Rep Gabe Vasquez

Photo from the El Paso News

Eitan is working his socks off on the Gabe Vasquez re-election campaign in the 2nd District of New Mexico on the border with Mexico. In 2022 the 2nd District was the most closely contested congressional seat in the US where Gabe defeated Republican incumbent Yvette Herrell by 1,224 votes out of several hundred thousand cast.  

A first-generation Mexican American, Vasquez represents a predominantly hispanic community who tend towards anti-choice and anti-immigration (a reality is that first generation immigrants are the most aggressive on closing the borders) and a hard patch to till for a Democrat.

Eitan briefs Gabe on existing and potential financial supporters, their profile, and how to stimulate an investment in the campaign. Less than 30 days to the elections, Vasquez has out-fundraised Herrell by c 2:1, which is promising, but certainly no assurance of victory. 

Oslo Connection

Me and my new homey

I join Sonnet and Madeleine for the last two nights of their 11 day visit to Norway which criss-crosses the fjords, mountains and country,  

While sitting in the sunshine drinking coffee outside our Oslo hotel I spot Erling Haaland who is in town for the Norway v Austria Eurocup qualifier the day before where Haaland hits the winning goal in the 80th minute on Norway's 2-1 victory. Given Haaland is a world top-3 active player alongside Messi and MBappe, he was generous with his attention while informing he felt poorly for Eitan's love of Manchester United (Haarland plays for Manchester City).

The Final Journey

Below, the route I took from England to France. Across the top, from Dover to the separation zone, the tide was gentle and I was on a true course to Calais. A hard Southeast tide, on the second half of the swim, carried the Viking Princess II past Cap Gris Nez and added maybe file miles to the 22 mile crossing.

Channel Blog

Dear all

I am slowly posting the Channel notes, all 43 of them, into one place on my blog.  And here it is.

Have a mighty summer.

Jeff

 

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.

A Final Thanks 42

Thank you, everyone, for your love and support on the Channel "project."

I have felt your presence during morning practices (which seemed like Midnight in January), the Croatia camp (87km in one week), cold water preparation in the SF Bay (down to 10C) and the Thames (to 5C, with a wetsuit) which has powered me through the hardest days (six hour swim ! 5:45 wake up !) and the best days (six hour swim ! 5:45 wake up !).

Your emails, texts and wishes will be on my mind this Sunday.

Ready, Set, Go 41

As it stands now, I will swim the English Channel on Sunday, July 28, early morning UK with the exact start-time TBD. I will update as the swim gets closer.

Soon to meet Goliath.

From Berkeley 40

I am still on the Berkeley High leader board with records for the 500 yard and 200 yard freestyle set in 1985.  There have been a few close misses over the years and I am cheering for the times to come down.

BHS swim coach Michael, a Berkeley High graduate around my time, keeps me up to date on the men's program while childhood friend Amanda (my year, '85) does the same for the BHS women as head coach of water polo and, until recently, swim teams.

The work, the swimmers and swim-teams and friends, the communities and the coaches and the race times jumble together.  What is clear : it is the journey where the adventure lays rest. 

Photo from a 'yellow jackets' swim meet earlier this year in Berkeley.

'Tis The Season 39

Below, senior year.  The flat-top from local barber Tony who got rich from customer stock tips and retired at 50.

I was going to shave it all for the Northcoast Championships only the finals were the same day as Senior Prom and my girlfriend Malaika was having none of that.  Going into Northcoast I was seeded first in the 500 yard and 200 yard freestyle and came in 4th and 6th, respectively.

Well, and here we go, the English Channel season is open with water temperatures at 16C (60.8F).  A few awesome swimmers from the Croatia camp have now made it across and also reaching Calais this week is Berkeley High senior Maya Merhige who finished in 11 hours and 39 minutes (no pressure here) making her one of the youngest swimmers to complete the Triple Crown of open water swimming, which includes the Channel, the 20-mile Catalina Channel and the 28.5 miles "20 Bridges" around Manhattan.  Maya has one hell of a college essay.

The Coaches 38

I am indebted to my coaches Tim and Nils at Red Top Swim for focusing my imagination on the English Channel and convincing me that I can do it.  Both have swum the Channel and Red Top has successfully taken c 200 swimmers from Dover to Calais.  In short, good hands.

I do not train with the club given the Red Top pool is located on other side of London yet I feel Tim and Nils' influence on most things I do in the pool.  Specifically, beyond the coaching, they have devised a distance program, including the Croatia camp, and held me accountable; secured the VP2; provided a hydration and nutrition schedule for the crossing and carbo-loading beforehand; and offered encouragement throughout.

Nils, at the bottom of the photo, will be on the boat and is intense. I fear that he is going to make me do 100 push-ups once I reach Calais.

