Thank you

I wish I could express the depth of my feelings regarding all of the emails and Facebook postings and tweets I received during and after my swim. I had over 400 emails and every one was encouraging and joyful and helpful and supportive. I especially loved the photos posted of the bead bracelets on face book. The number of people staying up late into the night watching my dot crawl across the channel was unbelievable. And several people just hauled off and called my phone in the middle of the night to say, "Keep going". It was the most amazing out pouring of love and support. People were watching and worried. I'm not sure my mom and dad will forgive me. Too nerve wracking. I must admit, the pressure not to let you all down was a driving force in my sucess, and when JP called I told him that I was going to make it, so after a few more hours and I seemed to be no closer, I was sorry I'd promised him. But it all worked out in the end, and I love you all for the messages. The internet might have it's bad points, but this is an amazingly powerful use of the world wide web. I am blown away by the gift you have all given me. This has been an amazing journey and while I can't really remember what it was like, I am glad I did it. There were dark times, and highs, and I well know that I couldn't have done it without you all.

To Calais the easy way by Ferry

Jackie, Dave, Jorge and I went to France on the Ferry. Partly to let Jorge see what the channel was like and partly to find the beach I landed on and see England from the other side. The Ferry ride took less that 1.5 hours and was warm and cozy. We could even shop for chocolates! We drove all over Calais and down a long long lane and then walked over a mile to the sea. God knows if it was the same place, but who cares, it was beautiful, it was France, and it was just like I remembered from Saturday morning. We played in the waves, but didn't swim. The wind was so strong that we couldn't have stayed even if we wanted to. Then we drove south to try and find Jackie's beach. We couldn't quite figure out how to get there by car so we went off to Cap Griz Nez and had lunch. The beach there was beautiful, but it was finally clear why a swimmer might get as far as a mile off France and still not make it in. The current was shocking and the wind was fierce. The pilots earn their fees if you are to have any hope of getting in. We drove along the coast road back toward Calais. The French countryside was beautiful. It was a wonderful trip. Easy peasy and home by 9:00 pm.

Jackie and Dave have been amazing host. So kind and generous. They have opened their home to me and Jorge and included us in their family chaos. The weather has been horrible. A few swimmers have gone out but I think only one was successful. I can't thank Jackie and Stuart enough for getting me out there before my window opened. If I had waited and tried to go as planned, I never would have gotten the chance to swim at all. I am so lucky. My entire trip has been like that. At every turn there was Jackie and Dave or Robert and Hannah making my dreams come true. This debt will be very tough to repay. I hope that they all come visit me in California.

I made it!!! 18 Hours and 40 minutes Samphire Hoe to Calais

Details to follow, I wrote up the story, but lost it in the ethernet... so I need to start over.

England to France 18:40 August 5/6/2011

I don't know where to begin, but I know that I have already forgotten half of what's happened so I'd better try to get some of my swim down before it's all gone. It's so much like childbirth, your brain immediately softens your memories or you would never have another kid. Don't know why it would be like that for a swim since it doesn't matter to the species if I ever do any thing like this again, but the details are drifting away and at lunch I was already talking with my fabulous crew about other swims to tackle when just last night I swore to my daughter that I wouldn't do anything like this ever again... So funny.

