Posidonia 10km Race. Ibiza - 2nd October 2022
I first heard about the annual Posidonia 10km race when I read an article published in Outdoor Swimmer Magazine by Ray Gibbs (of Swim Canary Wharf Fame). In his article, Ray explained how the 2021 race was called off after swarm after swarm of Jelly Fish kept appearing and Ray was stung approximately 36 times… these Mediterranean Jelly Fish are somewhat known as “bastardos” (no need to translate from Spanish) as they really do hurt, there were pictures to prove it of poor Ray standing by an ambulance being slathered in anti-venom cream.
Having grown up in Ibiza (my claim to fame is that my father opened the first nightclub there back in the ’70s); I was taken aback that such a race existed in Ibiza that I knew nothing about AND it was a race from the well-known beach Cala D’Hort out and around the island of Es Vedra, an island that is shrouded in folklore and legend.
The island of Es Vedra (and Vedranell) off Ibiza’s West Coast is where the Lay Lines in the Mediterranean cross; Es Vedra is full of Aluminium and is the third most magnetic rock in the world. Whenever one approaches it by boat on an automatic pilot, the compasses deviate off course. I’ve seen it many times. Not only that, boats have vanished without a trace around the waters and people have experienced alien landings from above - and below. I know this from the diary of a hermit, who lived and operated the lighthouse on Es Vedra for many many years; the diary was translated by a friend of my fathers and the hermit experienced all of these phenomena. What the diary doesn’t mention is the indigenous species of hallucinogenic plant that also lives on Es Vedra, so in fairness, the poor hermit may just have been hungry and high.
Es Vedra has spooked me all my life and I once vowed as a child that I would never swim in its waters… until I found Ray’s article, and curiosity or perhaps race envy got the better of me, and I decided to sign up. The chance to bury my fears perhaps? I also managed to convince my brother and a couple of other club swimmers to pop out and have a jolly with me. Clearly, I was betting on the old ‘safety in numbers adage’… (there’s also a 5km race for those unwilling to do the full 10km).
The weather at that time of year can be a bit hit and miss and when we arrived on the island a few days before, we were greeted with howling winds, waves and … swarms of jellyfish on our side of the island; although the weather did look like it would clear for the day of the race, which it mercifully did. A beautiful, clear, picture-postcard day arrived for race day and we were most grateful - except for the purple-headed menaces that potentially lurked beneath the warm sea.
At the briefing, the word ‘medusa’ (Jellyfish in Spanish) kept being banded around, and we were advised what to do when we saw one… basically swim away, or further out to sea. Great. Thanks for that. Solid advice! The 50-strong race party were told jellyfish were definitely about but not “swarming”…To be fair that’s fine by me, I don’t mind being stung particularly on occasion, and, as Ray Gibbs has said in the past, “a single sting should never ruin a swim”. It’s just the idea of many of them stinging at the same time that worries me and many others. Indeed, I had prepared for this eventuality with an Arena Open Water race suit (still non-wetsuit) to offer further protection than jammers; and slathering myself in a special, expensive suncream that was designed to protect you from the stings.
When the starter pistol sounded it became clear that neither idea offered the least protection as I was stung on my chest swimming directly into the only jellyfish near the shore in my exuberance to get out in front. Money well spunked, I though. Damn.
I quickly found myself in the lead and had a race plan in my head as to where I would feed (we were carrying gels in tow floats); and at my first feed at 3.5km, I was 300m or more out in front. All going well… but it was shortly after this that I hit my first swarm. I swam left, I swam right - I even swam back the way I had come and quickly realised that I was utterly enveloped, like a fat man sitting on a smartie. Except the fat man was thousands of tiny purple “bastardos” aimlessly floating in my area desperate to hurt me and I was the unfortunate smartie. There was no way through, I put my hand in the air and explained my predicament to the RIB nearby… while being stung repeatedly again and again. After being hauled into the RIB, the driver went back 300m to the chase group of four swimmers and picked them out of the water as well. Relived to be out, I began to think that either the race was over or (worse) my lead had been squandered! We were driven 100m out to sea, quickly checked the surrounding area (clear) and the race was back on. In we went, together… the race started, again. I think the organisers then altered the course for the people behind to swim around this marauding hive of stingers.
On we swam, cautiously looking at each other to see if we were being picked off like that scene in an Alien movie when everyone knows they are about to be eaten but daren’t scream… but no more swarms appeared.
The jellyfish did come in small waves from here on in and although I was stung at pretty regular intervals, they were more or less isolated incidents… it felt a bit like dodgems, to be honest. I pushed hard and managed to open up a decent lead despite the one-foot swell and a strong counter-current on the way back around Es Vedra. On the final few kilometres to the finish, in stunningly shallow turquoise water, I decided I could afford to enjoy myself, swim comfortably, and not worry about the chase group, as I felt I had enough of a lead... A luxury I have rarely been able to have in open water racing, I’m usually chasing a faster swimmer or have someone on my feet.
In the end, I was the overall winner in 2.26:25 and second place was 2.27:55… he was definitely gaining on me while I enjoyed the scenery.
I also got to enjoy the podium with a former club mate who came in third, followed by a large lunch of paella and sangria also enjoyed by my brother, Ray Gibbs (who wasn’t stung nearly as much this year) and other successful swimmers. A highly recommended day out in the Mediterranean sun.
I should also mention the amazing Kayak / RIB support - they were everywhere and managed the whole event beautifully. Everyone felt very safe despite the “bastardos” lurking beneath. A big shout out also to the paramedics braced at the end with jellyfish cream, who patiently covered everyone as best they could to mitigate the pain… Chapeau to the organisers: “Ibiza Blue Challenge”, it was a wonderful race and my demons of Es Vedra have been slain. I’ll be back next year.
Water temp: 26 degrees
Air temp: 28 degrees
