Michael Cullen

Sea swimming season is almost upon us again.

Some bathers are wary of swimming on beaches near to where seals congregate.

However, there's little cause to be concerned.

That's my belief, anyway.

While I've had several close encounters with seals during my regular swims at the Forty Foot in County Dublin down the years, my experiences have been uneventful.

It's never been more than a curious seal pup playfully twisting and turning below me, or the occasional adult popping its head above the surface to see who's intruding on its trusted corridor to Bullock Harbour.

By showing seals the respect they deserve and keeping your distance, by and large everything ends up swimmingly.

So says my friend and neighbour Mark Leslie.

Mark is a seasoned sea swimmer and seal aficionado.

Mark cherishes being underwater filming a plump of seals.

It's why his fellow swimmers in Sandy Cove call him the Seal Whisperer.

Mark assures me he's on first-name terms with what he calls the Wahoo tribe, a moniker he coined for the local herd of seals whose HQ is Doki Island.

If Mark is not down at the Forty Foot for his early morning dip, chances are he's over by the Old Baths, where sub-aqua divers gather at weekends exploring the depths with his seal friends in Scotsman's Bay.

He calls it the Seal Garden.

There he swims with Beamish, Doris, et al.

amid the green and orange fields of kelp.

Other less energetic seals take to the nearby rocks, lazing in the sun and rolling about in slow motion.

The seal garden is also a ballroom of romance for those in search of their ration of passion.

Once Juliet adopts a banana pose and gets a little frisky on the rocks, Romeo knows it's time for action.

When the deed is done, the couple perform a victory swim.