To start off, I had the best crew in the world. Hands down, no questions, the best. And to be honest, we met on the internet. That thing you tell your kids not to do, I did, and it turned out brilliantly. I met Robert and Hannah when I signed up to swim the Gibraltar Straights in July of 2010. They were booked to swim the week after me, and we decided to meet on my last night in Tarifa and have dinner. Robert wanted to talk to someone who had done the swim before he was to go, and I wanted to talk to people who would understand what I had just done. We liked each other straight off, and they kept talking up the English Channel as my next adventure. Robert said that I needed to set another goal because people often get down after a big accomplishment. I couldn't take that in then, but a few weeks later, his words rang true and I found myself thinking about the Channel. We kept in touch over the internet and after January I paid my fees and booked a pilot. I didn't get up the courage to ask Robert to come on my boat until late this summer because it was so important to me that he be there and I didn't know what I would do if he said no. Lucky for me he was game. He thought Hannah wouldn't be able to get off work, but if my attempt was on the right day, she too would come along. This turned out to be a godsend because Hannah was brilliant on twitter and she took about 400 photographs and hours of video. I don't know how I'll ever repay their kindness. And it was matched and maybe even surpassed by the kindness of Jackie and Dave Cobell who picked me up at the airport, got food for my pilot and crew, gave me a place to sleep and got me to the boat in fine time to start my swim. Jackie Cobell is a World Record holder for the longest ever successful channel swim 28 hours and 44 minutes. After her swim she was interviewed on National television saying that she would like to swim the Alcatraz Swim in California. My club, the South End Rowing Club, called her up and invited her to come to San Francisco and be the guest of honor for the Alcatraz Invitational last September. I was her buddy swimmer and tour guide. We hit it off immediately and after meeting her and swimming with her, she gave me the courage to believe that I might be able to take on the Channel. We kept in touch and I called her in January and told her that I was booking a swim. She said that I was welcome to stay with her, and that she would like to help out on my swim. It was Jackie who Stuart Gleeson (my Channel Swimming Association Pilot) called to offer the early start. She called me in California and I jumped at the chance without asking any questions. I believe in fate and I figured the channel gods were giving me the nod. And looking at the weather now, I might have been blown out if I had had to wait for my official window. I broke all the rules I thought I was supposed to follow, I went on a Spring tide instead of the smaller, gentler Neap tide. I started my swim never having practiced in Dover Harbor. I didn't give myself any time to get over my jet lag. I just jumped at the chance to swim. My biggest fear was that I would train forever, spend tons of money to fly to England, wait for ten days, and never get to swim. And thanks to Jackie's quick work, and my lovely Pilot, I made it from Samphire Hoe to Calais (almost Dunkirk) in 18 hours 40 minutes, August 5/6th, 2011.

I am so sad because I wrote about 1,000 words about this adventure and they disappeared into the ethernet... so this may seem a bit disjointed, but I keep thinking that I've already said this or that. But here goes again.

...They don't know it, but I am swimming for the ladder on the back of the Sea Leopard. If they would only let me catch up. I would take hold and give up on this crazy swim. The worst time has been from 11:30 pm to 3:30 am. It is so dark. I am so cold. I have had a cramp in my groin that started before it got dark and just won't let go (the cramp ends up lasting for ten hours). I have been shivering on and off since about midnight. I have never shivered while I swam before. It is scary. The cramp painful, but manageable, and Jackie and Robert have given me aspirin which has helped a bit. They never leave my sight. one of them is ALWAYS watching me. If one does sit down, t is only to fix my next feed, or to take a GPS reading. This is not a solo swim. It is a team effort. The Sea Leopard is so small that it feels like the crew are here suffering with me. And with the torrential rain, they are as wet as if they were swimming themselves.

I got to England at about 2:00 pm on Thursday afternoon. My Pilot had asked us to meet up with the boat in Dover Harbor at 12:30 am. I had called Robert and Hannah before I left California so they were already on there way when I landed. Jackie and Dave picked me up at the airport (thank you) and when we got home to "Blue Chips" in Tonbridge, we called Stuart and he told us that the wind was refusing to "lay down" and he put us off for twelve hours. I called Robert but since they had already left for Dover they decided to press on and they'd see us in the morning. Jackie put me to bed, and I took an Ambien and hoped that I could get some sleep. I remember waking up several times and thinking, tomorrow I am going to swim the English Channel, and then I would role over and tell myself to let it go and get some sleep. We got up and had some "porridge" and got in the car for Dover. Jackie's daughter Vickie and her foster son Luke came with us to Dover. We met Robert and Hannah at the Premier Hotel, and casually sat around having some coffee. Jackie suggested that maybe we should go to the boat and meet Stuart. Robert was shocked to learn that we were set to cast off in an hour. He had thought that we were put off for a day, not just 12 hours. He jump started us and things never calmed down after that. Lucky for me too. Robert and Jackie talked a lot about the feeding and what to tell me while I swam... and I started to get ready. The official CSA observer, Keith, wanted to go over a few things with me. The first hick-up was that my two piece swim suit was not allowed and did I have a "standard costume" I could use? I thought he was kidding, but he wasn't. So I changed out of my treasured South End swim suit (gift from Katrina) and put on an old stand by with thin straps that would plague me all the way across (took the top off long before it got dark and only put it back on to walk out in France).

