The Channel is 21 miles as the crow flies, but with tides and currents someone attempting to swim will more than likely end up swimming 25 miles. I started planning my channel swim back in October 2013, not fully realising what I was taking on. Over the next 2 years I started getting involved with long distance swimming events and started swimming with people training for the channel. I’ve met so many incredible people through this and all of them have that same mad sparkle in their eye.
In June 2014 I achieved my first 6 hour swim after competing in the BLDSA champion of champions event in Dover. And in August I got to get a taste of what it would be like on my solo when I joined up with a relay to team to swim across to France. Then in 2015 I completed a two-way Windermere 21 mile swim in 11 hours and 45 minutes. This meant I was ready and able to swim the distance.
September came around all too quickly and before I knew it was the day before my tide started and we were traveling down to Dover to stay at Varne Ridge to wait for the call to go. Sure enough that came at 7 o’clock that evening, ‘meet at 2 am Dover Marina ready for a 3 am start’. Unfortunately the wind speed was higher than predicted that night and my pilot cancelled the swim at 11 that evening. Much relief to two of my crew who were traveling down overnight, because it meant they could get some sleep that night! They arrived the next morning and we waited in earnest for the next opportunity. The weather forecast was good for Sunday and was due to improve through out the day. So again 7 in the evening, the pilot rang, ‘this time we’re going!’. I couldn’t sleep that night, I was half expecting to get a call in the night again telling me it was cancelled.
That never materialised, this was for real, 2 years waiting, this was it. We all got up at half 2 in the morning. There was a nervous and excited energy about that morning. Everything was in place. We met at the marina at 3.30 am. The official from the Channel Swimming Association briefed me and made sure I was aware of the rules, which are very plain; trunks not extending below the crotch, standard hat & goggles, no touching the boat and the swimmer mustn’t take on banned substances under WADA at any point during the swim. My Dad, Michelle and Beth seemed happy and ready to go. I hugged Mum for the last time and she reassured me ‘you’ll be fine, you’ve done all the work’. With that, the boat was untied and we set off for the start location at Samphire Hoe, a few miles outside of Dover. I watched the lights of Dover Port fade into the distance and began getting myself ready for the long swim ahead. Then it was time. The pilot said ‘right let’s go, you’re ready for this’. I jumped in, the water felt warm and I swam into the beach to stand clear of the water ready for the start. I think that start point has to be the loneliest place in marathon swimming. I took a moment to take it all in and part of me thought there’s still time for you to get out of this. Fortunately the other voice in my head shouted much louder ‘you knew it was going to be like this, no turning back, this is it!’. The boats horn sounded, I sprinted in dived into the waves. I was buzzing! The first hour went by relatively uneventful, first feed went down fine and my crew were getting into a rythym. Beth and Michelle smiling at me the entire time and willing me on. Then about half way through the next hour, my dad started vomiting on my side of the boat, I screamed at them to go on the other side of the boat so I couldn’t see. I then took on my 2 hour feed, the sun was now starting to shine through the water in bright beams, it was beautiful.
I noticed people running about the boat and I couldn’t see Dad anywhere. Beth told me ‘it’s okay, keep swimming, you’re doing great’. This wasn’t right, something had gone wrong and I was beginning to worry. Then the unthinkable happened Eric (pilot) came out on deck and waved me in ‘you’re Dads not well, we need to get him back to land’. I looked at him and for a moment thought, is this some kind of sick joke! It wasn’t. When I got back on the boat, I saw Dad layed down on the floor semi-conscious. I still wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, the conditions are perfect, I should still be in the water! Then once I got some warm clothes on Michelle came over after radioing for an ambulance to meet us at the marina and explained to me that Dad had been seriously sea sick, the boat had lurched and he had cracked his head on the side of the boat. I should explain Michelle’s a medical doctor. So I picked my crew well if people had a freak accidents! I checked if Dad was okay, he nodded, still looking quite dazed.
