This is a story about following your dreams—the cost and the payoff.
A dark silhouette stood at the edge of the English Channel at Shakespeare Beach, the White Cliffs of Dover behind and the sun just peeking over the horizon ahead. Matthew Johnson was tall for twelve. The guys on the Junior American Swim Team called him the Metal Giant because he was so much taller than everybody and he wore braces.
The salty surf splashed at his feet, daring him to go further. He would take the dare—when he was ready. His thoughts went to the hundreds of miles of training, to the many meets and marathons, and the endless fundraising. This was his dream. You bet he would take the dare.
His father, who pulled double duty as his coach, called from the escort boat. “Whenever you're ready son!”
Matthew wiped at the chalky white 'channel grease' smeared all over his body. Pulling his goggles down and adjusting his swim cap, he waded into the bone-chilling water. “66º isn't so cold. I think Lake Superior was colder.”
Matthew waved his arms above his head. This was the signal to the official observer that he was beginning his cross. Matthew ran and dove into the water. The cold yanked at his breath. He spit out a bit of the briny ocean. His arms cut at the waves. The incoming tide pushed at him, but not as hard as Matthew thought it would. “Yeah, I can do this. I can definitely do this.”
Not much happened the first five hours. His body had started 'talking' to him, but he'd been through that before. He stayed 15 to 20 feet away from the boat, coming closer for his 30-minute feedings. His father would pass a cup of sports drink or hot broth to him using a long stick with a cup holder. Lunch was a carbo-bar and distilled water.
“How far?” he yelled up at his dad.
“Don't worry about that. Just swim.”
Easy for you to say, thought Matthew as he finished off the bar and plunged forward. He could see a shipping boat farther ahead seeming to block his passage. Ships are informed of the presence of channel swimmers and this one would be gone long before he got close. But the wake would not. Already he felt the first waves hit, forcing him back.
“Stupid boat!” A clump of oily seaweed slapped his mouth as he shouted. He wanted to puke.
2:00 pm. Over halfway across thick, dark clouds threatened the clear, blue sky. The wind was getting colder and the water was getting choppier.
“No, not now.”
Matthew looked over at the escort. His father was holding up the white-board they were using for quick messages. STORM. Matthew swam in closer to the boat.
“We might have to call it, son,” Mr. Johnson shouted over the rail.
“Please, Dad. Let's wait.”
“This could be bad.”
“Please.” He didn't want to be stopped now, not because of weather.
“Stay close.”
Matthew tread water near the boat as thunder rumbled past. A few heavy raindrops plummeted around him.
PLOP.
PLOP. PLOP.
Plop. Plop. Plop. Plop.
And it was gone.
8:15 pm. Matthew had been in the water a little over 14 1/2 hours. He was lucky he hadn't run into any jellyfish. The crew had spotted a group earlier and he swam around them. That added a half hour to his time.
It was getting dark. His dad had passed him a glow stick at the last feeding. He attached it to the back of his swim cap. It looked like a glowing alien finger sticking out of the back of his head.
“You're less than a mile and a half from shore,” yelled his dad.
His arms and legs were lead. His lips were swollen from the saltwater. Most of the channel grease was gone. He couldn't see very well in the dark, but he thought he could make out the shoreline as he bobbed up and down. A mile and a half. The moon seemed closer.
“OK,” he said weakly. “I'm going for it.”
With his goggled face toward France he dug his way through the surf. But the tides were changing and dragged him back with each stroke. “I'm not going to make it. I'm going to drown within sight of the beach.”
A light flashed over his head. Then again. And again. Looking up he could make out a dark silhouette at the edge of the cape and the light circling on top. The lighthouse. Cape Gris Nez, France. His landing point.
Adrenalin raced through him. With a renewed purpose he punched through the waves. The channel tides continued to pull at him, to drag him back and down. Matthew wasn't going down. His hand hit sand. The surf gave up and his stomach and knees scraped bottom. Crawling to shore, cold and tired, he cried. He had crossed. 16 hours, 39 minutes. He wasn't the fastest or the youngest, but he, Matthew Johnson, had crossed the English Channel.
Channel Trivia
The English Channel is approximately 22-24 miles across from Shakespeare Beach, Dover, England to Cape Gris Nez, France. Swimmers actually swim 30-40 miles because the tides push them from side to side. The water temperature is about 60°F. (Try sitting in a tub of ice water all day!)
The French call the Channel "La Manche" (the sleeve).
Channel grease is a mixture of Lanolin® and Vaseline®. Swimmers smear about two pounds of this gunk all over their body to help prevent hypothermia (Look it up!).
The first person to swim across the channel was Matthew Webb in August 1875. It took him 21 hours 45 minutes. He died a few years later attempting to swim under Niagara Falls. Actually, the first person to cross single-handed was Captain Paul Boyton in May 1875, but he wore an inflatable suit with a sail attached to his left boot while using a paddle.
Other records(as of 12/07):
Youngest Person: Thomas Gregory from the United Kingdom in 1988, 11 years 11 months, in 11 hours 54 minutes. (Since 1994 the rules forbid solo attempts by swimmers under the age of 14. (Records and Firsts))
Oldest Person: George Burnstad, USA, 70 years, 4 days crossed in 15 hours 59 minutes.
Fastest Crossing: Petar Stoychev from Bulgaria swimming from England to France in 2007 crossed in 6 hours 57 minutes 50 seconds.
First Woman: Gertrude Ederle from USA in 1926, 14 hours 39 minutes.
Most Crossings: Alison Streeter has made 43 crossings.
First to Swim the Channel Underwater: Fred Baldasare from USA in 1962 crossed in a frogman suit in 19 hours 1 minute.
Sources for sidebar:
Channel Questions, Marcia Cleveland and DevPlan, Inc., www.doversolo.com
Channel Swimming Records, www.channelswimming.com
Records and Firsts, www.doverdc.co.uk/museum/information_resources/channel_swimmers/records__firsts.aspx
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