Swim Report, ChatGPT Style!

ChatGPT did NOT enhance the Sea Lion Photo

Today's Swim Report, proofread by ChatGPT

Sunday marked the final day of Fleet Week. Finding parking would prove to be quite a challenge, to say the least. As for the swimming conditions, well, that remained a mystery until we actually got into the water. Remarkably, Katie and I both managed to arrive at the same time and snag parking spots on Polk Street, nestled between Bay and North Point, setting the tone for our morning with a delightful stroke of luck.

Early reports from fellow swimmers had indicated that the remaining flood might be scarce, and the ebb could come early. They also warned us about choppy waters and windy conditions to contend with. Undaunted, Katie and I made our way down to the beach. To our left, three speedy kids were huddled together, but I pushed aside any apprehension stemming from past encounters with such Fast Kids. We patiently waited for them to depart before we embarked on our swim. We hoped they would head east, as our plan was to go west. We knew that the B Team had started their swim about 20 minutes ahead of us, so it seemed reasonable to assume they were heading west. Finally, the Irish Pod would set off about 20 minutes after us. With caution thrown to the wind and determination in our hearts, we plunged into the open and unprotected waters of San Francisco Bay.

The scouting reports had been spot on. There wasn't much of a flood, if any, and perhaps even a hint of the ebb. Armed with this knowledge, we steered westward, against what should have been the waning flood. After a quick checkpoint at the opening, we turned left and used Fort Mason as our guide. As we rounded San Francisco's Muni Pier, we valiantly battled the relentless wind-driven waves. I can safely say that I exceeded my daily water intake on the way to the Gas House, the third and final Fort Mason Pier.

On days when the flood current is robust, we stick closer to the shore to escape its grip. Today, however, was not one of those days. We took the direct route to Fort Mason, arriving 23 minutes after our departure from the beach. It wasn't a particularly fast time, but it wasn't slow either—it was simply the time it took us to reach our destination. Interestingly, there was no one fishing off the first pier—quite peculiar.

We swam for another six minutes before reaching the Gas House pier, which marked the westernmost point of our journey. Along the way, we had to navigate an obstacle course of fishing lines near the second pier. At Gas House Pier, Katie proposed that we continue swimming to stave off the cold, instead of lingering to chat and solve the world's problems. It was an excellent suggestion, so we pressed forward, heading east towards the Creekers, which were about a mile away.

The persistent wind-driven chop added a bouncy element to our swim. Along the way, we crossed paths with the Irish Pod, who were hanging out at the first Fort Mason pier. We exchanged pleasantries before parting ways—west for them and east for us, towards the Creekers.

The return journey to Aquatic Park, which served as both the halfway point to the Creekers and a potential bailout point, presented opportunities to refine our rough water swimming skills while conserving our energy. It was a relatively uneventful stretch, marked by the simple joy of open water swimming.

After a quick check at the entrance, we decided to press on towards the Creekers. The waves and chop bouncing off the seawall created thrilling open water conditions. Side by side, we steadily approached the end of the seawall, also known as the Creekers.

What should have been an easy 30-second swim to this final point took an unexpected turn. A magnificent harbor seal, resplendent in its natural glory, floated between us and the Creekers. Given the recent instances of aggressive seal behavior in Aquatic Park, we decided to err on the side of caution and swam in tight formation back towards Aquatic Park.

On our return journey, we once again encountered the Irish Pod, now heading out to the Creekers. Later, we learned that our pinniped friend had moved away from the Creekers, allowing them to pass safely.

Despite the persistent wind-driven chop and a few near misses with fellow swimmers (thankfully, no blood was drawn), the final leg of our swim back to the beach was invigorating.

All in all, it was another fantastic swim, marking Katie's second Chas Lap, and providing me with valuable conditioning.

The clock read 80 minutes, with the Bay's temperature at 61º and the cove registering at 63º.