Ned Denison, June 16, 2007 Nearly three years ago I signed up to swim the English Channel. Failing on my first attempt in 2005, I went back two months later and battled across. 2006 saw me swim the Santa Barbara Channel and for 2007, well I do like a goal each year.
As a student in New York City (1978-81) I remember hearing of the swimming exploits of Diana Nyad – but never imaged following her in the seriously polluted waters around Manhattan.
The Application:
Many people told me that getting accepted into the Manhattan Island Marathon Swim is much harder than swimming the English Channel! I never questioned them as every year we turn people away for the big Lee and Sandycove swims in Cork. My plan became: show early interest, get the application in as soon as possible, have an angle and compile a compelling “history.”
As a first step I found the website (www.nycswim.org) and completed a profile which signed me up for the regular email newsletter. The profile engine automatically hunted down my previous Alcatraz and Santa Cruz swims and added these to my swimming resume – cool technology! I steadily added to the profile with witness statements for my 16 mile Cobh Island, English and Santa Barbara Channel 20 mile swims.
Entries opened 1 November so I worked on my essay. That’s right, my essay: “Why do you want to swim around Manhattan Island?” All part of the application process. My first essay in thirty plus years: the University application. On the bright side it saved me from a couple of long pool training sessions as I polished up 500 and 1,500 word versions.
I also needed a crew and my wife (previously crewed on both channel swims) volunteered quickly and we planned to bring our three teenagers for their first New York visit! For the second member I called my old water polo coach – a New York native. Dr. Sheldon Rothman knew everyone in Aquatics in the area and would probably have some serious pull to help me get accepted. His team once took 3rd in the USA college championships in Water Polo as well as being named the swimming coach of the year in the NY area a few years back As it turned out Shelly didn’t know anyone who could help but he did offer that one of his best players (Richard Wilde) unsuccessfully applied to swim 9 years in a row. Shelly quickly volunteered to complete the crew.
As the date neared I frequently visited the web site and agonized as the entry date delayed and delayed. Eventually on 1 December entries opened and within 30 minutes I uploaded my 1,500 word essay and my VISA details/approval for the $1,295 fee. I chose the angle “I want to complete the triple crown of marathon swimming (English, Santa Barbara and Manhattan) before I am 50 later this year”. “Acknowledgement” of my entry came by email which noted that I would hear back before mid February. Uncertainty, waiting and patience thankfully lasted only two days before my acceptance arrived. Richard informed Shelly: 10th time lucky and suddenly coach took top honours with two of the twenty-five solo swimmers!
The training:
Training progressed perfectly until my acceptance and bang the left elbow went after a tough swim session. For the third winter in a row a shoulder or elbow caused serious physical pain and I started to doubt my ability to make the big swim in June. I reduced my training plan and kept swimming (averaging a mile a day) – much of it in the sea at 8C (46F) and 9C – without a wetsuit. This left plenty of time to visualize the swim – lots of landmarks/bridges and my first big swim with the current expected to help me at the very end.
Just about one hundred days of elbow pain brought me up the Limerick long course masters event. I swam all the freestyle events on the Saturday: 50, 100, 200, 400 and 800 metres and returned home exhausted. On Monday I awoke pain free. It made no sense to me – but I accepted this readily. The next day I doubled my average daily training to two miles. Ideally I would swim 5 miles six days a week (double again what I planned to do) to prepare for Manhattan – but better healthy than hurt in June.
April in Cork gave us the warmest sea temperatures (14C) in a very long time and the entire open sea training group went mad! At the end of the month I did a gig as an assistant guide with SwimTrek on a long distance training week in Gozo (island north of Malta) in 16C water. Twelve eager swimmers – 6 going for the English Channel this year. I swam morning and night and got in an easy two hour sea swim – my longest of the year.
The Gods then decided to play games and the sea temperature in Cork plunged back down to 10C (50F). I moved to the local rivers and lakes to get in some fresh water training. Manhattan would present a mix of water buoyancies so I needed to tune my swimming styles a tiny bit and mostly strengthen my back for the slightly different stress I would experience.
Eilis coached me through a couple of 5 mile pool sessions and paced me one day on a 3rd mile in uninviting cold seas to push my fitness a bit higher. Anne developed a scheduling conflict (youngest daughter Anna’s important school test) so Emilio Casanueva, the founder of the Santa Barbara Channel Swimming Association, volunteered to join the safety boat crew.
