Sun rises in a ball of fire at 5:47 am.

Sunshine Sarah and Radioman Paul take photos of it, already up on Facebook. The Taxman got a similar shot last Friday morning, also up on FB.

Must be one of the most shot sunrise points in Sydney at the moment.

Session taken by Sunshine as she leds up out from the beach, left ladder 1 and back. Run to the rail on the right and touch the post by the abandoned ladies sky blue swimmers.

Back out to left ladder 2.

In again.

Left ladder 3.

Right ladder 1.

Then 2 and 3.

Repeat.

Then Left Ladder 1, Right Ladder 1, Left 2, Right 2 and so on until New Zealand.

Journo and daughter Greta Garbo, Iron Dee, Dublin Elaine, Radioman, the Jockey and a cast of others parade up and down the body of water.

Lots of lifting and looking as the deal is once the fastest swimmer gets to the target ladder,  all turn back and race for the beach.

Kind of a natural handicapping system.

Kind of a natural advantage to a chap of dubious character lurking at the back of the pack, dragging the sea anchors along the rocky bottom, winking at the blue groper along the way, lifting and looking all the while like a salt water crocodile on a Christmas visit to a Billabong near a backpackers hostel in Far North Queensland.

Splash of water by the target!

Lurker turns in a flash and is stroking away like a lunatic for the beach.

Yes.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

Victory and glory in sight on the deserted beach, sole witnesses clumps of seaweed, the groper, bits and pieces of flotsam swirling about the murky depths.

Flash of pink hat to port as Uber Ironman zips past.

Flash of yellow hat to starboard as Sunshine hurtles by, behind Uber by a close second or two.

Dubious character left floundering in their wake as the rest of the squad catches up and soldiers past.

Foiled again!

Wetsuit and sea water at 19 degrees C not optimum except if the ocean is bristling with bluebottles. Hot water streaming down the inside of the sleeves and out by the wrists. Starting to overheat and struggle with energy levels so rip the fucker off back on the strand and leap back in Speedo naked.

Cool mountain spring advertising jingle circa 1978 cascades of icy water showering some poor prick digging holes in the desert looking for oil – the mindscape of relief triggered by cool water on parboiled skin.

Freed of the rubber suit, surprise at the degree of freedom of movement in the water. Prisoner freed from the padded cell. Frolicking about like an albino seal keeping up with the rest of the eejits at the back.

Meanwhile, El Spotto has taken the runners off down to Coogee and back, stopping for a leisurely couple of laps of the bay along the way.

Photo shoot of the swimmers exiting the third ladder on left, running up the hill, backdrop of Coogee and Wedding Cake Island. That extra 2kgs over the Christmas brings the total to 104kg, well into the Clydesdale range, so sucking in the gut big time and hoping the man boobs are not jiggling and wobbling too much in the early morning breeze. Keep going like this and pretty soon will need a fucking bra!

Last swim of 2012.

Driving through Surry Hills, sunlight and breeze wave the foliage of the trees lining Foveux Street on the hill down to Central, shade of Major Joe nods and God whispers gentle in the Emerald city at the close of the year.