Spider Man 37

I wore the yellow cap and embedded goggles to age-group and early HS meets concerned that my 'compi' goggles (no longer made) would fill with water from the block-dive.  I was aware it was intimidating to the others swimmers.

The picture appeared in b&w in the 1983 Berkeley HS year-book with the singular caption "spider man" and the original photograph lost forever until I visited the newly rebuilt, and modern, Berkeley High School pool several years ago when, there it was, taped to a metal cabinet in the coach's office.

For the Channel crossing to be valid, the English Channel Association dictates a latex cap, pair of goggles and a swim suit not falling below the groyne.  Animal fat smeared on the body is optional - some use it, I won't.  There will be an official ECA observer on the Viking Princess II to ensure the regulations are met.

The Pied Piper 36

Simon, pictured below in the River Thames, I call the 'Pied Piper' as he has 'led', for 20-years, a group of 30 masters who gather weekly to swim in an open bend of the river west of the Teddington Lock so non-tidal. 

The group is seasonally agnostic and happy to toil in the pitch dark pre-dawn wintertime, wearing luminescent lights, when the water temperature can drop to below 5C. Wet suits are optional.  The comaradarie is obvious from the complaining.

I join Simon and maybe one or two others to head further up the river and back, sometimes as far as five miles.

A comment on water quality : UK rivers struggle from under-investment in infrastructure and lack of care for >20 years.  Thames Water faces bankruptcy and will likely be nationalised again soon.  Yet, on the up, there are 24/7 monitoring sites for all UK rivers and available apps show most days are clean and green-lit for swimmers (in short: don't river swim after a storm). 

A better sign of the river's health : we are joined by a friendly seal checking us out two weeks ago.

Simon is the founder of Outdoor Swimmer magazine, at your local news rack anywhere.

On Distance 35

I was (am) a distance swimmer for the simple reason that I was less good at the shorter lengths and other strokes.  My freestyle technique, a two-beat crossover, was not pretty and, further, I was a small kid, 5'8", 98 pounds, until Switzerland when I grew three inches in one year.

To compensate for the lack of, well, everything necessary to be fast, I worked and worked and worked.  School mornings were two pool hours before class, by myself or with Katie, thanks to Berkeley coach Bill G. who made special workouts for the two of us from age 11, and afternoons with the team.  I added weights, chords and stretching to the routine, showing up to workouts early and finishing late.  By 9th grade I snuck into the Cal Memorial football stadium to run bleachers (80 rows) before practice and to this day the hardest and most painful thing I have ever done to myself. 

There was zero distraction and little teenager angst given the family and community around me.  Today I train with a similar group of committed diehards who are often chasing personal objectives beyond PBs or winning.

From today I start tapering, reducing from 37km last week to 20km this week and 10km the next.

Photo from 8th grade:

The Berkoff Blastoff 34

An athlete changing a sport is a rare thing while there are many swimmers/ races that have reset the high-bar - to name only a few, Mary T Meagher's 200m butterfly WR in 1981 took 20 years to break; Mark Spitz and Michael Phelps of course.  Tracy Caulkins was the greatest multiple-stroke competitor of a generation and the marvellous Katie Ledecky still reigns supreme in the distance events.

But here I focus on Dave Berkoff, Harvard '89 (my graduation year and friends with sister Katie, also on the Harvard swim team). Physically unremarkable at 5'10" and 155lbs, his revolutionary backstroke start and turn dove underwater for 35-40m in a 50m pool using a wavelike dolphin kick and streamlined locked arms.  It was a novel thing and, Berkoff realised, faster than surface swimming.  

Using this technique Dave won NCAAs, US nationals and four Olympic medals and set backstroke WRs across his career.  Berkoff's races elicited loud uninterrupted cheers until he popped up to take a breath and stroke or two before the wall then back underwater. 

Today most every elite swimmer has strong "underwaters" regardless of the stroke.  Fittingly, Dave's daughter Katherine qualified for the Paris Olympics in the 100m backstroke.

Photo of Dave Berkoff from the collection of Carl-Johansson/ Olympedia (1987)

The Great Vladimir Salnikov 33

Soviet distance swimmer Vladimir Salnikov was the first person to swim the 1500m under 15 minutes which he did at the 1980 Moscow Olympics with a time of 15:58.27.  It was then the equivalent of the mythical four-minute mile or today's two-hour marathon.

I had the below poster of Salnikov pinned to the wall of my bedroom next to back-stroker John Nabor and Cheryl Tiegs.  According to Swimming World magazine, Salnikov trained like blood and nails which, in an era of more-distance-is-better, was something I could relate to.

Salnikov dominated the late '70s/ early '80s winning every race he swam (400, 800 and 1500m) accepting once against Californian Jeff Kostoff in 1981 in the USA-USSR "friendship" dual meet. During this time Salnikov bettered 12 world records yet never received broad recognition due to the US boycott of the 1980 Moscow Olympics and the Soviet Union staying away from LA in '84.