Into the last weeks I started to assemble my checklist, worked on the crew instructions and studied previous reports of the swim. I stayed healthy and kept up the 2 mile/day training regime. I hoped it would give me enough of a physical base to get three quarters of the way though the swim (into the Hudson) where I hope my “big swim memory” would get me home!
Swimmers on your mark:
I found lots of time to think about the swim with a 5 hour flight delay in Shannon and eventually made it to Mike’s (University friend) place north of Manhattan.
Woke up in the morning with the first pain in my neck and left shoulder in more than a year and curse the knapsack and the plane delay. Every fear possible surfaced in my head as the pain came and went all day.
We met up with Steve (University roommate), his wife Becky and Krista (Mike’s girlfriend) for dinner that night and back to Krista’s place for the evening. She lives right on the New Jersey side of the Hudson, maybe two miles up from the start, so I experienced it first hand from the small ferry.
My neck and shoulder still hurt as I dragged my gear into my hotel room near the start in Wall Street. Then I attended the swimmer’s briefing – the first of several great social events. My confidence soared when Emilio and I greeted with hug and I met eight swimmers who I previously only knew via email. Three of these: Rendy, Penny and Chris also planned to swim the Santa Barbara Channel. All 25 solos swimmers (two older than me – happy days!) and 15 relay teams introduced themselves and heard a well prepared safety briefing. Two surprises: a firm order to hug the Manhattan side (in previous years expert kayakers took their swimmers to mid river to catch the fastest flow) and the possibility of cigarette boats (the big ones from Miami Vice) racing on the New Jersey side of the Hudson – well away from the swimmers. Terry from Cork paid a visit to drop off some special sunscreen and I joined Emilio and Margarita (his girlfriend also on my Santa Barbara safety boat) later for a drink. Emilio inventoried and repacked my special bag for the boat and I gave him the final crew instructions and my swim plan:
Start out fast to get thru the incoming time for the first mile or so – and to catch the benefit early of the tide going up the East River
Revert to cruise speed
Pick up the pace to get through the expected rough water and conflicting tides at Hell Gate – where the East and Harlem Rivers meet and the unlucky get swept towards Long Island Sound (and out of the race!)
Revert to cruise speed
Pick up the pace to get through the expected rough water at Spuyten Duyvil – where the narrow Harlem River meets the mile wide Hudson River. The translation from Dutch is Devil’s Spout but I called it the Spitting Devil. None of the descriptive phrases sounded very friendly!
Revert to cruise speed and if needed simply lie on my back and float to the finish!
Set:
Back in the hotel I continued to hydrate – drinking probably 6 litres of water before bed time and making several toilet visits in the early hours. I felt relaxed except for the occasional pain in my neck and left shoulder. With the early start I knew that I wouldn’t find a bowl of porridge so I wolfed down 2 bagels and 5 bananas on the way to the start. The safety boats started ahead in the East River, the kayakers behind in North Cove and the swimmers in South Cove (in the Hudson a mile of so from the southern tip of Manhattan).
The swimmers helped each other apply sun cream on backs and we applied different combinations of Vaseline, lanolin, rash guard lotions in different quantities to different places. The relayers went light and the soloers went heavy. I covered my arm pits, swim suit edges, shoulder tops, neck and jaw line. Others went for the full body – bar around their eyes and I suspect the bottom of their feet!
A delayed start and I tried to get in the zone. I kept moving my neck and shoulders to stay loose and work that pain out. I did manage to identify my kayaker at a distance – so another uncertainty removed.
Go:
Finally the go ahead to enter the water – the 19C (66F) temperature and taste far exceeded my wildest hopes. I said hello to Ted (kayaker), a first timer and explained the swim plan.
GO!
Through the gift of craftiness honed over the years I came out of the Cove in the first three before a few started to pass me. We swam into a flood tide for the first mile. The water felt warm and my body felt no pain – happy days!!!!
I ignored the mass of confused kayakers and focused on getting a rhythm, easing thru the previous neck/shoulder pain (which never made an appearance during the swim), keeping a fast pace, not going too fast and staying close to the wall to lessen the effects of the current. All systems go! A great view of the Statue of Liberty for the better part of two minutes and I didn’t notice the tide trying to push me backwards. Later I learned that two of the swimmers didn’t beat the on-rushing tide. So, the first part of my plan worked – out fast to beat the tide and catch the tide up the East River. I relaxed a bit and went into a cruise speed (about 3,700 metres/hour in still water) which probably doubled with the rising tide.
