14e. Have I Missed Something?
October 1st, 2008What a crazy week it turned out to be! Having been down to Dover for the early part of the week and then returning because we decided to be patient and wait for better conditions. I got a text from my pilot at 10am on Thursday morning
‘U to start tom morning at 1am mate ? Midnight at boat?’
I checked the wind and it was looking great for that night and the next day, so decided to go for it. Also quickly checked to see if my support crew could make it. Unfortunately Steve and Matt couldn’t; Gowyn was uncertain. I decided I was going to do it anyway, so I booked a flight down to London Gatwick for 2pm - charged home and got my passport (you’ll see why later).I arrived at Gatwick at about 3:30 and then had to catch the convoluted train system down to Dover. I was relatively calm at this stage.
It proved to be a rather awkward time to depart, because it wasn’t really worth getting a room, so I slept for a couple of hours in hotel Vauxhall Vectra (I had left him down there earlier in the week). Luckily my mates had started to hear word that I was swimming, so calls and texts started to pour in. Eventually my phone cracked it and refused to operate…for the rest of the weekend (so apologies to those who didn’t get a reply). Later that night, Gowyn and Jase Parkin arrived in Dover and I gave them a run down of what to expect and how to be best prepare as support crew. Luckily Ali (my pilot) had requested an experienced observer, Sam Jones, to organise feeds.
We got to the marina at midnight and found the gates open, so went in and unloaded the car. Gowyn returned it to the hotel, whilst at the same time the police turned up and questioned us about a suspicious car… and why we were here.
“Just about to swim the channel”
“As you do”
Ali arrived not long after and we packed the boat. The weather was still holding up well, so everything was looking great. Leaving the dock was probably the most nervous I got. The lads were all joking about and that really helped take my mind off it. The ride out of the harbour walls and then down the coast were vastly different to that of the relay or even Steve’s swim - it was relatively flat. I started to get ready and Jase applied the Vaseline under my arms and back of my neck. This was to stop the chaffing.
Once the boat had got within about 30 metres of shore, I jumped and swam in. I remember consciously trying to relax and just let the waves take me in. I walked up the beach turned around and got the signal. I tried swimming slow, but with the adrenaline flowing through my body this proved to be easier thought than done. I believe my stroke rate in the first hour was the low 70’s.
So what do you think about in the pitch black? I remember watching the full moon - for ages! And also trying to find stars in the sky (it was quite a clear night). I watched the boat a bit to see if I could see anyone. I saw Jase or Gowyn wrapped up really warm, but it didn’t bother me. I knew that the water was considerably warmer that what I had trained in and also that the speed I was going would keep me warm. You must also bear in mind that water holds it’s heat a lot better than the land, so even though it was quite cool, the water was only say a degree colder than it had been during the day.
I also remember seeing a lot of ferries during the 2nd and 3rd hour. They looked amazing all lit up. I remember one in particular, that seemed to stay beside me for ages. There was also the occasional jellyfish that crashed past and ’said Hi’, nothing like the one in Granton, but it was nice to know I had company. Interestingly, Radio Al didn’t seem to want to play. I tried to remember a couple of songs, but I just couldn’t get into a rhythm with them - not even Willie Nelson’s ‘On the Road Again’, which had been a favourite for the past week.
As a swimmer swims relatively slow compared to a boat, the boat has to sometimes rev up and go ahead of the swimmer and then slip into neutral and wait for the swimmer to catch up. This happened a couple of times and each time I would ‘collide’ with the boat, because I couldn’t see it. They were politely asked to switch the lights on when they went ahead. Looking back, it was also my first hint to my right bias.
We had decided that for the first three hours that I would feed on the hour and then we would go on the 1/2 hour after that. At the end of the third hour, I was quite excited because it felt like we were on the home straight. I was swimming well, having had my stroke rate finally plateau at it’s normal rate of 60, and the pilot also thought this and let me swim right through to the fourth hour. At this stage, they shifted me to half hour feeds, but I don’t recall much of what happened during this time.
At about 6am the sun started to come up and this was quite an exciting time for me. I remember looking around to see where the sun was going to come up. In my head, this was the hardest part completed. Swimming for quite a while in the scary night and it was probably going to be the coldest I got too.
Sun up: Instantly Warm.
Change in temperature: Negligible. Love the mind games…
And those were starting to play. I must have completely lost count of feeds, because I recall thinking at one stage, I’m pretty close to the other side. Then this enormous ship appeared.
<Oh no! This is the first shipping lane. I’m not even halfway.> This was the lowest I felt during the whole swim. In fact, just quietly, I cracked it with myself.
“AM I SWIMMING THAT SLOW?!”, I howled.
“No mate, you’re swimming fine, just fine” - <Get on with it ya bloody windbag!>
<Grumble, grumble..>
I had made a pact with myself to keep feeds as quick as possible because of it’s effects extending your swim. Without knowing the specifics, I think I did pretty well. It was the other end where I was having problems. Since you are swimming and exercising for such a long period of time, you have to feed on a concentrated drink of carbohydrate. Now sooner or later your body says it’s had enough and you start to feel bloated (well I did anyway). Quite by mistake, I was given an Electrolyte drink at this time. It’s purpose is to flush your system so you can start with the Carbohydrate drinks again. Need I say it worked with a vengence?
