Fuss-bait

All it takes is one WhatsApp message, and the hard-as-girders swim group, the Fussers, are there (and if they’re not there, then they’re not Fussers and they won’t be invited back). Goggled up. Ready to swim in the same water that extreme, polar ice swimmer Lewis Pugh trains in when he feels the need to pull up his socks.

But why are they called the Fussers? Because they don’t fuss. Not about sharks, routes, swells, jellies, chafe, seals, numb toes or even wetsuits. And they’re riding the current wave of worldwide fascination with “wild” swimming, because of the many reported health benefits of cold-water immersion. And something more intangible, too.

Dave, No-Show Roy, Sammy-J, JHog, Pete and Ropes – two IT fundis, a change management specialist for a nationwide retailer, a doctor, a structural engineer and a farm rep. A right ordinary bunch of Capetonians. The very rediscovery of ordinary. You sense there’s an inner couch potato fighting to get out.

I’ve blagged an invitation. Missing an invitation is deleteriously bad etiquette. Roy is on his last warning. They’ve accepted, and I admit it, I’m a wee bit fussing inside. Somehow, I manage to end up at the front of the group, trying to stride nonchalantly into the 11°C water