The After Action Report 43

Other than feeling like a fire truck hit me, I am mostly thinking, wow - did that just happen ? and then: I am glad that I am not swimming the Channel today.  Or tomorrow.  And likely again.

But the swim : 3:15am wake-up alarm, 4am meet-and-greet the pilot, ECA observer and Nils (Red Top coach) at the boat, 4:15am chug out of the harbour to a pebbly beach below a chalky cliff, slide into the sea (cold ! salty!), 5am start swimming.

The pre-sunrise water ghoulish and my goggles fill instantly and keep filling.  Fuck.  The heaviness of the swim made worse by the Dover Cliffs which never disappear no mater how far I go.  This btw mirrored the second-half when the French coast stuck in place as I fly, parallel to the shoreline, on a strong tide eventually past Cap Gris-Nez missing the sandy Calais beaches before eventually landing on a rocky edge (NB I had to swim hard to reach France unaware of the potential drama of being swept back into the Channel and missing a beachhead altogether).

On the up, the sunshine on my back was divine, I had an amazing crew, and the Channel mostly flat eg perfect conditions.  Interestingly, to me, when I switched to a higher-tempo stroke to counter the tide I could no long hold a thought, nor sing a tune, and the swimming rhythm became meditative causing a trippy perception of time speeding up, noted from the programmed 30-minute hydration/nutrition feeds, which started to feel like five minutes apart.

Making the landing a lifetime highlight, yes, triggering a euphoric feeling that has yet to leave me.  A feeling that all the effort has been many times rewarded.

I am hopeful that the story will be retold, by me, my family and friends, well into the future, sitting on a sandy beach, looking into a never ending blue horizon.