In less than an hour I swam under the famous Brooklyn then Manhattan then Williamsburg Bridges. I enjoyed swimming under the Liffey and Lee River Bridges in Ireland and especially under the Belvelley Bridge during my Cobh swim – but these three in NY monsters soar fifty times higher!
I breathe to the right so missed all of the downtown Manhattan scenery. Later I heard that some of my fellow swimmers took in the view and waived to spectators. Good for them, I concentrated on the swim and enjoyed the fast tide helping to push me. It drove us all up the East River and I wanted to get as much advantage before it ran out or worse – turned.
Well past the hour and no safety boat in sight. While missing Shelly (and naturally Emilio) I needed the carbohydrate powder mixed with water (fuel). My body expected fuel 45 minutes earlier on the every half hour plan. I completed the three hours to Inisbofin and four hours across Lake Champlain in 2006 without a “feed”. My first English Channel attempt took eight hours on one litre of fluid so I started to convince myself that I could do the whole swim without a feed if necessary. My kayaker Ted in perfect position to my right and I could see him on every stroke which helped my confidence.
Then the water temperature dropped and my confidence vanished instantly. My thoughts went first to my hospital stay with hypothermia after the Santa Barbara swim and then to my cousin Doug who recently died of hypothermia in a boating accident in Maine. I remember fun times with him and wondered how his young family would manage. The water turned choppy and I approached a major panic when safety boat number 6 pulled alongside with Shelly giving me the thumbs up and Emilio holding my bottle on a rope. That litre went down quickly and ranked as one of the better tastes experienced in a long swim!
A few more swimmers passed at this point but for the most part I swam in my own little world with the water, kayaker and safety boat crew. At the next feed stop I could see and hear Mike and the gang cheering me on from their black and white boat. A constant source of encouragement from seeing and hearing them for the entire day.
Back to the warm water temperature but up the East River I hit several more cold patches which seemed to last less than 10 seconds each. I flew under the 59th Street powered along with the rising tide, feeling great and waiting for the first signs of Hell Gate. Hell Gate’s reputation justified the name. I saw the video and read the reports. Too far the right and swept out to Long Island Sound – the end your swim. Ride the fast tide in the middle and, on a good day you would fly – on a bad day you went backwards. Try to hug the wall to the right with the least tide and you risked running into floating telephone poles, wooden doors and my favourite: the bloated Giraffe which fell off a circus boat a few years back.
I visualized this stretch of water for months and now maintained the 63 strokes/minute cruising speed: focus, focus, focus, focus. Next I remember seeing the Triborough Bridge well behind me – I passed thought Hell Gate without a bother. I felt lucky – bless the tide predictors and race starters! I wondered if the swimmers behind me would share my luck as the tide must slow and soon turn.
Along the Bronx and I enjoyed the calm of the Harlem River. The Google maps showed a dirty brown colour so I prepared for the worst. Another potential problem avoided – water taste still excellent – better than the sea and rivers back in Ireland. My feeds came every half hour and Emilio, Shelly, observer and safety boat captain enjoyed clear skies and hot sun. Tim (observer) and Shelly in particular seemed far too relaxed so at the next feed stop I finished off the bottle from Emilio and held up my arm and asked Shelly for the special stuff. He looked confused so I then asked for the pint of Floyd Landis blood (the disqualified Tour de France cyclist). Tim snapped to full attention until Shelly started to laugh. Off again with a smile on my face. Tim missed witnessing a blood doping violation in the Manhattan swim – he could tell the story for a few years! Ted steadied my swim: calm, confident, using some peddle gizmo instead of paddles and he seemed to have an unlimited assortment of cameras, blackberries, GPS stuff to play with. Then a second kayaker joined us – clearly his swimmer pulled out and Ted took a break. I thought it would prove a challenge to find a toilet on the Bronx shore! My guide went from calm Ted to a directive Craig. He directed me to change directions and steered me away from some floating wood.
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
Enjoy:
The finishing area full of well wishers and swimmers – some looking fresh and some wrapped up getting medical attention. For a change after a long swim I felt fresh. Shelly and Emilio arrived for an emotional finish to the adventure. Shelly also celebrated the finish of Richard (well ahead of me).
A quick stop at the hotel for a shower and off to the celebration dinner. Each finisher awarded and all praised and thanked the organizers, kayakers, crews, observers, boaters and other volunteers. I slept very well and spent time Sunday with the other English Channel swimmers then Mike, Krista, Steve and Becky before boarding the plane home.
