Oamaru Harbour Open Swimming Society (OHOWSS) Report: Sea life in the harbour

One of the thrills of swimming in the Oamaru Harbour is the potential contact between human swimmer and other species that live in and about the water. These can be divided into three groups: birds, visable sea creatures, and those menacing spectres that lurk, unseen in the eery depths.

There are several species of seabird that nest, or at least amiably pass a few hours, around the edge of the harbour. As you approach Sumpter Wharf, the shags and gulls start to take an interest in your progress, and will buzz you within a few feet of your head. If you have not seen "The Birds" by Alfred Hitchcock, this is completely enjoyable. I am not sure what they are on about. Perhaps, encased in rubber, I look something like a seal, maybe leaving a trail of half-eaten fish carcasses in my wake. maybe it is just curiosity. I find it comforting when they wing by, and would miss them if they were all suddenly vapourized. I have not yet run into a penguin, and would not particularly wish to. They strike me as a bit standoffish. Other bird species in the area ignore me, and I will return the favour.

Sea mammals are of special interest - fellow sucklers of their young and all. In truth, I have only run into mammal in these waters once, a vague brown thing that I think was a fur seal. He was large and fast. I take some pride in my swimming ability, and indeed that of humans in general, who are remarkably adept in the water for a bunch of tree-dwelling ape descended bipeds that have no real business being there. But, we are sad, awkward things in the water next to these graceful, furry simpletons.

I can't comment on the fish life as the water is too murky to see much of anything below the surface beyond a fathom or so. I am sure they are very nice.

It is the third category, the hidden monsters, that most occupy one's thoughts. Sharks always come to mind. Shark attacks are rare in these parts. I have heard that sharks will sometimes bite down on a person, then spit them back out. Apparently even the corpulent modern human can be too lean for their tastes, which tend to blubbery seals. Still, the possibility of a sudden ripping attack from below is always there. What a way to go.

Leopard seals are perhaps more terrifying, and they are occasionally sighted in these parts. They are big: up to 3.5 metres in length and 500kg in mass, with large prehistoric jaws that allow them to take a good, big bite. Only one fatal attack is recorded, in Antarctic waters where they are most common. In that case, a leopard seal dragged a doomed 28 year old marine biologist deeper and deeper until she drowned. Another person had his leg chewed, also in the Antarctic. Ernest Shakleton's record of his 1914-1916 Antarctic expedition also records an attempted attack.

However, it must be remembered, dear readers and potential OHOWSS members, that that kind of thing is vanishingly rare, especially in friendly Oamaru Harbour. Your life is in far more jeopardy from that Big Mac you are scarfing down while reading this. And, although I am not any sort of thrill seeking risk taker, there is something about swimming above all that rampant life that is strangely invigorating. Occasionally, when peering down into the inky depths, my imagination conjures up ingeniously scary beings from the shadows, and moments of panic follow. These generally pass quickly, and are replaced by elation at my great courage in the face of the deep.

Conrad