Iain Macwhirter: Gordonstoun was right about the benefits of cold swims – but don’t go wild

This is all baffling and inspiring in equal measure. It’s as if a collective decision was taken by thousands of people, men as well as women, that they are not going to fear discomfort any more and are going to immerse themselves in it. An act of defiance, perhaps, against our increasingly coddled and over-protected environment. Stress? We embrace it.

Our own Vicky Allan is one of Scotland’s leading proponents of cold water play. Her recent book, Taking the Plunge: The Healing Power of Wild Swimming for Mind, Body & Soul, records how this activity has become a national passion, almost a religion. She happily swims in winter waters with nothing more than a bobble hat.

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Now I’m very much in favour of wild swimming, even though I rarely go into Scottish water without a wet suit. This is mainly because I don’t like my nether regions being frozen, but also because I was brought up to treat Scotland’s waters with great care. I was always advised, by old mountain hands, that no matter how hot and sweaty you feel after a day on a Munro, never dive into a loch. This is because Scotland’s lochs are often colder than the North Sea. And you might not come up again.

You can see where I’m going with this. Wild swimming in lochs is a wonderful thing, but it is also a dangerous activity – as we saw at the weekend when six people died. There has been shock and bewilderment that even good swimmers can be overwhelmed by waters as apparently benign as Loch Lomond. But our lochs rarely rise above 15 degrees in the height of summer. And that is cold – deadly cold according to the World Health Organisation. Olympic swimming pools are kept cool for the athletes, but water there is rarely below 27 degrees.

A view of Loch Lomond from Pulpit Rock, Ardlui, where a man, a woman and a nine-year-old boy tragically died on Saturday evening. Picture: Thomas Nugent/Geograph

So we need to treat cold water with respect because it can take life as well as enliven it. However, I hope that these weekend tragedies won’t lead to a backlash against cold swimming. There are inevitably calls to “do something” following the headlines that accompanied last weekend’s tragic events. But we don’t want local authorities erecting fences and banning bathing or imposing no-go zones like those we have seen recently against wild camping.

The bereaved quite naturally feel that more should have been done to prevent such appalling loss of life. And they are right. But the way to respect their loss is not to go in for a health and safety panic but to look at ways to make this activity safer.

We clearly need more education about the effects of cold water, now more people are seen bathing in it (and using inflatables, which is another issue). Most of us are woefully ignorant about currents, tides and the effects of wind. An instructor at one water sports centre told me that he sometimes has to inform people that the sea level actually rises and falls daily.

We probably need more warning signs, and more life-guards at popular spots. Above all we need to make swimming compulsory in schools. Forty per cent of Scottish children leave primary school unable to swim, 60% in deprived areas. This is a poor record for a coastal nation like ours. Scotland has a longer coastline than England and 2021 is the Year of the Coasts and Waters in Scotland.

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Some have suggested temperature forecasts, like the weather. But the truth is that thermometers will only tell us what we know: that Scottish waters are always cold even on the hottest days. The Scottish Government perhaps needs to be just a little more careful with its website, one page of which urges people to “wild swim on some of Scotland’s many lochs” to improve mental and physical health. During Covid, it goes on: "you can ensure you aren't near anyone else.” Hmm…probably not. Swimming alone is not advisable. But it is not necessary to replace that advice with dire warnings.

Instead of alarm it should instil a sense of awe.

Cold swimming is to be encouraged. It is inspiring to see people, quite elderly in some cases, showing what they are made of. All sorts of exaggerated claims are made by aficionados of cold water. It cures depression, boosts immunity, helps weight loss. So does a walk in the country. But swimming in Scottish waters takes more than that: it takes guts.

Wild swimmers resent the comparison, but they are discovering something that public schools like Gordonstoun always knew: that cold showers and icy swims boost our energy levels and resilience. It is an exacting discipline: overcoming fear and realising that our bodies are actually designed to cope with stress, not run from it.

We adapt to cold just as we adapt to altitude. Through training, and daily cold showers, humans can and do swim in waters as cold as 5C and below. This is the level at which most people would suffer hypothermia or even cardiac arrest. Indeed, according to the National Centre for Cold Water Safety, breathing difficulties can occur at any temperature below 20C, five degrees hotter than Scottish summer water.

Andy Murray always dunks himself in a wheelie bin of ice after a match to aid recovery. The sports world is divided over whether this actually improves performance or just makes him feel good. But it works for him. Just don’t try it at home.