For an island nation, the UK’s love affair with the sea is often more like a holiday fling. But some urbanites get so enraptured by its siren call, they jack in their jobs, sell their homes and chase their dreams of living a coastal life. There’s science behind the sea-as-serotonin theory: last year, research by Glasgow Caledonian University found that spending time near “blue spaces” (the sea, coastline etc) lowers the risk of stress, anxiety, cardiovascular disease and mortality too.
Yet, for all its restorative delights, it’s worth remembering the sea is not without its dangers. There are treacherous rip currents, destructive waves, stinging weever fish, plus temperatures so cold they can steal the air from swimmers’ lungs, rendering them helpless within seconds. Fortunately, Royal National Lifeboat Institution (RNLI) lifeguards patrol more than 240 beaches UK-wide, giving much-needed reassurance to the people who have made the sea part of their daily routine.
Here, we meet three former city-dwellers who made the switch from metropolitan life, to find out how they came to redefine their relationship with the sea …
Chris Sayer at Kennack beach. Photographs: Jenna Foxton
Surf and home turf
In March 2020, Chris Sayer and his partner, Maria, were driving back to London after a weekend in Cornwall. As they trundled down the A303, the radio and mobile alerts were full of news about an imminent lockdown. When their van broke down outside Guildford, the couple had a choice: return to London for lockdown or backtrack to the south-west, staying with Sayer’s parents in Devon.
They never went back to their London lives. That summer, the couple fulfilled a long-term goal of moving to the part of the country Sayer grew up in, and found a house in Penryn, Cornwall. For surf-loving media worker Sayer, who comes from a generation of fishers and studied at nearby Falmouth University, returning to the coast was kismet. “The sea’s been a magnetic force in everything I’ve done; when you’re not around it, you feel it,” he says.
For Sayer, now a senior copy editor at a creative communications agency and father to a six-month-old boy, a big draw is “getting into the water as much as possible”: Gyllyngvase beach is just three miles away. Paddling into the sea on his surfboard, with his black Labrador alongside, is an indescribable joy.
The local pride for the sea is one of the many reasons Sayer loves his new home. “Everybody in Cornwall has an understanding of how restorative it is,” he says. “People here are rightly protective of its beauty.” This extends to protesting against water companies dumping sewage into the sea; Sayer has taken part in mass “paddle outs” organised by Surfers Against Sewage, to call for better protection.
But for Sayer, there’s an edge to the idyll. Just two months after moving to Cornwall, he developed debilitating headaches, and was diagnosed with a brain abscess. Though removed, it left him with epilepsy. Because of the risks of having a seizure in the water, medics warned Sayer he’d have to give up his beloved surfing. “It massively impacted my confidence in the water,” he says.
It wasn’t until a specialist told him “as long as you’re with somebody, you can do anything you like”, that Sayer returned to his aquatic hobbies, though he never surfs alone. Luckily, water safety has been important to him since he was a Nipper (young surf lifesaver).
“I’m as proud of the RNLI as I am of the NHS in creating an identity for this country,” says Sayer. “Even though I’m hyper-aware about water safety, [the RNLI’s presence] puts my mind at ease on the beach, knowing if anything happens, they can help.” Fortunately, Sayer’s only encounters with the RNLI have occurred when the spine from a weever fish has stung his foot. “All surfers know the ‘walk of shame’, hobbling up to the RNLI who know exactly what to do: putting your foot in hot water,” he says.
“Living in Cornwall has definitely changed the way I approach life,” says Sayer. “I manage stress better and am the healthiest I’ve ever been. Being by the sea has been a huge part of my recovery process. I don’t know what position I’d be in now if I’d remained in London.”
Zeinab Lenton with her family at Tynemouth Longsands beach. Photographs: Garrod Kirkwood
Family value
Out on Geordie shores? Keep an ear out for the ever-colourful Tyneside vernacular. For instance, “plodge”, a word that onomatopoeically conveys the joys of wading in shallow water like no other. As Tynemouth local (and plodging fan) Zeinab Lenton says: “Sometimes it’s a bit much putting on your cossie. Just roll up your trousers, take off your socks and shoes, and get into the sea for a plodge.”
