Wild Water

There’s a fine line between bravery and madness — and it’s about 780 feet above sea level at Gaddings Dam.

Have you ever lived in a place and known that you belonged? I mean really belonged — with no effort, no judgement, no thought. A place where every day feels like a quiet celebration of life, and the people and the landscape have that indefinable something that makes you feel utterly at home. A place where being different is celebrated, not scorned. Where honesty is valued, challenges are shared, and authenticity thrives.

That’s exactly how I felt the first time I ventured up to Gaddings Dam. It took my breath away — not just literally, but emotionally. The people I met along the way, each with their own story to tell, made me feel instantly at home. I quickly discovered that it didn’t matter what time of day or night I went — sunrise or sunset, solo or with a group — it was always magical. It still holds a very special place in my heart. 

Every wild swimmer has that one place — their go-to, where they feel held, soothed, and instantly better. For me, that’s Gaddings Dam. Up there, you are never truly alone. Whether it’s the cows keeping you company or the resident gatekeeper, Clive — a local legend who practically lives up there — it feels like a safe and sacred space, brimming with charm. But be warned: once you start wild swimming there, you might just get hooked! Incidentally, I never set out to be a wild swimmer — I just followed some mad friends up a hill one day and forgot to say no.

So, you can imagine my excitement when I was asked to be featured in Wild Water, a feature documentary released in 2024 that captures the essence of this very place. I was thrilled — almost as chuffed as when I became a gran for the first time! The filming took longer than expected, and by the time it was finally released, I’d almost forgotten what had been recorded. Nothing was scripted — it was all natural, filmed partly after a particularly difficult time for all of us, during what I like to call the fallout era.

Wild Water is set around Gaddings Dam — a hidden reservoir perched high in the West Yorkshire moors. It’s a wild, often blustery, and deeply romantic landscape, with links to Ted Hughes and the Brontës, and home to England’s highest beach. Every day, a rhythm of people come and go — runners, hikers, walkers, day trippers, and wild swimmers — all taking on the tough, broken footpath through hail, gales, snow, and sunshine. They come in all seasons, seeking connection, peace, or sheer exhilaration.

It’s a place where time stops. Healing happens. And nothing matters but the moment.

The dam has its own thriving ecosystem, and one of its highlights each year is the January Daily Dippers for Crisis, which grows in popularity annually. The film beautifully captures how this community uses the restorative power of clean, cold water — and the surrounding wild landscape — to reconnect with mental health, identity, nature, and each other.

I’m so proud of what Wild Water has become. It has already received awards around the globe and been screened in over fifty cinemas across the UK, taking on a life of its own through 2024–25.

The reviews have been incredible — described as “beautiful, quirky, lovable, with amazing scenery and great music.  Many have called it “heart-warming and inspirational,” and almost everyone agrees it will make you want to go wild swimming!

This year, it was shown at the Pretty Gritty Festival in Leeds — to a yurt packed with Prosecco, tears, and warm-hearted laughter. I slipped in quietly but was soon recognised! There are no words to describe how it feels when someone tells you that Wild Water touched them in some way. It’s a feeling a bit like watching my little granddaughter — that same sense of awe and pride in the small, beautiful things that mean the most.

It’s now available to watch on Amazon Prime, Apple TV, Vimeo, and other major streaming platforms.
Dive in — and maybe you’ll find your own special place too.  They say wild swimming is great for mental health. I say it’s also a fantastic way to question all your life choices — especially as your toes go numb.