As we were travelling back I realised Dad hadn’t taken sea sickness tablets. It was like somebody had stolen my chance to do this. He got escorted off in the ambulance. I'm not sure Beth and Michelle knew what to say, not a lot to say really, apart from I'm so sorry or a comforting hug. Mum ran over and hugged me, I just burst into tears on her shoulder. This was the end of my channel swimming experience, no glory of landing in France, just a feeling of utter disappointment and despair. I don’t mind admitting that I found that quite hard to forgive. With time I did, I realised that could happen to anyone. None the less, it was still an expensive mistake.
As we were travelling back I realised Dad hadn’t taken sea sickness tablets. It was like somebody had stolen my chance to do this. He got escorted off in the ambulance. I'm not sure Beth and Michelle knew what to say, not a lot to say really, apart from I'm so sorry or a comforting hug. Mum ran over and hugged me, I just burst into tears on her shoulder. This was the end of my channel swimming experience, no glory of landing in France, just a feeling of utter disappointment and despair. I don’t mind admitting that I found that quite hard to forgive. With time I did, I realised that could happen to anyone. None the less, it was still an expensive mistake.
I went to the back of the que to go again at some point over the next few weeks. I waited for all the swimmers to go and it seemed like there was always 2 swimmers to go before me. Eventually I got quite hacked off about this and thought the wool was being pulled over my eyes. But fortunately another pilot (Stuart Gleeson) who had taken one of my best friends out rang me and said he could take me. This was on Thursday 29th September, almost a full month after my first attempt. Facing the prospect of having my swim delayed by a year, I decided to go for it. Saturday we travelled down to Dover, without Dad. This time Beth couldn’t make it, which couldn’t helped. This time Dave, a friend from home came with us. He was meant to go on the first attempt, but had forgotten his passport, so couldn’t go on the boat. Me, Mum and Dave were travelling down to together. Michelle was making her way down through the night and meeting us at 3 am the next morning at the marina in Dover. This time I wasn’t seeing the swim through rose tinted glasses and it felt on the whole a more sombre affair.
I slept well that night and felt contempt. We drove to the marina at 2.30 am. Again the observer (official) met me and shook my hand. We had the same one as the first attempt. He smiled and said ‘I’m so glad we’ve got see you again this year’. Stuart (new pilot) came over and shook my hand. This time it felt like everybody knew what had to be done, what it meant and the importance of getting it right this time. I said bye to mum with a tight hug, ‘you can do this André, you’ve done all the prep, there’s nothing stopping you this time’. Pilot ‘Right time to go’, we started to make our way to Samphire Hoe. I again watched the lights of Dover fade away. I read a few messages from friends and then handed my phone over to Michelle. She smiled at me and nodded, Dave gave me a pat on the back ‘time to get ready fella’. I got undressed in the cabin and put Vaseline on myself to stop chaffing. ‘Okay come on André, let’s go, you’re ready’. With one final look back at Dave and Michelle for reassurance I jumped in. I followed the light shining on the cliff face and got out onto the beach. I took a deep breath, stuck my thumbs up at the boat. The horn sounded, it was go time! I swam up alongside the left side of the boat. All I could see for the next 3 hours was the bright glare from the lights onboard the boat. Every so often I felt a sharp pain across my chest as jelly fish tumbled down my body. At least the tingling sensation all over my body was keeping me warm!
Eventually the sun started to shine through and I started to feel more comfortable in the water, still getting stung left, right and centre though. At 4 hours I decided that I didn’t want any more carb drink, all I wanted was a decent cup of tea at every feed. A feed is just simply taking on food and some liquid. I was doing this on the hour every hour. After I had switched over to my cups of tea I started to feel less bloated and more relaxed. Dave, Michelle and Keith (observer) never left the boat deck and for the most part watching me and cheering me on. Michelle even discovered her artistic streak with the white board I’d bought along, providing no end of entertainment for me and the odd cringe worthy ‘inspirational quote’. The sun started shinning brighter and brighter and the waves were settling. At 5 hours Dave said to me ‘your phone’s going nuts mate, everyone’s willing you on!’. He was right when I got looked at my phone afterwards, I had 111 text messages from my friends and well over 300 facebook notifications.
