Channel Stories

I spent Saturday afternoon drinking cups of tea on the couch of Jane Murphy, wife of Kevin Murphy (King of the Channel), along with Freda Streeter, mother of Alison Streeter (Queen of the Channel.) I could not have been talking to two more experienced support crew in the world. Some of the stories they told were jaw-dropping (but probably not fit to be posted on a blog, to protect the identities of those involved!)

And then Neil Streeter, Freda's son and long-time Channel pilot, dropped in for a cuppa. We talked about the Channel for a bit, and then some more, and then some more. I was actually chatting about weather and tides in one of the most fickle stretches of water anyone tries to swim across, with people who know more about them than pretty much anyone around. I am so blessed.

Ever since the last couple of tide windows blew out in August, apparently the Channel has been 'weird'. Last week, the tide carried people up the Channel one way but then didn't really turn much and carry them back the other way, seemingly why several people didn't finish their swims on Friday (OK, that's not a particularly technical explanation so I'll just stick with the fact that it was 'weird'.)

Those who did finish last week took much longer than anticipated, on the whole. One man whom Freda said was a good strong swimmer of around the 10-12 hour mark took 18 hours. We got a text from Kevin at about 3.30pm on Saturday afternoon. He was observing for a solo swimmer who, after about 9 hours, was 5 miles from the Cape. It then took him another 10 hours to finish. An incredible swim of 19.5 hours, but much longer than expected.

I absorbed all this and am preparing myself in case the Channel is still 'weird' next week. I will keep swimming as long as it takes. Freda's main piece of advice: "Never, never, never ask how far you have to go," because, as evidenced on Kevin's swim on Saturday, no one on the boat will ever be able to give you an honest answer and you might not like what you hear.

Just keep swimming til your feet hit sand.