swim event was a new experience for me: how many people would turn up? What if the weather wasn’t good? Would a random keen bean try to swim off into the sunrise?
Ben and Zoe asked me to ‘recruit’ about a dozen volunteers from the local swim community to help out in the water and on land. I started by asking people I knew and then expanded into posting in online swim groups. As the event grew closer a few people pulled out due to other commitments, but friends of friends were available to step in. Phew!
Fortunately the weather report looked pretty good, aside from a bit of wind. And when my alarm went off at 5am on Saturday, I sprung out of bed (I’d woken multiple times to check I hadn’t slept in) and drove around the south coast in the dark. At the beach, Zoe and her team were already there setting up the tea and food area and at 6am my volunteers started arriving. I had my swim torch on a chain around my neck but it was hard to see who was who at that point – once the sky grew lighter it was much easier! Ben gave us pink swim tops to wear and whistles to tie around our wrists, a check-in form, and a briefing on what to do that included whistle blow signals, a buddy system, and so on.
At 6:30am there was a karakia (blessing) on the beach to open the festival, which was really special. Then Zoe, Ben and I all spoke briefly about the swim. What I said was probably mumbly and unremarkable – something about how awesome seaweed was and our lovely swim community, and then it was time to get in. The water was cool but not freezing, the surface was calm, and we’d placed buoys marking the swim area so everyone stayed close to shore. There was definitely a good turnout but not an overwhelming number of people. I swam around chatting to other people, touching bits of kelp and sea lettuce, and then it was time to get out for seaweed-infused tea and scones. The general vibe was relaxed and happy, and the feedback was that everyone had a good time. Hooray!
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A few days later there was a seaweed-inspired yoga event. I’d booked a spot but almost texted to cancel because my day had been a stressful one. But then I remembered part of Janie the yoga instructor’s booking confirmation message: “Even if you’re feeling tired, come anyway.”
I drove to Island Bay at 6pm, couldn’t find a park, dithered, and almost went home again. I’m so glad I persevered because it was just what I needed: lying on mats in the evening light of the small community hall, with plumpy pillows and soft blankets, imagining we were stones in the sea and gently waving our arms like seaweed, breathing out sighs with ocean sounds playing in the background. I floated home again.
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The final night of the festival involved an evening of sea shanties at my local yacht club. On a calm, sunny Sunday it was a perfect end to the festival. I’d done a nice big (2km) morning swim in the harbour and even enjoyed another dip in the late-afternoon heat, so it was very much an ocean day.
We were handed a booklet of shanty lyrics, I got a temporary tattoo (although I’m enjoying how it looks on my forearm…) of seaweed wrapped around an anchor, and the band started playing with the enormous windows of the yacht club framing the sea and hills behind them. Off went the fiddle, drums, accordion and guitar, while we all sang and swayed and stomped along. It was The Wellington Sea Shanty Society if you want to have a listen!
I loved the festival and hope it happens again next year, and that I get to be a part of it.
P.S. On Saturday I visited a friend who happened to be collecting seaweed from the beach to add to her compost (she also uses it for tea), which has inspired me to buy The Seaweed Forager book.
Love this Shona and so sorry to have missed it ❤️Sinéad
Sounds great fun.
Our local beach is currently haunted with a fine brown seaweed that forms a dense mat allowing no light in. In the water, it breaks up into fine fragments that actually stain the water. I'm trying to find out what it is and am hoping that it's not exploding in growth with the warm summer plus the nutrient rich sea-floor from the disgusting salmon pens a few kms away.
This summer, the water has been too warm to grow any salmon in the east coast pens and so TASSAL have been growing seaweed instead. But thankfully the seaweed they're growing on longlines is giant kelp which was depleted to almost extinction when an alginates factory existed on the coast.
Gosh, our poor environment.