The boat got underway and Jackie slathered on the sun screen and the bag balm (my chosen "channel grease"). As we were leaving the harbor, Keith asked everyone for our passports. We immediately turned around and Robert sprinted for his car to get theirs (lucky thing we weren't stopped and boarded, because they had forgotten their passports and only had their drivers licences). It was about a 15 minute ride to the beach for my start, Samphire Hoe on the south side of where the chunnel starts. The boat stopped and I just dove in. No fuss, no fuss, no thought! No thought that this was really it. The beginning of my channel attempt. Maybe that was the right thing, but looking back i was damn cavalier. I swam to the beach, and as the CSA rules, I walked completely out of the water into a group of Australians who had just watched their mate take off on her solo swim. They cheered and took my picture. I raised my hand, and Stuart sounded the horn and back into the channel I went.

The water was a beautiful green and not too cold. The sun was shinning and the sea was churning. It wasn't exactly rough, but it wasn't the mill pond I had been promised. I guess that was just a load of crap, but it only got worse. It was the hardest swimming I had ever experienced. I can't really describe what it was like. I swam uphill and down, I had to drive my hand into the waves. I couldn't get a rhythm and every third or fourth breath, I'd be slapped in the face with a mouth full of water. I drank gallons of water. I swam on the right side of the boat. There was a lot of traffic. I was dumbfounded by the amount and size of the ships going by. One came so close that Stuart asked me to stop swimming and wait so it would pass us by. I welcomed the chance to chat even though it was dark and cold.

I wanted to stop. I wanted to get on that boat. But Jackie and Robert were so earnest and stalwart. They weren't giving up on me. I told myself, if I could make it until daylight, I would feel better and it would be warmer. I thought I could hold on until daybreak. Unfortunately the dawn did not bring sun or warmth. But France was closer, and off and on I could see the lights and the trees, so I just kept swimming. The pilot told me that the tide would turn soon and that I would be able to reach the beach after that. Robert had sopped showing me the time and the miles going by. I thought this was because I was so close and the swim was almost over. I knew that your eyes played tricks on you from the water, and it often looked like you weren't getting any closer. But what really happened was that Robert had run out of numbers. My swim was taking so long and his cards stopped at 15 hours. And I had swum so far north that I was off his chart so he had no idea how many miles I had covered by this point. Ignorance is bliss, I just kept swimming. I was expecting the tide to turn and push me into the beach. Stuart meant that it would turn and I might finally be able to cross the last half a mile. Then the boat stopped. I had been waiting for this. Mark Stone had told me about the amazing feeling when the boat stops because it means it's too shallow, and you are almost there. Then the magical moment came and Stuart asked me if I could stand up? I thought he was crazy, I was still way off shore, of course I couldn't stand up. I tried to put my feet down and nothing. But now I knew that I would be able to soon. And then I could! I kept swimming anyway because I had planned to "swim until you touch sand". And I did. I touched the sand, and stood up and walked out onto a beach full of birds with a Frenchman with a rifle on his shoulder. I walked up to him and shook his hand. I don't think he thought much of it, but I was pleased. Hannah came ashore in the tender and brought the South End flag and the video camera. We scoured the beach looking for a rock, but there were none. I picked up a few mussle shells and we got back in the tender and headed back to the Sea Leopard. Jackie threw her arms around me, Robert took photos and opened a bottle of champagne. Jackie helped me into some dry clothes and we headed back to Dover. I talked the whole way back, no sleep for me. I was so high, I felt like I could walk on water to get back. Dave met our boat waving cheerfully from the dock and then we went to the beach to meet the CS & PF beach crew, Freda, Emma, and Irene. We stayed for nearly and hour chatting and excepting congratulations all around. It was magical. Everyone was shocked that I was still standing, but I couldn't imagine missing this.

I Guess I'm Not In Charge

My swim has been postponed 12 hours. Now I am to meet the boat at 1:00 pm Friday. I am a bit disappointed, but also relieved that I will get a few hours in England before getting wet. Now I can get a shower, a good night's sleep, a good meal and a chance to see Dover by daylight. I'm sure this is all good, but I did like the idea of jumping from plane to boat to channel without getting a chance to think. Now I will have time to freak out, but I think now that I am so obviously not in control, I don't feel the need to freak out. I am being well cared for by Jackie and Dave. My pilot is calling the weather shots, and Robert and Hannah are on there way to Dover as we speak. What ever happens will be my story.