At 6 hours Michelle and Dave surprised me with a lovely hot chocolate! And at 9 hours Michelle jumped in with me to keep me company. This was her first time swimming in the channel, so she was a little nervous. I think the best part of the swim other than coming into land in France, was when I had her swimming next me. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone. Then at 10 hours, the shipping buoy that marked the start of the French inshore waters came into view, this mattered now, this was where you have to beat the tide or risk adding hours onto your swim time and potentially failing, I had come too far to let that happen. Things were hurting, I was tired, but pain is temporary, success is ever lasting. The weather was perfect! But I started looking up for France, it never seemed to get any closer. Each time I did look, there was a chorus of abuse all telling to get on with it!
Stuart then came out on deck, ‘right André you’re not out of the woods yet, so I need you to give me one last push and pull you’re f’ing finger out. Let’s finish this!’ Michelle got in with me again and kept me going, trying to stop me from straying from the boat. She got back on the boat after boat after 45 minutes and proceeded between her and Dave to cheer me in the whole way, waving their arms along. France was getting closer, I was getting ready to successfully finish a life-long dream. I asked Stuart ‘are we out of the current yet’, yep mate ‘you’ve not got long left, keep going!’. Then I noticed Dave and Michelle getting into their swim gear. This really was it now! I began speeding up. And sure enough the water began getting shallower and I started to scoop up sand in my hands. Then eventually realised that I was landing. I then stood up, a little dizzy with excitement and the fact that I had been horizontal for 13 + hours! I managed to clear myself of the water. I burst into tears, I couldn’t believe what had just happened. Michelle and Dave then rugby tackled me and hugged tightly. I had done it! A Frenchman came up to me and handed me pebble and said ‘bravo monsieur, tres bien!’. I smiled at him and shook his hand.
Staurt’s crew mate, took me back to the boat on the rib and got me back onto the boat safely. I was still completely speechless. I then looked at my phone and realised just how many people had been following the swim, the answer was a lot! We made our way back to Dover, satisfied in the knowledge the job was done. Mum was waiting for us at the marina, I immediately with some help, got off the boat and hugged her tightly. There are times when no words are needed, so a proud smile from Mum.
We then went off to the White Horse pub in Dover to sign my name off among all the over names that completed the swim over the years. We then all went off for a celebratory fish chips, me walking and moving a little slower than usual! When we got back to Varne Rdige, the owners, David & Evelyn were waiting with a bottle of champagne and big grins on their faces. Two massive hugs from both them, ‘we’re so proud of you!’.
Before I knew, it was time to head back down to Plymouth with Michelle for my 9 am lecture the next morning.
This was more than a swim, it was about proving I could do anything I put my mind to. Thank you so much for reading and to everyone for the support. My support crew, Dave and Michelle were truly amazing, I couldn’t have asked for better! Stuart, was pretty on the mark too, if you ever need a channel pilot, he’s one of the best in the business.
Thank you in no particular order to; Markes international, Plymouth University, Rowcroft Hosice, Crowdfunder UK, Tewkesbury School, Tewkesbury Triathlon Club, Tewkesbury Swimming Club (during April 2014) , Plymouth Marine Laboratory, Devonport Royal Swimming Association, my understanding supervisors at Cascades Leisure Centre, everyone in Devon & Cornwall Wild Swimming, the Dover Beach Crew, British Long Distance Swimming Association, Channel Swimming Association, Channel Swimming & Piloting Federtion, Varne Ridge Holiday Park for channel swimmer and last but not least to all my friends & family! This truly meant the world to me.
Happy swimming all!
André
Happy swimming all!
André