Original article posted on : https://www.santabarbarachannelswim.org/ned-mims.html
As a student in New York City (1978-81) I remember hearing of the swimming exploits of Diana Nyad – but never imaged following her in the seriously polluted waters around Manhattan.
The Application:
Many people told me that getting accepted into the Manhattan Island Marathon Swim is much harder than swimming the English Channel! I never questioned them as every year we turn people away for the big Lee and Sandycove swims in Cork. My plan became: show early interest, get the application in as soon as possible, have an angle and compile a compelling “history.”
As a first step I found the website (www.nycswim.org) and completed a profile which signed me up for the regular email newsletter. The profile engine automatically hunted down my previous Alcatraz and Santa Cruz swims and added these to my swimming resume – cool technology! I steadily added to the profile with witness statements for my 16 mile Cobh Island, English and Santa Barbara Channel 20 mile swims.
Entries opened 1 November so I worked on my essay. That’s right, my essay: “Why do you want to swim around Manhattan Island?” All part of the application process. My first essay in thirty plus years: the University application. On the bright side it saved me from a couple of long pool training sessions as I polished up 500 and 1,500 word versions.
I also needed a crew and my wife (previously crewed on both channel swims) volunteered quickly and we planned to bring our three teenagers for their first New York visit! For the second member I called my old water polo coach – a New York native. Dr. Sheldon Rothman knew everyone in Aquatics in the area and would probably have some serious pull to help me get accepted. His team once took 3rd in the USA college championships in Water Polo as well as being named the swimming coach of the year in the NY area a few years back As it turned out Shelly didn’t know anyone who could help but he did offer that one of his best players (Richard Wilde) unsuccessfully applied to swim 9 years in a row. Shelly quickly volunteered to complete the crew.
As the date neared I frequently visited the web site and agonized as the entry date delayed and delayed. Eventually on 1 December entries opened and within 30 minutes I uploaded my 1,500 word essay and my VISA details/approval for the $1,295 fee. I chose the angle “I want to complete the triple crown of marathon swimming (English, Santa Barbara and Manhattan) before I am 50 later this year”. “Acknowledgement” of my entry came by email which noted that I would hear back before mid February. Uncertainty, waiting and patience thankfully lasted only two days before my acceptance arrived. Richard informed Shelly: 10th time lucky and suddenly coach took top honours with two of the twenty-five solo swimmers!
The training:
Training progressed perfectly until my acceptance and bang the left elbow went after a tough swim session. For the third winter in a row a shoulder or elbow caused serious physical pain and I started to doubt my ability to make the big swim in June. I reduced my training plan and kept swimming (averaging a mile a day) – much of it in the sea at 8C (46F) and 9C – without a wetsuit. This left plenty of time to visualize the swim – lots of landmarks/bridges and my first big swim with the current expected to help me at the very end.
Just about one hundred days of elbow pain brought me up the Limerick long course masters event. I swam all the freestyle events on the Saturday: 50, 100, 200, 400 and 800 metres and returned home exhausted. On Monday I awoke pain free. It made no sense to me – but I accepted this readily. The next day I doubled my average daily training to two miles. Ideally I would swim 5 miles six days a week (double again what I planned to do) to prepare for Manhattan – but better healthy than hurt in June.
April in Cork gave us the warmest sea temperatures (14C) in a very long time and the entire open sea training group went mad! At the end of the month I did a gig as an assistant guide with SwimTrek on a long distance training week in Gozo (island north of Malta) in 16C water. Twelve eager swimmers – 6 going for the English Channel this year. I swam morning and night and got in an easy two hour sea swim – my longest of the year.
The Gods then decided to play games and the sea temperature in Cork plunged back down to 10C (50F). I moved to the local rivers and lakes to get in some fresh water training. Manhattan would present a mix of water buoyancies so I needed to tune my swimming styles a tiny bit and mostly strengthen my back for the slightly different stress I would experience.
Eilis coached me through a couple of 5 mile pool sessions and paced me one day on a 3rd mile in uninviting cold seas to push my fitness a bit higher. Anne developed a scheduling conflict (youngest daughter Anna’s important school test) so Emilio Casanueva, the founder of the Santa Barbara Channel Swimming Association, volunteered to join the safety boat crew.
Into the last weeks I started to assemble my checklist, worked on the crew instructions and studied previous reports of the swim. I stayed healthy and kept up the 2 mile/day training regime. I hoped it would give me enough of a physical base to get three quarters of the way though the swim (into the Hudson) where I hope my “big swim memory” would get me home!
