It’s the morning of Christmas Eve, a time when most holiday-stressed mortals are rushing about, getting ready for one of the busiest days of the year. Not Bianca Liederer and Linda Mahnken. They’re lounging in the sauna at the Dolphin Club, getting ready for their second dip of the morning into the icy waters of San Francisco Bay.
“We have to get our miles in while the water’s still warm,” says Liederer, sipping hot tea out of a yellow Thermos.
And by “warm,” she means 55 degrees, bathtub water by bay standards for this time of the year, when temperatures typically dip south of the half-century mark.
She and her fellow Dolphin Club swimmers are racing against the clock, getting in their mileage to complete the annual Polar Bear Swim challenge, which started just three days prior, the first day of winter.
Each year, close to 200 hearty souls attempt to swim 40 miles between December 21 and March 21. No wet suits, fins, paddles, or other swim aids are allowed. For the achievement, Polar Bears get bragging rights and a Lucite trophy topped with a plastic white-furred ursine figurine.
In this bastion of quirky local tradition, the pressures of life in San Francisco melt away, the way a swimmer’s blood thaws after an icy “double dip,” which Liederer and Mahnken are performing this Christmas Eve day to tally their Polar Bear miles.
For about half an hour, they’ll swim around in Aquatic Park, the nearly circular cove protected by the curved Municipal Pier to the west and the historic Hyde Street Pier to the east. They’ll take a half-hour break to warm up in the club’s 180-degree sauna, then repeat.
Take a message
But modern life threatens to interrupt the club’s rhythms. For now, cell phone use remains forbidden. As a busy working mom who’s always on the go, I appreciate being forced to stow my iPhone safely in my locker when I’m at the club. I’ve been a member for more than a decade, and I’m happy to rely upon the club’s pay phone if I ever need to make an urgent call.
That’s right — the club still sports a pay phone. It’s affixed to the wall just outside the locker rooms. If someone needs to reach a club member, the phone rings, and whoever happens to be walking by answers (or perhaps doesn’t). There’s no voice mail here — messages are scrawled on the adjacent chalkboard.
The whole point of bay swimming is to shun convenience. Instead of lane lines, chlorinated water, and the indoor echo-chamber of a gym pool, we have the vast swimming hole of San Francisco Bay.
“You’re out in nature with pelicans and seagulls flying over your head, and the occasional seal in the water,” says Mahnken, of San Francisco, who started swimming because her bad knees prevented her from doing more joint-pounding sports. “You can feel the energy of the ocean.”
The strong currents, the bone-chilling temperature, and the threat of sea critters make bay swimming an irresistible temptation. You’re safer in the bay than walking or driving the streets of San Francisco, say the regulars. Just start gradually and know how to respond to the first signs of hypothermia, such as slurred speech, confusion, and a sudden feeling of warmth. The occasional frisky pinniped may nip at your toes or give you a bump, but injuries are rare. Getting a love tap by a furry friend is considered a badge of honor.
‘No Starbucks Internet’
“Swimming in the bay is definitely a rush,” says Alex Sigal, who took his first plunge into the bay in 2008 and joined the Dolphin Club four years later. “It’s never the same — that’s what makes it fun. Feeling the water, tasting it, is a unique experience. Some days, it’s a survival event, and other days, it’s really calm, smooth, and easy.”
Sigal brings the same measured perspective to the club’s tech debate: “Change is never easy, but sometimes it’s necessary.” He believes there’s a way to use technology in a respectful way that does not disrupt the sanctity of the club. “People in the Dolphin Club want the best club they can imagine. How they go about it may just be different than their fellow members, but in the end, everyone wants the same thing.”
Last fall, the club’s email list was on overload as members hotly debated the merits and demerits of free WiFi, cell phone use, and the pay phone.
“NO STARBUCKS INTERNET or use of phone inside keeps the Club the peaceful retreat it has always been. I joined the Dolphin Club because of its history and respect the policies of old!” wrote one club member.
Another member countered that WiFi “will encourage members to spend more time at the club even if they are not exercising, thus building a stronger community.”
On cell phone use, one member argued not to repeal the ban. “People can always step outside … People are important. One-on-one interaction, face to face, is important. You come to the Club to be part of the Club, not to chat on your cell phone.”
Concurred another member, “If we want a ‘get away place’ from the busyness of our lives, how can we accomplish that at the Dolphin Club with interruptions of phones ringing or loud voices from members using their phones?”
In the end, the club’s board members voted in September to continue the prohibition on cell phone use in the building; provide free WiFi; and keep the pay phone for the time being.
