Into the Water - St. Lucia Channel Swim Part III

The team gathered at Rodney Bay Marina at 3 a.m. to get supplies loaded onto “All In,” a beautiful 40-foot catamaran with a full kitchen, 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. Wes and Nathaniel had loaded the kayak the evening before, along with some ice and water. I had captain Martin, 2 crew members, Sue, Nathaniel, Wes, Lily, Thalia, Paul and 2 guys from Flow, a cellular phone company that were there to test their equipment. I felt kind of embarrassed to have such an entourage. I'm usually the one providing support for others. But it takes a good team to have a "solo" swim!

We left the marina about an hour later, heading for the start at Body Holiday beach, the northernmost accessible beach on the island. As we pulled away from the marina, I noticed the pretty lights of Rodney Bay against the dark hills of the island - then a horrible CRUNCH! We obviously hit something like a rock or coral. It sounded horrible, but Martin checked below deck and everything looked OK. He quickly took over from the crewhand who had been steering and backed the catamaran out of whatever we had run into and maneuvered us back on course for the beach.

As we motored toward the beach, I started getting prepped for the swim. I had applied SeaSafe sunscreen the evening before and again after I woke up. I doubt if a product can prevent jellyfish stings, but hey, I figured I’d give it a shot. Paul added a thick layer of zinc oxide cream, then a layer of Bag Balm mixed with lanolin to help prevent chaffing. I looked like a mime. Thalia called it my white wetsuit. 

I put in my earplugs, slid my gold swimcap over my head and then pulled my goggles on. Paul affixed the button lights – one on my goggles strap and one attached to the back of my suit. Lastly, I slipped on a sexy nose clip. Don’t know how anyone could resist my hotness. At least I thought that’s what Paul said. Maybe it was hot mess.

The boat cruised into Body Holiday beach cove.  In the dark and quiet of the night, it almost felt like we were sneaking in. Wes and Nathaniel slid the kayak into the water and Wes got situated in the kayak hull. I gave Paul a zinc-oxide stamped kiss and stepped off the back of the catamaran, swimming about 100 yards or so to the beach. I cleared the water and walked until I hit dry sand. I adjusted my goggles and cap and made sure the button lights were still on. I raised my arm to indicate I was ready.

And... I'm still holding my arm up. Hey, guys, over here! I’m ready to swim now! Finally, Martin blew the horn and I walked into the water. I was a little nervous, but more excited and confident than I had felt when I started my English Channel attempt. I was going to give it my all and feel proud of what I accomplished, regardless of the outcome.

I noticed the water light up every time my hand dove into the water. Phosphorescence is so cool! Below me, a million baby jellyfish (or something) were glowing like little blue stars. It was absolutely magical. The water felt great – not warm, but not cold – and very mild in the cove. I took my time and enjoyed the swim, noticing the stars above when I took a breath and the stars below when my head turned back into the water.

The kayak looked like a riverboat casino with lots of lights and reflective tape, making it easy to follow Wes and the support boat. It seemed to take a long time to get out of the cove, foreshadowing the day ahead.

The sun rose behind us, its light illuminating the clouds in beautiful shades of pink, orange and yellow. At the hour feed, I told Wes the swim was already worth everything we’d put into it. I was having a fantastic time and felt so lucky to be swimming in the deep blue Caribbean Sea. The channel swim I'd planned for so long was really happening!

The next hour, we turned north into the channel and conditions changed. The choppy waves grew from small moguls to small mountains and it was hard to get into a rhythm. But, the sun was coming up and I could clearly see the support boat and Paul in his bright safety yellow shirt, watching from the bow. Martin had said it would get a lot choppier as we rounded the north point, so I expected it.

The next few half hour feeds went well, Wes maneuvering over waves to toss me the bottle of carb drink, although it seemed like it took longer than 30 minutes between feeds. In practice swims at the pool, I usually get into a zone and am surprised when it’s time to feed. But, I was so focused on every stroke and every minute, the time passed more slowly.

After a couple of hours, Wes let me know he needed a break. I told him that was fine. I wasn’t concerned about feeding from the support boat and Paul is used to the feeding routine, so it was all good.

I noticed a marine police boat come up to the support catamaran. Sue had mentioned that they would stop by, but I’d forgotten that and wondered what they were doing. I hadn’t seen Sue since I started swimming and I thought maybe she’d gotten seasick and was going back on the police boat. I hoped that wasn’t the case. I was worried about her, but figured she would be OK and someone else would pick up the observing tasks.

Wes came back for more paddling shortly before the police boat left. He stuck with me for about an hour, but the waves and my pokey pace made it difficult for him to stay aligned with me and handle feeds as well, so he returned to the support boat.

I was pleased when I made it to the 4 hour feed, now well into the channel. I was feeling queasy, but otherwise fine and was intent on passing the time I’d spent in the English Channel. My shoulders felt good and the choppy waves had morphed into big swells. It was easier to time them so I’d get a good breath in as I was sliding up and then put my head back in the water as I was sliding down. The feeds from the catamaran were a bit troublesome. The line wasn’t quite long enough, so I had to get close to the boat to get the bottle and then it would get yanked from my hands as the boat rocked in the waves. I may have expressed a little constructive criticism about that situation. But, Paul took it in stride and worked with Wes to knot another rope to the feed line to make it long enough.