More soon, and now maybe I'll be able to figure out how to twitter...

It's a GO 1:30 am GMT Keep Watching

When I woke up this morning all I thought I had to do was write up the minutes from last night's OMPA meeting and pack. As I sat at my computer trying desperately to finish up the notes, I got a call from Jackie Cobell in England. Her first words were, "I've had a call from your pilot and he's offering you the chance to go tomorrow night." I said yes before she could explain why he was offering me a chance three days before my window officially opens. As my pilot Stuart Gleeson explained it, the channel looks like a mill pond at the moment, and the wind is coming and might blow out my chance for a swim. So it's not exactly "Now or never", but it's, "Now would be a good time." I love it. It seems fitting for this pushy Californian to jump from plane to boat to Channel without passing go or practicing on the beach in Dover. It feels like fate stepping in to help make my dreams come true. Except, I never did actually dream of this, I just sort of fell into deciding that I wanted to give it a go, and well here I am. I hope I worked hard enough, we'll all soon know when and if it all comes together. I packed my carry on as if I were getting on the boat, everything for the swim is in there (and nothing else). My cap, goggles, suit, earplugs, food, grease, and glow sticks, what else could I need? A friend said that her heart skipped a beat when she read my quick email that my swim has been scheduled. Well, boy, howdy, so did mine. I found myself holding my breath at odd moments for the next few hours of mad scramble packing. Big sighs and forgetting to breathe. It's funny, but I couldn't relax until I got to the airport. And now here I sit, at the gate telling you all about my hopes and fears. There is something to be said for this powerful Internet tool. How else could I tell you all how much I love you, and how much it means to me to know that you are out there following my progress. You are, right? There's a link on the right of this page, click it! This is a big test of strength, but a bigger test of faith, mine in me, yours in me, mine in yours and around and around. Another friend said that she felt like she was getting on the plane to go too, and in so many ways you all are going to cross the channel with me. When the going gets tough, I may curse you all a bit, but if I do it friend by friend, and swim a hundred strokes for each of you, I'll probably be done and on the beach in France before I finish the list. And you will all be on the beach in France because I will surely be hallucinating by then (just kidding, mom). So thank you all for your love and support, I can feel it now, and I will feel it when I jump into the black water at 1:30 am off of Shakespeare Beach... Know this, if nothing else, I am very happy I started this, I am reaching the starting line healthy (a big achievement for endurance athletes), I have put in a lot of hours of training, and what ever happens, it's been an adventure of a life time...... already....... No regrets!

Thank You

Thank you everyone for a lovely party at the South End Rowing Club last Friday. The Happy Hour was a perfect send off for my swim. I am feeling so lucky. At this point there is nothing more I can do that will benefit my chances, so I am enjoying myself, and swimming for pleasure. Now I just want to get to Dover and give it a try!


Some smart person reminded me to enjoy the anticipation and not wish it all away. So I am trying to. I have done all of the little tasks one does before they travel, and I am printing out emails full of well wishes and wisdom to read when the going gets tough, or just on the plane ride. And I would like to thank so many people who have been instrumental in getting me to this place. They are too numerous to mention by name, but I hope you all know how important you are to me, and how much your contribution has meant.


I need to thank my parents, all of them :-) for their never wavering support and their financial assistance. They think I can do this. Orinda Auqarics, whose financial contribution pushed me into to this in the first place, and Suzie. How do I thank someone who has been with me from the start. Suzie Dods convinced me that I could swim Gibraltar, and helped me train, but it was her own success with the English Channel and the Catalina Channel that inspired me to give this big swim a go. We often swam together on club swims, and she is always so encouraging. Then she connected me to the English Channel chat line and I was hooked. I have been reading about other swimmer's trials and tribulations and successes for two years now. Thank you Suzie for opening up my world to the possibilities... you are an inspiration, and a good friend.

This blog always seems to rah rah and Pollyanna, but I have to say that this crazy journey has been very positive. I have never been so happy and content in my own skin and in my own life. Hard work is a reward in itself. Succeed or fail, I will have benefited from training for this epic event. Now if I could just get the chance to do the bloody swim!!!