Sauna time
The debate over technology at the club is part of what we’re all struggling with, as technology and media infiltrate ever deeper into all corners and moments of our lives. The need for community and connection is strong, and all the more notable because, for so many club members, swimming in often-challenging conditions is a solitary act.
Once you’re out of the water, the club provides quiet spaces to read or gaze out its picture windows, as well as more social gatherings including happy hours, potluck dinners, music, and lectures. But the best after-party is sauna time. It’s where you “talk story” while slowly reclaiming feeling in your extremities. No topic — from politics to movies — is taboo in the sauna.
“I like walking through that door and knowing that I belong to this club,” says Mary Cantini, 74. “And the friends that I’ve made there, I’ve known these people for half my life now.”
Not admitted as members until 1977, women now make up a third of Dolphin Club members. The club has also given rise to some of the greatest female open-water swimmers in the world.
Cantini was captivated by the February 1982 Wide World of Sports telecast of the Ironman World Championship in Hawaii, when Julie Moss collapsed 15 feet from the finish line, losing first place to Kathleen McCartney.
Moss managed to cross the line, crawling into second place, and inspired Cantini to compete in the Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon. One problem: Cantini didn’t know how to swim. So at age 38, she signed up for swim lessons at San Francisco State University, and with encouragement from a longtime club member, started swimming in the bay. She joined in December 1982 and did her first Escape from Alcatraz. (She’s now on 25 and counting.)
“The water is really cold, so you get a swimmer’s high. It’s wonderful,” says Cantini, of San Francisco, who swims five or six times a week and continues to compete in open-water competitions and triathlons.
Rowboats and handcuffs
Most likely, few tourists or even locals have ever noticed the Dolphin Club and its “frenemy” neighbor, the South End Rowing Club, hidden in the shadow of the Ghirardelli sign next to the Hyde Street Pier since 1937. The two clubs were originally founded in the late 1800s — South End in 1873 and Dolphin in 1877 — as the city’s oldest rowing clubs. Swimming, running, and handball were later added to the repertoire of the club’s activities.
The club’s history weaves into the very fabric of San Francisco’s eccentricity. Exercise guru and honorary life member Jack LaLanne, shackled in handcuffs, famously towed a rowboat from Alcatraz Island to the club in less than 90 minutes on Oct. 3, 1974. “Under threatening foggy skies and a lively northwesterly wind which kicked up a vicious sea-chop, Jack completed the course in a time which many swimmers in the Club have never achieved,” touted the October 1974 Dolphin Log, the club’s monthly newsletter.
In 1981, the two clubs held the original Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon—a 1.5-mile swim from Alcatraz to Aquatic Park, a 14-mile bike ride across the Golden Gate Bridge to Mill Valley, and finally the 11-mile Double Dipsea, a challenging trail run over Mount Tamalpais and down to Stinson Beach and back. Participants are limited to Dolphins and South Enders. A similar commercial event by the same name (which the old-timers say is easier) was later established, allowing anyone to participate.
Although the club may, at times, give the impression of being stodgy, it has shown that it’s capable of change. Faded black-and-white photos of members past, mostly white men, adorn the wooden walls. Women were not admitted as members to either club until 1977.
Swimming in the bay and seeing Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge is so incredibly special. You know exactly where you are.
Bianca Liederer, dolphin club member
Not only are a third of the Dolphin Club members now women, but the club has also given rise to some of the greatest female open-water swimmers in the world, including Suzanne Heim, who crossed the English Channel twice in one year, and Kim Chambers, who completed the Oceans Seven — open water swimming’s answer to mountaineering’s Seven Summits.
Today, the 1,600-member club welcomes swimmers of all shapes, sizes and abilities, from competitive swimmers to recreational paddlers, ranging from teens to octogenarians like Mimi Osborne. Now 84, she attended many social events at the Dolphin Club with her husband, Dan, back when women were only welcome as guests. (Dan joined in 1961; Mimi became a member in 1979.)
These days, her arthritis makes walking and other physical activities difficult, but she’s still able to do her daily quarter-mile swim. “It’s become an irreplaceable part of my life,” she says.
For Liederer and Mahnken, cell phones and WiFi are the last things on their minds as they glide rhythmically through the water under the eerie glow of the moon and the Ghirardelli sign.
“I’m not from San Francisco,” says Liederer, 42. She’s originally from Germany, and with Mahnken, she swims several times a week after work. Swimming in the bay and seeing Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge is so incredibly special,” she says, “because it gives you a sense of place. You know exactly where you are.”
They wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.