It was also around this time that I started to get into French waters and if it hadn’t been glass flat before, it most certainly was now. What a pleasure to swim in! Warm and wonderfully clear. <To the lady at the back - No I didn’t see or smell any garbage at any time>. The second half of the swim, if I can describe it as that, just flew past. One difficulty I did have was staying close to the boat. As mentioned above, my right bias had become more pronounced as my stroke became more tired. I had decided to switch the side of the boat I swam beside, and in hind sight, I should have switched back earlier.
I’ve been told this is what proved to be the difference between landing at Cap Griz Nez and where I did eventually land. I believe I got within 300 metres of landing at this point at around the 10 hour mark, but due to the above and the tide changing this was not to be and I was swept up the coast. I didn’t actually realise I had got that close at the time - just keep swimming - and I’m not sure how I would have reacted if I had of and still missed it.
But I do know this. When Gowyn got in the water, it was either to lead me into shore or support swim with me. I couldn’t see any land, so it had to be the latter. No offense mate, but I once described him as a swimming washing machine. And here he was thrashing beside me?! <That bad huh? How embarrassing. We shall have to double our efforts!> In the spirit of friendship, I made sure he couldn’t keep up and they luckily dragged him out minutes later.
What made things even more confusing was it felt like we were turning around or heading parallel to the shore, which was what was happening, only problem was, I didn’t know why (at the time). Here I was trying to focus, when my head was also telling me that this wasn’t making any sense. Trust your pilot.
<Okay, focus she knows what she’s doing, she’s got a better line of sight than you. Follow the boat Al, let it guide your actions..>
There comes a point, where if one misses the Cap that you swim into Wissant Bay. I had read from another very knowledgeable pilot, Mike Oram, that there is a place where the tide from Wissant Bay meets the tide travelling up Channel past Cap Gris Nez and they collide and create the ‘overfalls’. One body of water going out into the Channel and the other moving up it. This creates a body of choppy water and couple this with the final part of the swim makes this a tough place to be.
.
This part of the swim took incredibly long to complete. I remember having to almost reprimand myself from looking up. <You’re not allowed, you will hit land when you finish> It was also immensely disheartening watching the water particles race under you out to sea. <I’m not going anywhere… there’s definitely no way I’m swimming that fast…>. I can understand why it is called the graveyard. Expletives, the Greek God of Swearing, would have been proud and I’m not even sure a tub of Electrolyte would have remedied my bloated mouth!
I moved to the other side of the boat again. It was a case of putting your head down and doing it. It was now that I had to dig deep. I had no doubt I would make it. I was sure I would make it. I kept saying to myself ‘Keep your arms going…keep your arms going’. I could also see the Lads hanging over the side of the boat willing me on. Expletives bolted out of my mouth at the sight of them - I think they inquired how long the bay was.
It felt like I was getting battered, but this was probably because I could have ice skated across the previous 10 hours had it been frozen. I can’t impress upon you how long it felt. Knowing you’re so close, but also knowing you’ve got to keep going for another couple of hours. And then I saw rocks below me.
Tired?! Woo! I’m sprinting baby! Fisher & Paykel, I’ll meet you in there!
…. Okay, I can barely stand - Don’t touch or help me or I’ll get disqualified… wait… wait for a good photo…rah rah rah..
Okay, now I’m good.
Has the hooter sounded to say I’m finished?
Better take one more photo.
This may sound crazy, but getting back into the water to swim back to the boat was bliss. It felt warm and comfortable. Of course, couldn’t let Gowyn beat me back either. Nice one mate, you’ve swum 14 & 1/2 hours and you’re racing an appliance back to the boat.
Getting up the ladder proved to be a bit of a mission, Jase and Ali pulling me up with Gowyn pushing me. Once on the boat, I just lay there in blankets and towels. More mentally exhausted than physically. It felt quite surreal. Basically dozed on the way back to the harbour and then it started to take it’s toll. The Lads organised and got me back to a hotel where they fortunately put me in a disabled room. The handles proved very helpful as I rescued myself after a long bath. Bedtime was about 7pm and I slept straight through… to the 7am morning breakfast call.
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FOOTNOTE:
After not having solids for over 21 hours, I happened to be fairly hungry the next day, not that I particularly felt it, but took a guess after I noted what I ate. This included a bowl of cereal, another of porridge, English breakfast, yoghurt, pack of biscuits, bunch of bananas, snickers and some lollies I found in the car - all before 10am.
Why did you bring your passport if you don’t get checked when you land in France? I had joked with my mates that I would be swimming to Oktoberfest, when my tide got pencilled in. This turned out to be almost exactly the truth. Twelve hours later I was there celebrating with my mates. What a weekend!!