The sun was on a merciful retreat down behind the Manhattan skyline on Thursday evening as the Floating Heads of Douglas Manor dropped their overheated bodies into the glassy waters off a pier jutting into Little Neck Bay, in Queens.
The Floating Heads are a group of devout swimmers who regularly enjoy the waters in this part of Douglaston, an exclusive Queens neighborhood.
One of them, Cindy Strauss, 64, stretched across the water-stained floating dock and sighed.
âItâs the only place to be,â said Ms. Strauss, a retired American Airlines flight attendant, who, like the other members of her group, calls this spot sublime.
New York City health officials do not agree. They have told beach operators to keep the beach closed to swimmers because of high fecal bacteria counts pushing the water quality beyond acceptable standards.
Contamination at this beach is not unusual and, in fact, has been going on like this for years. The city runs weekly tests and often posts an advisory against swimming at a gatehouse, which is then routinely ignored by the Floating Heads, and other local swimmers.
City health officials said the beach was closed because of poor water quality, but declined on Friday to comment directly about the continued swimming at the beach.
Generally, a spokeswoman said, contact with contaminated water may cause illnesses like vomiting, diarrhea, nausea, respiratory illness and infections. Also, children, pregnant women, the elderly and the chronically ill have an increased risk of illness.
The Douglas Manor Association, a homeowners group that runs the beach, requires swimmers to sign a form acknowledging that they recognized the risk and were swimming in spite of it.
The Floating Heads includes veterans who have been swimming here for well over 50 years, in the shadow of the Throgs Neck and Whitestone Bridges, in waters fed by the East River.
Some navigate the pier using canes and walkers. The lore goes that the water is so murky and brown that only their heads can be seen floating around the swimming area; thus, their name.
Swimming off this century-old pier has been a way of life here for decades and the local game is dibble, a swimming contest in which children - and sometimes adults - jump in after a Popsicle stick. The game is said to date back to the 1940s.
Some swimmers call these waters their âfountain of youth,â and say the waters are curative â" despite the cityâs Department of Health and Mental Hygiene regularly identifying the beach as having among the highest levels of pollution in the city.
There are several major sewage points in the Little Neck Bay area, and fecal bacteria counts here spike after heavy rains, when the cityâs sewer system can overflow directly into these waters.
The city is limited in its enforcement role, however. It requires the beach operator to post a sign that swimming is prohibited, and posts the information on the health departmentâs Web site.
Some of the swimmers on Thursday evening criticized the cityâs testing methods, claiming that testing once a week and calculating averages cannot measure pollution levels that change drastically every few hours as the tide flushes the bay.
On the floating dock, Ms. Strauss shrugged and said she had been swimming here for decades with no health repercussions.
She begins swimming in April, wearing a wet suit. She sheds it by Memorial Day and swims daily - sometimes twice a day â" through October, and sometimes into early November.
âWe know the situation, but everything is a risk,â she said. âI swim with ladies who are in their 80s and theyâve never gotten sick from this water. The kids get sick from the swimming pool, not here.â
Irmgard McKeever, 79, said, âIâve been swimming here for 43 years and never had an ill effect.â
âI understand the city has rules and has to post what they find, but what else are we going to do on a hot day like this?â she said. âThe pool is too warm, and I prefer salt water anyway.â
The key, she said, is to keep your mouth closed.