Swimmers on your mark:
I found lots of time to think about the swim with a 5 hour flight delay in Shannon and eventually made it to Mike’s (University friend) place north of Manhattan.
Woke up in the morning with the first pain in my neck and left shoulder in more than a year and curse the knapsack and the plane delay. Every fear possible surfaced in my head as the pain came and went all day.
We met up with Steve (University roommate), his wife Becky and Krista (Mike’s girlfriend) for dinner that night and back to Krista’s place for the evening. She lives right on the New Jersey side of the Hudson, maybe two miles up from the start, so I experienced it first hand from the small ferry.
My neck and shoulder still hurt as I dragged my gear into my hotel room near the start in Wall Street. Then I attended the swimmer’s briefing – the first of several great social events. My confidence soared when Emilio and I greeted with hug and I met eight swimmers who I previously only knew via email. Three of these: Rendy, Penny and Chris also planned to swim the Santa Barbara Channel. All 25 solos swimmers (two older than me – happy days!) and 15 relay teams introduced themselves and heard a well prepared safety briefing. Two surprises: a firm order to hug the Manhattan side (in previous years expert kayakers took their swimmers to mid river to catch the fastest flow) and the possibility of cigarette boats (the big ones from Miami Vice) racing on the New Jersey side of the Hudson – well away from the swimmers. Terry from Cork paid a visit to drop off some special sunscreen and I joined Emilio and Margarita (his girlfriend also on my Santa Barbara safety boat) later for a drink. Emilio inventoried and repacked my special bag for the boat and I gave him the final crew instructions and my swim plan:
Start out fast to get thru the incoming time for the first mile or so – and to catch the benefit early of the tide going up the East River
Revert to cruise speed
Pick up the pace to get through the expected rough water and conflicting tides at Hell Gate – where the East and Harlem Rivers meet and the unlucky get swept towards Long Island Sound (and out of the race!)
Revert to cruise speed
Pick up the pace to get through the expected rough water at Spuyten Duyvil – where the narrow Harlem River meets the mile wide Hudson River. The translation from Dutch is Devil’s Spout but I called it the Spitting Devil. None of the descriptive phrases sounded very friendly!
Revert to cruise speed and if needed simply lie on my back and float to the finish!
Set:
Back in the hotel I continued to hydrate – drinking probably 6 litres of water before bed time and making several toilet visits in the early hours. I felt relaxed except for the occasional pain in my neck and left shoulder. With the early start I knew that I wouldn’t find a bowl of porridge so I wolfed down 2 bagels and 5 bananas on the way to the start. The safety boats started ahead in the East River, the kayakers behind in North Cove and the swimmers in South Cove (in the Hudson a mile of so from the southern tip of Manhattan).
The swimmers helped each other apply sun cream on backs and we applied different combinations of Vaseline, lanolin, rash guard lotions in different quantities to different places. The relayers went light and the soloers went heavy. I covered my arm pits, swim suit edges, shoulder tops, neck and jaw line. Others went for the full body – bar around their eyes and I suspect the bottom of their feet!
A delayed start and I tried to get in the zone. I kept moving my neck and shoulders to stay loose and work that pain out. I did manage to identify my kayaker at a distance – so another uncertainty removed.
Go:
Finally the go ahead to enter the water – the 19C (66F) temperature and taste far exceeded my wildest hopes. I said hello to Ted (kayaker), a first timer and explained the swim plan.
GO!
Through the gift of craftiness honed over the years I came out of the Cove in the first three before a few started to pass me. We swam into a flood tide for the first mile. The water felt warm and my body felt no pain – happy days!!!!
I ignored the mass of confused kayakers and focused on getting a rhythm, easing thru the previous neck/shoulder pain (which never made an appearance during the swim), keeping a fast pace, not going too fast and staying close to the wall to lessen the effects of the current. All systems go! A great view of the Statue of Liberty for the better part of two minutes and I didn’t notice the tide trying to push me backwards. Later I learned that two of the swimmers didn’t beat the on-rushing tide. So, the first part of my plan worked – out fast to beat the tide and catch the tide up the East River. I relaxed a bit and went into a cruise speed (about 3,700 metres/hour in still water) which probably doubled with the rising tide.