Today the 1500m world record is held by China's Sun Yang in 14:31.02 (highly likely doped) while there are six 16 year-olds who have gone under 15 minutes with Turkey's Kuzey Tuncelli finishing the distance in 14:41.90 at the Euro Junior Nationals last week Thursday (July 4).

My best 1500m time was 16:35 at 16 swum in Switzerland.

Vladimir Salnikov under 15 minutes, first time, July 22, 1980.

L'Equipe Suisse 1984 (32)

My junior year of HS (1983-84) was spent in Geneva training with Geneve Natation 1985.  To do so, following manoeuvres by the Berkeley Barracudas, my parents and the Swiss national swimming coach (Tony Ulrich), I found myself living with a Swiss family (strictly French speaking) on rue de l'ecole de medecine while Claude, on the counter-exchange, stayed with my family (which btw did not work out as Claude expected Baywatch and got Northern California).

During this time I attended College de Candolle with all my coursework in French, a language that became helpful later in my professional life at Astorg, a French investment firm in the Paris 8e.

The real motivation for the year was, of course, the swimming where I trained with Dano Hallsal who set a world record in the 50m freestyle in 1985; Etienne Dagon who won Switzerland's first Olympics swimming medal, a bronze in the 200m breaststroke; and Theophile and Francois David and Thierry Jacot who competed in the 1984 and 1988 Olympics.

From the right, Theo, Dano and Etienne (I do not know the fourth) at the 1983 Euro Championships.

Water Logged 31

 My training so far (NB I committed to the Channel on December 31, 2023) :

For comparison, as a kid thru college, I spent four hours a day in the pool typically hitting 14,000 daily yards across double workouts equalling, roughly, 360km (225 miles) a month (assuming Sundays off).

The below photo, maybe 1981, is pretty much how the weekends went - my Dad, in the blue hat, examining a time-sheet or doing some legal work.  Kirk, the barracudas' coach, passing the day between events.

Katie 30

Ours was a swimming family which meant up well before dawn and training in well-lit pools after dark, rain or shine.  

My dad enjoyed the morning company since he was on his way to work anyway.  Katie, on the other hand, a night owl to this day who persevered on limited sleep through high school and four-years swimming at Harvard (I swam two seasons for Brown).  On the car ride to morning practice we counted every stop-light preying for red.

Surprisingly I do not have many age-group photos from the pool or at swimming meets, where we spent most of our weekends, commuting with other swimmers, Moe volunteering as a timer.

Here is Katie, my support team in most things.

The Summer of '86 (29)

The summer following college freshman year I swam with the local club, Little Rhody (eg Rhode Island) at the Brown Aquatics Center, a 50m by 25yd pool too shallow at the competition-end with an odd timber-roof that one could climb on to when one was drunk.  Not that one would do so.

Sidebar: unsurprisingly the roof became structurally unsound and torn down in 2010 to make way for one of the best pools I know - the Katherine Moran Coleman Aquatics Center, which opened at Brown in 2012 and is big, deep and fast (racers feel it).

So the summer of 1986 I trained from 6-8am then painted houses until dusk then washed dishes at the upscale restaurant Cafe At Brooks (in the dicey Providence neighbourhood of Fox Point) which was fun since the head chef, Joe, was a RISD graduate with no culinary training.  He would look at me and say, straight faced, "this one is coming back."

The waitresses were pretty and we were allowed an after-shift drink at the long brass bar after closing hours.  Sometimes Providence mayor Buddy Cianci would drop by to tell stories about Federal Hill or the mob.

For some reason known only to a 19 year old I wanted bleached hair so, after morning practice, I added a lemon juice and salt mixture to my scalp. Below.

Here I am at summer's end painting the stairs of my parent's Berkeley house (Moe informed that my fees to be offset by the rent, a never ending joke between us (of course I paid no rent).

Cor Tenebrarum 28

Everyone, or at least most, has their moment of doubt and I feel nothing less for the Channel. 14 hours is a lot of time to spend in a physical activity dreaming whatever comes to mind and struggling undoubtedly with fatigue and doubt.  Once I start, there is no turning back accepting for the tides or hypothermia.  The rest is mental.

A fair question, then, is why ? A considered answer, why not ? The English Channel is outside my comfort zone at a time (age 57) when the stuff that worries me most is mostly under my control or, at least, I have experienced it before.  We will all be 73 one day or already, Ottis Thaning's age when he set the mark for oldest crosser.  My body is not the limiting factor (says he). 

I have made new friends whose similar journey is inspiring.  The goal itself has given meaning beyond the Channel itself.

But, but, but the Channel - I fear the wide-open space and not seeing the shoreline. The fading-out of sea-light to black beneath my gaze.  My imagination.  Starting in darkness.  The true time of a day.