Hutzell: At 68, I swam across Spa Creek in Annapolis. The best part was the company.

Amy Clements and I talked as we swam 400 yards across Spa Creek, heads above the blue-green water.

We were at the back of the inaugural Spa Creek Conservancy swim in Annapolis, 12 people wading into the cool water on a warm Friday afternoon to celebrate public access to clean water.

Plus me. I was there to mark a different milestone, my 68th birthday. Can you think of a better way?

Clements is the president of the conservancy, a volunteer group that’s worked since 2007 to clean up the waterway that winds through Maryland’s state capital. It’s a small creek — just two miles from its headwaters to the Severn River and the Chesapeake Bay beyond.

But it is a famous creek. It forms Annapolis Harbor, a witness to the earliest days of American history and, today, a destination for pleasure boaters.

Yet nobody — well, hardly anybody — swims in Spa Creek.

“This is beautiful,” I said, as we paddled past a sailboat at anchor.

“Yes,” Clements said a few strokes behind me, “it really is.”

I’ve swum in open water, from Ocean City to San Diego, the Irish Sea to the Sea of Cortez.

But I’m a jump-in-and-paddle-around swimmer. And because I was turning 68, I was nervous about making a fool of myself crossing from shore to shore.

So, a few days before, we met in Eastport. We talked about safety — boats and paddleboarders would escort swimmers — and Clements’ decision to create this swim between Truxtun and Amos Garrett parks.

“We’re not saying that this is a way to show that there’s very little public water access,” she said. “But it is, kind of, because you’re going from Truxtun to Amos Garrett, which are both public water parks.”

The inspiration came from Katie Pumphrey’s 2024 Chesapeake Bay swim from the Bay Bridge to Baltimore, and from the Harbor Plunge — if that much larger city’s water is clean enough for swimming, Annapolis’ should be, too.

Spa Creek is cleaner than it’s been in years. Much of that progress comes from the conservancy’s work across the 2.4-square-mile watershed.

It’s a compact, urbanized basin, stretching outward through tiny, unnamed streams and rivulets. They reach into neighborhoods and shopping centers — areas covered with roofs, driveways and parking lots.

When it rains, water washes down into the main stem, carrying trash, poop and other pollutants.

So, in addition to restoration and cleanups, the conservancy has been testing water quality for a decade. The Anne Arundel County Health Department does it after a rain, when water conditions are at their worst.

The conservancy, though, is one of a handful of groups that test local waters weekly. The results aren’t a public health warning to avoid contact. They are a barometer of the creek’s well-being.

Right now, Spa Creek is clean enough to swim. Clements pulls out a printout showing the testing sites. Green markers for clean water dot the open waterway. Only upstream, deep within those arteries and far from the open water, do they turn red for bacteria.

“This is back in Truxtun Cove, where we’re doing work now,” she said, pointing at the map. “We’ve just started testing in there, where the numbers were so bad. But these are like little streams.”

Spa Creek isn’t just a place where the rich dock their million-dollar boats, although it certainly is that. It reaches up to Mount Olive AME and Bates Middle School, and to car dealerships and fast food joints on West Street.

The headwaters are on the site of the long-ago city dump, and cleanup there has pulled out truckloads of trash. More remains.

Annapolis is cleaning up the old ash dump buried near Weems Whalen Field. It’s left over from the days when the city burned its trash.

People are in Spa Creek, if only in small numbers. Kids from St. John’s College on a hot day, Hispanic fishermen wading in chest-deep.

The Truxtun boat ramp is always busy, and the city finally fixed a scary stray electrical current on the metal dock. Signs remain, warning in Spanish against swimming.

“We think the good news is it’s not gotten worse since we started,” Clements said. “I think studies are showing that these things take a while.”

Friday, I parked and walked down to the Truxtun Park ramp.

Two Annapolis aldermen were on the banks: Frank Thorp from one side of Spa Creek, and Rob Savidge, whose ward includes Back Creek.

Kevin Haigis was there, too. He’s the founder of Capital SUP, a paddleboard outfitter in Annapolis and Baltimore. We were both wearing short wetsuits.

“That’ll keep you nice and warm,” he said.

I brought swim fins for an extra kick, too. Amy offered me a kickboard, and not being too proud, I accepted.

And so, we waded in and kicked off.

Immediately, Amy and I were near the back of the pack. Savidge swam competitively in college, and so did several other swimmers. Thorp had a Navy career. I think the schoolgirl behind us was holding back to avoid embarrassing me.

The water was perfect, 72 degrees and sparkling with sunlight. Clear enough for me to see my fins kicking below.

“How old are you, Amy?” I asked as we rounded the point.

“I’m 72,” she said.

Her volunteers are mostly gray, and I wondered how many live on the creek. We studied the beautiful homes and boats.

“None, actually.”

Thorp would later tell me he grew up swimming on Hawkins Cove, behind us at Truxtun Park. He’s put a swim net out for his grandkids.

This is what Clements wants — an inviting waterway, where more people learn the value of clean water.

So another generation steps up to fight for it.

Twenty minutes after we started, we pulled out of the shallows onto the pier at Amos Garrett Park. Thirteen people swam across the creek — one where hardly anyone swims.

“Happy birthday!” someone said.

I can’t think of a better way to celebrate.