One woman's wild swimming adventures in the west country

Tavy Diplet

Helen Wafts

Helen Wafts

It’s unusual to have guests on my side of the moors; for some weird reason I’m an isolated wild swimmer in wild swimming heaven, but today Helen is visiting from Exeter. We pick our way down from Hill Bridge to one of the closer pools. There’s a precipitous pebble shelf half way up, a microcosm of the beaches at Beesands and Slapton. We stumble over goose-egg stones and drop in to the deep water, tasting the peat and the spring. It’s twelve degrees, and the river has lost her winter turquoise tint. It feels right to float again in bronze. Because of my back injury, I’ve developed an upright doggy-paddle floating walk and can’t get close to the cascade, but Helen swims in and wafts through bubbles. The branches above hang bare above luscious, erupting banks.

Honey Wallows

Honey Wallows


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6 thoughts on “Tavy Diplet

  1. good to hear you’re back in the water

  2. Don’t think I have ever seen such adventurous swimming here in South Devon. I wonder if any of our guests would pluck up the courage to follow your example – I can’t even get them to dip their toes into the water at Torre Abbey Sands!
    Beautiful writing and inspirational photos.

  3. Strange isn’t it? The jewel in the crown and people who live there don’t know what’s round the corner….Shows how much we’ve lost our knowledge of the wilds.

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