I was a non-swimmer, living miles away from Sydney’s glittering water belt. Taking up ocean racing felt like a badge of not only belonging to, but thriving in, this city of waterIt’s 7:45 am on a Saturday and my alarm blares. I am up. My swim bag is already packed; I snap on my one-piece with crisscross back straps that leaves dark slashes of tan. Gulping water and toast, I pass a carrot to Tally – who wags her tail appreciatively but is deeply unimpressed her morning walk will be delayed – and head downstairs.My ride is my neighbour R, a former life-saver hijabi. We are a well-oiled machine, carpooling for toll and petrol costs. In the quiet morning, Canterbury-Bankstown’s Palestinian flags on cars, manoush bakeries and bro-gyms give way to the skin-cancer clinics, juice bars and women in athleisure of Sydney’s eastern suburbs. Continue reading...
Sarah Malik, initially feeling excluded from Australian beach culture due to race and fear, overcame these barriers by joining women's swim groups and building confidence. After being made redundant, she dedicated the summer to exploring Sydney's beaches, from Bondi to more distant locations, claiming the beach as her own space and participating in ocean swims.