Lenton, who works in tech marketing, grew up by the coast, but it was the non-plodge-friendly corniches of Qatar and Saudi Arabia. Then, as a teenager, she lived in North Shields until the “lure of bright lights and indie discos” led to her living and studying in Nottingham for five years. In 2004 she moved to Tynemouth with husband Chris, and the dramatic shorelines of the north-east coastal town continue to inspire her. “Longsands beach catches your breath,” she says. “If there’s a prettier beach in Britain, I’ve yet to find it. Whenever I’m driving and see it round the kerb, I always think how fortunate I am living here.”
At weekends, the family love walking up the coast, taking in the 11th-century priory and castle, Tynemouth’s buzzing market, sampling the “superb” local fish’n’chips, or soaking up coastal views with a pint. Lenton also marvels at locals’ ability to make the most of the Tyneside weather, whether it’s the Steam and Salt beachside “sauna box”, or the Dip Club which sees sturdy souls plunge into the chilly North Sea. “There’s a real seize-the-day element here,” says Lenton. “If you’re waiting for a nice summer’s day to get into the sea, you’ll be waiting a long time.”
Her nine-year-old twins are currently having swimming lessons. “I obviously want them to become confident swimmers, but also to respect and understand the sea – they need to know about things like rip currents,” she says. “I’d really like them to become lifeguards. My cousin was a lifeguard … Until then, if they want to go plodging, they know they must go in between the RNLI flags.”
With further delights to the north along the Northumberland coastline, there’s always plenty to do. This summer, the family has a week off … which they’re spending in Tynemouth, because “we can absolutely have a brilliant holiday at home”.
Mark Smith at Littlehampton beach. Photographs: Peter Flude
Keep calm and swim on …
Down on Worthing’s pebbly beach, Mark Smith can often be spotted at sunset, sitting cross-legged with a singing bowl and group of people practising their breathwork. It’s all part of the mindfulness classes Smith teaches as part of his Kalm Horizons wellbeing business, established shortly after he moved to the Sussex seaside town in spring 2021.
“Just being by the sea makes people naturally calm down,” he says. “When you’re looking at the sea and horizon, your heart rate drops, all ‘clutter’ is removed … There’s something magical about it.”
Originally from Tasmania, Smith moved to London in his twenties, and spent the next 25 years in the capital, working in PR and freelance journalism. The first warning signs urban life was starting to grate came 12 years ago. Anxiety and stress-related stomach pain saw him take up meditation – something he still practises. During lockdown, Smith and his husband realised they weren’t hankering for all the things – theatre, live music, restaurants – they thought they’d miss about the capital.
Now their house is three minutes’ walk from the beach, with the pair loving creative life in a resort whose reputation is morphing from retirees-taking-sea-air to the number one Zoom town in Europe.
Smith has also taken up cold-water swimming. After six weeks of cold showers using Wim Hof’s cold-water immersion techniques, Smith took his first dip in March 2021, when the English Channel was a boreal 7C. “Yes, it’s bloody freezing, but you emerge from the water with your mind and body feeling fully present, and with a smile on your face,” says Smith. “It’s like entering an ethereal otherworld. It brings the anxiety down straight away and completely resets my day.”
Cold-water swimming has been a panacea in other ways. A few years ago, Smith suffered a head injury, leaving him with persistent headaches. Cold-water swimming “instantly takes my headaches away, like free medicine”, he says.
Smith – who also swims at Littlehampton, Bognor Regis and Bournemouth beaches – is careful to stay safe in the sea. With experience lifeguarding as a teenager in Australia, he says “water safety has been instilled in me. [The RNLI’s] patrols are so important because so many people get into trouble.”
Even when not swimming or meditating, Smith walks by the sea every day. “Moving [to the coast] has changed my life completely, more than I could ever have imagined,” he says. “I’d heard the call of the sea but ignored it until I couldn’t any more.”
Play it safe this summer: visit an RNLI-lifeguarded beach. If you get into trouble in the water, float to live, until help arrives.