In less than an hour I swam under the famous Brooklyn then Manhattan then Williamsburg Bridges. I enjoyed swimming under the Liffey and Lee River Bridges in Ireland and especially under the Belvelley Bridge during my Cobh swim – but these three in NY monsters soar fifty times higher!
I breathe to the right so missed all of the downtown Manhattan scenery. Later I heard that some of my fellow swimmers took in the view and waived to spectators. Good for them, I concentrated on the swim and enjoyed the fast tide helping to push me. It drove us all up the East River and I wanted to get as much advantage before it ran out or worse – turned.
Well past the hour and no safety boat in sight. While missing Shelly (and naturally Emilio) I needed the carbohydrate powder mixed with water (fuel). My body expected fuel 45 minutes earlier on the every half hour plan. I completed the three hours to Inisbofin and four hours across Lake Champlain in 2006 without a “feed”. My first English Channel attempt took eight hours on one litre of fluid so I started to convince myself that I could do the whole swim without a feed if necessary. My kayaker Ted in perfect position to my right and I could see him on every stroke which helped my confidence.
Then the water temperature dropped and my confidence vanished instantly. My thoughts went first to my hospital stay with hypothermia after the Santa Barbara swim and then to my cousin Doug who recently died of hypothermia in a boating accident in Maine. I remember fun times with him and wondered how his young family would manage. The water turned choppy and I approached a major panic when safety boat number 6 pulled alongside with Shelly giving me the thumbs up and Emilio holding my bottle on a rope. That litre went down quickly and ranked as one of the better tastes experienced in a long swim!
A few more swimmers passed at this point but for the most part I swam in my own little world with the water, kayaker and safety boat crew. At the next feed stop I could see and hear Mike and the gang cheering me on from their black and white boat. A constant source of encouragement from seeing and hearing them for the entire day.
Back to the warm water temperature but up the East River I hit several more cold patches which seemed to last less than 10 seconds each. I flew under the 59th Street powered along with the rising tide, feeling great and waiting for the first signs of Hell Gate. Hell Gate’s reputation justified the name. I saw the video and read the reports. Too far the right and swept out to Long Island Sound – the end your swim. Ride the fast tide in the middle and, on a good day you would fly – on a bad day you went backwards. Try to hug the wall to the right with the least tide and you risked running into floating telephone poles, wooden doors and my favourite: the bloated Giraffe which fell off a circus boat a few years back.
I visualized this stretch of water for months and now maintained the 63 strokes/minute cruising speed: focus, focus, focus, focus. Next I remember seeing the Triborough Bridge well behind me – I passed thought Hell Gate without a bother. I felt lucky – bless the tide predictors and race starters! I wondered if the swimmers behind me would share my luck as the tide must slow and soon turn.
Along the Bronx and I enjoyed the calm of the Harlem River. The Google maps showed a dirty brown colour so I prepared for the worst. Another potential problem avoided – water taste still excellent – better than the sea and rivers back in Ireland. My feeds came every half hour and Emilio, Shelly, observer and safety boat captain enjoyed clear skies and hot sun. Tim (observer) and Shelly in particular seemed far too relaxed so at the next feed stop I finished off the bottle from Emilio and held up my arm and asked Shelly for the special stuff. He looked confused so I then asked for the pint of Floyd Landis blood (the disqualified Tour de France cyclist). Tim snapped to full attention until Shelly started to laugh. Off again with a smile on my face. Tim missed witnessing a blood doping violation in the Manhattan swim – he could tell the story for a few years! Ted steadied my swim: calm, confident, using some peddle gizmo instead of paddles and he seemed to have an unlimited assortment of cameras, blackberries, GPS stuff to play with. Then a second kayaker joined us – clearly his swimmer pulled out and Ted took a break. I thought it would prove a challenge to find a toilet on the Bronx shore! My guide went from calm Ted to a directive Craig. He directed me to change directions and steered me away from some floating wood.
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
Enjoy:
The finishing area full of well wishers and swimmers – some looking fresh and some wrapped up getting medical attention. For a change after a long swim I felt fresh. Shelly and Emilio arrived for an emotional finish to the adventure. Shelly also celebrated the finish of Richard (well ahead of me).
A quick stop at the hotel for a shower and off to the celebration dinner. Each finisher awarded and all praised and thanked the organizers, kayakers, crews, observers, boaters and other volunteers. I slept very well and spent time Sunday with the other English Channel swimmers then Mike, Krista, Steve and Becky before boarding the plane home.
Original article posted on : https://www.santabarbarachannelswim.org/ned-mims.html
