FLOREAT 2017
The first hour went quickly and it was time for my first ‘feed’. My only concept of time, apart from the sun arching over my back, were my feeds, due to happen every hour for the first 6 hours and every half an hour after that. Feeding primarily came in liquid form but occasionally I would have a solid treat such as half a banana, a few Jelly Babies or a cube of Thorntons caramel shortcake which was my favourite! My staple diet though, was a complex carbohydrate dissolved in warm water with an added splash of summer fruits squash for flavor. A bright orange cup was dangled over the side of the boat swinging from a string. Fearing any contact with the boat would result in my disqualification (marked by the observing official onboard), I swam carefully towards the boat. The cup was lowered further for me to reach it. While treading water I drank the lot in one go, dropped the cup which was then reeled back onto the boat and I continued with my swim. It was important to keep swimming as any stopping meant I would start to shiver and feel uncomfortably cold. I would always try to think positively and focus on my swimming technique but often my mind wandered. I would think about the boats that crossed on D-day or the Spitfires that fought overhead during the Battle of Britain. I also had the company of the notorious Channel jellyfish. In patches the water turned pink beneath my body as I could see hundreds if not thousands of them. As I
trod water for too long after a feed one slashed its tentacles across my face almost as a wakeup slap that this wasn’t a dream. Moments like these, and invaluable messages of support via social media thrown overboard with my feeds, kept me going. The sun eventually dropped past the horizon, night time swimming was a daunting experience. I no longer had the warmth of the sun on my back and jet black water seemed endless. The crew had strung glow sticks and LED balloons along the side of the boat so I could see it but as I plunged my head back into the inky sea every stroke seemed like an extended blink. The end in sight I could see the lighthouse on Cap Griz Nez flashing but the crew wouldn’t tell me how much further to go as the tides were shifting and it was difficult for them to predict. I seemed to be moving further away from the lighthouse but I was determined to make it after coming so far. A few more feeds passed until I saw a light aboard the pilot boat come on. I knew at this stage I must be close as I saw an inflatable rowing boat being dropped into the water. The pilot boat was too large to go in shore so the observer armed with a torch boarded the rowing boat to follow me in land. I kept pulling with everything left in my arms as the shoreline felt close but the darkness made it impossible to tell how far away it actually was. Within a few strokes the feel of the water changed. I suddenly felt as if I was moving faster without any more effort. I had reached an inlet in the French coast line and broken through the tidal pull. I waited with anticipation at every stroke hoping to feel the ground with my fingers. Eventually, as I was counting another 100 strokes, I pushed my hand into the water and felt rocks covered in seaweed. I pulled myself to my knees, stood up and walked
out of the sea onto French land. The bizarre feeling of standing had never felt better and I raised both arms in the air with a joyous cry to mark my achievement. I had played the finish over a 100 times in my mind before but the actual moment was truly surreal. With the pilot boat and crew too far away to see I took a minute alone to realise I had actually made it and fulfilled my dream. I am pleased to say that after battling choppy seas, hours of solitude, the dark of night and the notorious jellyfish I successfully reached France in 13 hours 49 minutes. I would like to take the opportunity to thank everyone for their support. I hope my story will inspire others to seek adventure. I am not suggesting swimming the English Channel. But try something that takes you to your limits, tests your determination and challenges your body and mind. !
Boarding the support boat in France. 49
FEATURES
was choppy as the strong winds from the day before still hadn’t fully disappeared but my initial focus was to think of this swim as just another training exercise, to find a rhythm and relax. This was easier said than done as in the first few minutes my mind was racing with questions: Did I stretch enough? Will I get cramp? Are my goggles on too tight? Is the weather going to calm down or get worse? What if the boat runs out of fuel? Are my crew alright?