Where to swim in the great outdoors with the Dolphin Club in San Francisco

Diane Walton still remembers the first time she jumped into the icy waters of San Francisco Bay nearly 20 years ago. “It was so cold I thought my organs were going to explode!” says the 73-year-old, her long gray hair blowing behind her as we sit on a wooden pier and enjoy the bright California morning sun. One of the local sea lions lined up on the beach laughs in response.

Today, the water lapping at our ankles is a cool 12.7 degrees. But that’s not noticeable from the swimmers around us, who are putting on their goggles and cheering happily as they wade effortlessly into Aquatic Park, an urban beach on San Francisco’s northeast shore.

Like clockwork, Diane swims here four times a week against the movie-worthy backdrop of the Golden Gate Bridge. But this morning, in her role as president of the Dolphin Club—a volunteer-run open-water swimming and rowing organization founded in 1877—she’s showing me the club’s beautiful mahogany boathouse, which sits at the head of the dock.

Originally a men-only club, it has developed over the last few decades into the Dolphin Club – one of only two remaining swimming clubs in the city. Women are now

make up nearly 40% of its 2,000 members, who range in age from 18 to 94. And while the club has working-class roots, it now represents a diverse cross-section of San Francisco residents—there are young tech bros and aging hippies sharing the sea with an ever-changing roster of in-the-know visitors who are allowed in three times a week.

“When I swim outside, the mundane conversations that are going around in my head just dissolve,” says Diane as we watch a young woman in a black bikini dive underwater. “It’s like a miracle.”

She says she often shares the sea with herons, sea lions, seals and sharks – “but only the very small ones,” she says with a reassuring smile. She adds: “We are a remarkably diverse group that comes in all shapes and sizes – this is a safe place for everyone.”

While it’s admittedly still considered a little unusual to dip in the bay, San Francisco has always been shaped by the water. Today, wineries like Treasure Island, on a tiny island that was once home to a naval base, take advantage of the high humidity and cooling mist to create unique, small-batch drinks, while downtown, numerous restaurants are getting creative with the sea’s treasures. One standout, Chīsai Sushi Club, has incorporated the invasive purple sea urchin into its menu, allowing diners to restore the ecosystem as they feast.

Many members of the Dolphin Club have been swimming in the bay for decades – some for 60 years, she says. “All the research shows that the happiest people are those who are physically active and have community,” says Diane, as a man in his 20s does star jumps on the ocean shore nearby to warm up.

I spot Quinn Fitzgerald strolling down the pier towards us in salmon pink swim trunks and a takeaway coffee. I’ve never swum anywhere more strenuous than a heated pool, so Quinn has offered to support me on my first attempt at a cold-water swim – or be my “bay doula,” as he prefers to call it. “You’re going to have a transformative experience,” he promises with a knowing smile as we trudge across the cold sand in our swimwear. I’m still undecided – we’re diving in without wetsuits, which Quinn thinks detracts from the authentic experience.

As the water rises above my waist, it feels like the air is being ripped from my lungs. Perhaps noticing my expression to distract himself, Quinn begins to run through the history of the city’s swimming clubs. He tells me that they began during the Gold Rush, when ordinary civilians would greet passenger ships docking from Europe and rush across the water to help the VIPs ashore first, with the promise of a lavish tip. Behind me, I hear the cable cars dropping off tourists at the nearby Hyde Street Pier.

Then, all of a sudden, it hits me like a wave. After submerging my shoulders and paddling a leisurely lap, I begin to understand the attraction of these waters so clear I can see the sandy sea floor shimmering beneath me. I feel dizzy, then my mind clears, followed by a rush of euphoria. “I get it,” I say excitedly to Quinn.

He grins. “Next, you should try swimming to Alcatraz,” he says, telling me about the 40-year-old New Year’s tradition in which a school of 99 brave swimmers from the Dolphin Club and the neighboring South End Rowing Club race from the notorious prison island back to shore in a brisk 1.25-mile crossing.

“Alcatraz is probably the most famous open-water swimming spot in the world,” he says, treading lazily toward the shore. “It really captures the imagination – the fact that it was a prison and that escaping from it has long been a myth.” Back on land, our hero is greeted in the inviting sauna of the Dolphin Club.

Inside the cozy pinewood den, swimmers of all ages sit on the benches, busily mapping out various sea routes and discussing the tide tables. Steam rises from our thawing skin and a sense of easy camaraderie fills the tiny space. A few of the old hands even open a beer.

That morning, each of us had stripped naked and, counterintuitively, jumped into San Francisco Bay, emerging completely invigorated. As Quinn puts it, “Everyone who experiences the waters of that bay always comes away a better person.”