We're basically swimming in other people's poo
Along England's rivers, a quiet crisis of contamination meets a quieter act of civic defiance. Of fourteen officially designated bathing sites, only two carry water clean enough to swim in safely — yet campaigners wade into the rest on purpose, understanding that the act of designation is itself a lever of accountability. In a system where monitoring triggers investment and publicity compels action, the willingness to name a polluted river a bathing site is less an invitation than a demand. The water, for now, remains dangerous; the pressure, by design, is building.
- Twelve of England's fourteen designated river bathing sites are rated 'poor', with E.coli levels at some locations reaching tens of thousands of units per 100ml — more than ten times the threshold for swimmer warnings.
- Warning signs telling people not to swim are posted at nearly all monitored river sites, even as the government announces six new locations will enter the monitoring system this summer.
- Campaigners are knowingly swimming in contaminated water as a deliberate tactic, having learned that official bathing designation is one of the few mechanisms powerful enough to compel water companies to invest in cleanup.
- The designation triggers mandatory hourly Environment Agency testing, creates reputational pressure on water companies, and unlocks new funding and performance obligations — none of which would exist without it.
- Water companies warn that labelling unsafe rivers as bathing sites before cleanup plans exist risks misleading the public, while campaigners argue the public is not misled — they are mobilised.
England's designated river bathing sites are almost uniformly unsafe. Of fourteen locations tested by the Environment Agency, only two — the River Stour in Suffolk and a stretch of the Thames in Oxfordshire — meet acceptable water quality standards. The remaining twelve are rated poor, their waters laced with bacteria from human and animal waste, and warning signs now line their banks.
The government has nonetheless announced six new river bathing sites to be monitored this summer, including the first official testing point on the Thames in London, bringing England's total monitored bathing locations to over 460. The results are published publicly, making contamination visible in ways it never was before.
At the River Wharfe in Ilkley — the country's first ever designated river bathing site — E.coli counts can surge to tens of thousands of units per 100ml after rain, against a warning threshold of 900. Campaigner Di Leary describes it plainly as swimming in other people's waste, then wades in regardless. Her colleague Karen Shackleton explains why: designation forces the Environment Agency to install continuous monitoring equipment and compels water companies to treat the river as a performance obligation. It is, she admits, absurd — but it works.
In Shropshire, Alison Biddulph has overseen the designation of three bathing sites across the Severn and Teme rivers, all currently rated poor. She swims in them anyway, avoiding the water after heavy rain, and expects meaningful improvement within five years. The monitoring is already running. The pressure is already applied.
Water Minister Emma Hardy frames the expansion as a win for transparency and local tourism. Water UK, representing the industry, cautions that designating sites before cleanup plans exist risks confusing the public about safety. The campaigners, however, are not confused. They are swimming in contaminated water on purpose — because they have learned that naming the problem, officially and publicly, is the fastest way to make it stop.
England's river bathing sites are almost uniformly unsafe. Out of fourteen designated locations tested by the Environment Agency, only two—the River Stour in Suffolk and a stretch of the Thames in Oxfordshire—meet acceptable water quality standards. The other twelve are flagged as poor, their waters carrying dangerous levels of bacteria linked to human and animal faeces. Warning signs are now posted at nearly all of them, telling people not to swim.
This grim reality comes as the government announces six new river bathing sites will be monitored for the first time this summer, including the first official testing location on the Thames in London. The expansion brings the total number of monitored bathing sites across England to more than 460, though the vast majority remain coastal. Rivers and lakes are increasingly joining the roster, their water quality results posted on a government website for public view.
The contamination is real and measurable. At the River Wharfe in Ilkley, Yorkshire—the first river ever designated as a bathing site, back in 2020—E.coli counts can spike to tens of thousands of units per 100 millilitres after rain. The threshold for warning swimmers is 900 units per 100ml. Karen Shackleton, from the Ilkley Clean River Group, describes the situation plainly: sewage overflow pipes discharge directly into the water. Her fellow campaigner Di Leary is blunter still, pointing at the pipe and saying, "We're basically swimming in other people's poo," before wading in anyway.
This apparent madness is actually strategy. Campaigners have discovered that designating a polluted river as a bathing site is one of the most effective ways to force water companies to act. The designation triggers mandatory testing by the Environment Agency—testing that would not happen otherwise. When poor results are published, they create political and reputational pressure that unlocks investment. Shackleton explains: the Environment Agency installs continuous monitoring equipment, testing water quality hourly. For the water company, designation opens access to funding and new performance objectives. It is, as she says, "disgustingly bonkers" that the best way to clean up a river is to officially invite people to swim in it.
In Shropshire, Alison Biddulph has overseen the designation of three bathing sites—two on the River Severn at Ironbridge and Shrewsbury, and one on the River Teme at Ludlow. All three currently rate poor. Yet she continues to swim in them, simply avoiding the water after heavy rain when raw sewage spills are most likely. She expects real improvement will take five years, but the machinery is already turning. The daily, hourly monitoring is in place. The water company's attention is fixed.
The government frames the expansion positively. Water Minister Emma Hardy said the new sites mean better monitoring of waterways, a boost for local tourism, and greater confidence for swimmers. Water UK, which represents the water companies, sees it differently. A spokesman told the BBC that designating an area as a bathing site before it is suitable for bathing, and without a cleanup plan in place, risks confusing the public into believing the water is safe. It is a fair objection, though it misses the point: the campaigners are not confused. They know exactly what they are doing. They are swimming in contaminated water deliberately, betting that the designation itself will eventually force the contamination to stop.
Notable Quotes
This wasn't about wild swimming. It was about putting something in place so that the Environment Agency had to come and test the river, because they don't test rivers as standard.— Karen Shackleton, Ilkley Clean River Group
Designating an area as a bathing water before it is suitable for bathing and without a plan in place to clean it up risks confusing the public, who will rightly believe it is safe to swim there.— Water UK spokesman
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why would anyone swim in water they know is unsafe?
Because the act of swimming—or more precisely, the official designation that allows testing—is what creates the pressure to clean it up. Without designation, the river gets no monitoring, no data, no leverage.
So the campaigners are using their own bodies as evidence?
In a way, yes. They're saying: this river is used by people, it matters, test it. And once you test it and publish poor results, the water company has to respond.
But doesn't that put swimmers at actual risk of illness?
It does. Some of them acknowledge that openly. They just avoid swimming after heavy rain, when the sewage spills are worst. It's a calculated risk, not recklessness.
Why don't water companies just clean up the rivers without needing to be shamed into it?
Because there's no financial incentive until there's public pressure. A polluted river that no one officially monitors is a river that costs nothing to fix. Designation changes the equation.
And the government is expanding this system even though most sites are unsafe?
Yes. They're framing it as progress—more monitoring, more transparency, more sites. But the water companies see it as a trap: you're labeling places as bathing sites before they're actually safe to bathe in.
Who wins in this situation?
The campaigners win eventually, if the system works. The water companies lose money and face. The swimmers win if the water actually gets cleaned. And the public wins if it leads to real infrastructure investment. But in the short term, everyone's in a Catch-22.