They then told me three hours to go, informed me that the crew could see France and told me to look up. I could see it! It was motivational but I have been miles from land before on a swim and it takes a while to get there. At this point I hit probably my tenth (and last) patch of floating weed. One so thick I nearly had to climb over it – yuck! Not a single jelly fish seen at this point – and beyond. I also only saw 2 imaginary sharks during the swim – well down on my ocean average! Just for completeness they tell me that they waived me away from a petrol slick at one point during the swim. I saw nothing, smelled nothing and just assumed I was zigzagging again!
Two stops later and they told me two hours to go and my stroke rate went up. This was the second time I felt cold – I yelled “COLD” while swimming – hoping the crew would adjust the feeds. My wife told me later that it just broke her heart to see me alone in the water – clearly in pain. They mixed up warm tea with glucose and brought me in after 20 minutes for a feed. I didn’t feel the early stoop but sure felt the next one of 40 minutes. The crew wasn’t letting me off easy!
Two stops later and Martin told me 6 miles to go. Instead of one hour it was closer to three. I tried to shake off the ton of bricks that just landed on me and reset to do the six miles. I hoped that I would not get another surprise. I had come too far to stop. My left arm is weaker and contributed all swim to the “veer left” to start the zigzagging pattern. Now it was losing even more power. My kick is pathetic at the best of times – so I tried to compensate for the left arm by increasing the kick.
The captain’s mate was at the side of the boat to feed me a white pill and a nut bar. I was alert enough to recognise that he was checking to see if I was getting hypothermic. Didn’t really want to take unknown food (it was an energy pill) but down it went.
I started to now have serious problems in the water. I was sure the coast was to my left and with the weak left arm anyways kept me veering that direction. The boat crew were getting more and more agitated and persistent in waving me back and yelling at me to stay next to the boat. I could see and hear it all – just couldn’t help them out most of the time. They later told me that the coast was to my right and I was trying to swim parallel to the coast and was not following the boat in.
Maybe deep down I knew it didn’t matter. Ciaran has lost his “Swim for god sakes!” face and he had the biggest smile imaginable. I knew that he was confident I would make it! In addition, we did manage to get about 30 minutes of sort-of-sun at this point. After nearly 20 hours in the channel this summer I had wondered if the sun ever did shine out there. They delayed a feed at this point by 15 minutes as I was on the verge of beating the tide. I never knew – I was just slogging it out in the water.
In the middle of all the trouble keeping on track, the crew went crazy at one point. I looked up to see a big sail boat bearing down on me. I guess no radio! It gave us all a scare – but at least it moved me closer to the boat.
I could now clearly see the beach. It was like something out of a novel of 19th century China. There were massive flags on very high poles about 300 meters from the shore. I just focused on the big blue one and tried to get in. The mate then launched the small inflatable with engine and was soon buzzing around in front of me. I thought he was completely out of control as he zigzagged all over the place. I could see the blue flag and was heading towards it – he was just playing games with the little boat. A shocking large percentage of Channel swimmers get pulled in less than a mile from France and my wife later reported that I was rapidly becoming such a candidate. They thought I was delirious. I was hurting but it would have taken a few of them to drag me in!! My initial stroke rate of 68 dropped to 56 in mid-Channel right before the feeds but always jumped back over 60. In the last hour my shoulders had dropped, pull was not as effective but I finished at 62 strokes a minute!
I touched bottom in waist high water and stepped forward in big crashing waves. My legs surprisingly worked and were steady. I took about 10 steps forward to clear the furthest reaches of the big waves.
My English Channel swim was almosts complete!
About the Author: Ned Denison played water polo goalie in the USA and England for twenty years before taking up open water swimming in 2000. His move to Cork Ireland allows all year sea training (no wet suit)in temperatures ranging from 7 to 17 C (45 to 63 F). Active in Cork Masters (www.corkmasters.ie) and up to 200 local open water swims annually in Ireland (openwater@corkmasters.ie) keeps him fit. Ned plans to join 50 other Irish swimmers on 30 Sept 06 for the Alcatraz race and then take on the 26 mile Santa Barbara Strait the next week.
