At each bridge I would look up to the next one and estimate the number of right arm stokes to reach it. The tide still unbelievably fast and my first estimates far too high - I would tell myself: "400 strokes Ned…come one!" The joy then to fly past on the 200th stroke! I eventually got real good at these predictions and I sped by ten more bridges. Craig signalled madly by patting his head. It didn't make any sense: a bridge with low clearance? I finally looked up just at the perfect moment to take a big wave smack in the face. Ok - now I understand the signal! Later Craig held his left hand up and poked away with his right finger. Another signal that stumped me until he seem to extract the splinter in his hand!
Still swimming strongly without a care in the world when I realized it I could see the "C". I graduated (barely) from the old Ivy League School - Columbia and famously some students painted a large blue letter "C" with white edges (school colours) on the rocks across from the University boat house. My first time seeing it in person but I knew we reached the top of Manhattan Island.
I looked up once, then twice then a third time to confirm the Spitting Devil in sight - a half mile ahead. You can't get confused with just one low swing bridge on the course and most importantly just at the junction of the mighty Hudson River. The last challenge on my swim plan and I relaxed my stroke for a few minutes and started to focus - show time! I lowered my head, forced my dead legs to start kicking again and my arms drove harder through the air and pulled the water harder and faster. I focused on swimming strong and waited for the water to deliver the first punches. I kept swimming and waited and waited. Next thing I knew I shot under the Spitting Devil with the tide still driving me forward. In the Hudson and headed at a 45 degree angle out away from the shore. Overwhelming relief: I stopped, threw a fist into the air and let out a yell. The swing bridge trapped the safety boat and Krista's boat and I could hear them yelling, clapping and sounding a few horns. The hard part over - I could just roll over on my back and float to the finish if needed!
I could see the massive George Washington (GW) Bridge in the distance - I thought 700 right arm strokes (1 mile) and headed off. Within seconds Craig tapped his head for the incoming waves. Feeling like superman, I swore at them and decided to just power through. Bam - I lost! The entire Hudson looked a mass of angry and confused waves. The cigarette boat racers surely contributed but it seemed mostly wind against the normal river flow - a real mess. It started to dawn on me that the Hudson might not follow the plan: "home stretch - just float to the end". I found it very tough pounding out those 700 right arm strokes but I kept my head down and just focused on the kayak. Finally I looked up and the GW Bridge still looked several miles away and then it really hit me.
Emotionally spent, the Hudson became the toughest leg at my worst prepared moment. By now the boats caught up and my spirits lifted as several from Krista's boat launched cannon balls into the water. During the next terrible hour I lost focus and stopped several times to try and gather myself. Spirits very down when Emilio handed me the bottle. I bought a can of chicken broth Thursday and gave it to Mike and now medium hot soup hitting my mouth. Wow - spirits back up again and I took off stronger.
I passed the GW and wondered about the ½ mile long sewer works off to my left. Several swimmers expressed a lot of concern about the huge intake danger but nobody mentioned the outfall! Several more swimmers passed me with Craig busy directing me out of the way of several floating logs and sticks. At one point I saw a new signal a "double armed frantic come to me" and I just missed a black sailboat coming up the river. More than half way down the Hudson two things happened at the same time: a massive cruise ship started to back out of its berth (into the path of the swimmers) and bolts of lightning hit the Jersey shore - less than a mile away. The call went out to pull all swimmers out of the water. My two kayakers went onto Krista's boat (with their kayaks) and I boarded the safety boat.
More craftiness came into play at this point. The crew opened my emergency bag and as I got out they excelled! On went the flannel lined ice fishing trousers, a long fleece lined water/wind proof poncho, wool hat, polar gloves and they poured warm water into neoprene scuba boots for my feet. Pure heaven after a session in Hudson hell! It gave me a chance to properly say hello to Shelly and thank Captain Howard and Tim for all their great work. We motored up to a marina (and I confirmed the reality of the angry/confused waves!) as the rain started to come down. A nice couple invited us all into their enclosed boat. Anne's hourly call came in and I said hello.
More than and hour later we got the call to get ready to re-enter which we did a full 90 minutes after the stop. I felt better getting in than getting out - no other swimmer prepared better! Several swimmers froze with just a skimpy towel for warmth during the break and quit the race.
The last hour plus went quickly and when the safety boat stopped at North Cove and waived me on I knew several hundred metres remained! With the kayakers and Krista's boat on the right and cheering crowds on the left I hugged the wall and returned to the steps in South Cove. I enjoyed one of life's great feelings coming out of the water strong in 9 hours 51 minutes (which counted the lightning time). An experience yes - but always a race - so:
- 12th solo swimmer out of 25 - of which only 19 finished
- 92 seconds behind 11th
- 13 seconds ahead of 13th
- Second oldest finisher
About the Author: Ned Denison played water polo goalie in the USA and England for 20 years before taking up open water swimming in 2000. His move to Cork Ireland allows all year sea training (no wet suit) in temps from 7-17C (45-63F). Active in Cork Masters, up to 200 local open water swims annually in Ireland keeps him fit. Ned logged other articles on his English Channel and Santa Barbara Channel Swims.
