July 24th, 1883

Niagara maelstrom
Photo used with permission by reddit user zxo

This is a maelstrom.

Indeed the very definition of such, as it’s the whirlpool at the base of Niagara Falls. It’s where Captain Matthew Webb tragically died on this day, July 24th, 1883. It was taken by a photographer zxo  and it grabbed my attention immediately I saw it and they gave me permission to use it here.

After his historic, (in a real sense), first ever successful solo of the English Channel on August 24th, 1875, Captain Webb was unable to parlay his global fame into anything more substantial, despite investments of his prize and an overseas lecture tour.

He’d become known as a swimmer, so he swam more.

Exhibition races in Boston and Manhattan, a “*world championship race*” against his arch-rival to be first across the Channel, Irish-American US Champion Paul Boynton. Boynton had worn and championed the use of an inflatable rubber suit, and had he been first across, marathon swimming would likely be quite different today. (Boynton did an exhibition swim in Dublin down the Liffey river wearing the suit which was watched by 30,000 people). Webb won the championship race also, but a stunt at the Boston Horticultural Show where he floated for 128 hour in a tank didn’t suffice to provide for his young wife and two young children.

His family knew nothing about the Niagara swim. In desperation Webb took up the challenge on a promise of $12,000, a considerable sum in those days. Thousands of spectators were brought by train to watch.

Wearing the same swimming costume as that in which he had swum the Channel, he stepped into the huge current, but very quickly it grabbed hold of him. He started strongly but very quickly the current took him. He threw his arms in the air and was pulled under, where he hit his head on the rocks and died, his body being recovered four days later. Prior to the swim he had expressed his hope that “If I die they will do something for my wife“.

A friend of his, Robert Watson, the journalist who had accompanied him in the boat on his Channel swim, also traveled with him to Niagara. Watson reported: “As we stood face to face I compared the fine handsome sailor I had first met with the broken-spirited and terribly altered appearance of the man who now courted death in the whirlpool rapids. His object was not suicide but money and imperishable fame“.

Any English Channel swimmer cannot but think of Captain Webb, both his feats and his tragedy. We celebrate most commonly the date of his Channel crossing.

But he was a man, more than just a swimmer. It is often said by Channel swimmers that the English Channel changes us. It is rarely mentioned that those changes are not always positive. We cannot but think that out of such achievement came such sadness. And yet also motivation for so many. But we can at least say he achieved his second goal of imperishable fame.

It is not known whether anyone did anything for his wife or if his fame or achievement sustained them in any way. Captain Webb has no living descendants.

A Further Shore – V- The Greensward

Swimming is a lot of things to different people at different times, even to me. But what it isn’t, is a method of travel. We may travel long distances while swimming, we may even be swimming to a destination, but we are not traveling per se.  But somehow, I’d traveled.

The buildings stopped before I reached the top of the hill. There was no apparent difference in size or appointment between the lower down houses and those higher up.

I had not seen a single person nor heard any sounds of people. It was like everyone has just stepped out back, at the same moment.

Quite abruptly I passed the last house. How long had I walked through the town? This prompted another thought. What time was it? Checking the elapsed time of a swim is such an ingrained habit for me, yet I hadn’t looked at my watch since I’d passed behind Brown’s Island. I checked my watch. The watches start triangle was where I’d set it, at twenty-five minutes to twelve. The minute hand was a few minutes past twelve. Twenty eight minutes? Or an hour, two hours, three hours, and twenty-eight minutes? I looked around for the umpteenth time. Nothing changed. I looked at the watch again and now noticed the second hand. It wasn’t moving. Had my watch stopped?

Beyond the building was the hilltop. The crown was simply covered in a lush green lawn. The road stopped but a path was worn to the top. From up here I could see that the lower road which had led off right out of sight and disappeared had done so because the Sea reached inwards beyond that point.

I never considered stopping, the entire town seemed draped below this green crown like a mantle, with the summit the culmination of its layout. The gradient was now steep but consequently the distance upwards to the zenith was short. The steepness forced my eyes down in front and so the sudden lessening of the slope as I reached the summit was surprising.

The fifty steps up the cliff from the Guillamenes to the car park has regularly left me breathless, adapted as I am for swimming. I felt nothing similar here. The greensward opened out in a circle. There were no signs or seats or anything except grass. To my right in the distance though I could see the Sea. The lower road had curved away because there was no more land only a couple of kilometres beyond the town. I looked left and saw the grass summit descend in a gentle ridge. With the Sun ahead of me, that meant right was north and left down the ridge was south. The harbour and town were situated close to the north end of either a large island or a long peninsula leading from the south.

Ahead of me the hill fell away very gently. The slopes were covered in a patchwork of meadows, variegated vegetation delineating the boundaries, no hard fenced fields, the various colours indicating a variety of vegetation, from the vivid green of summer barley,  to dusty  ripening wheat and tall corn stalks, all different stages of growth apparent at the same time.

But ahead of me, beyond the meadows, to the West? The Sun was well down the sky. The photographer in me assessed the golden light and the shadow I threw behind me. It was a good way from setting, and a longer way from morning.

The quilted fields on the western slope ended at the Sea, which stretched left and right, sparkling into the hazy distance. I looked out over that Sea, argent and aureate. A Sea like none I’ve seen or swum. Molten metal and liquid air and lifeblood. Sacred like lifeblood. The light blazed at me again. The light blasted me. I closed my eyes, and the light did not diminish. Then, opening my eyes, I saw through the haze.

A Further Shore – IV – The Town

Subconsciously, I’d pulled the goggles from my face, feeling the familiar discomfort around my eyes as the suction released. They dangled weightless from my fingers.

Above the seafront buildings rose a hill and a town. A road led through the near buildings to disappear into tiered houses that fronted a low hill. I was stunned. Tiny Annestown rested well back from the sea on a road up a hill, a village so small that it had neither a shop nor a pub nor a church and only a dozen houses. Bunmahon lay beyond a stream behind a beach. Stradbally was a kilometre from the shore, and anyway I knew all those villages. I just kept thinking; “I know this coast, I know this coast“. Those villages had tarmac roads, cars, electricity. Modern buildings. All I could think was to seek explanation, comparison, but I had none. My mind whirlpooled around the same vortex. “I know this coast”.

I stood there, a middle-aged slightly overweight man, on a sunny warm afternoon, wearing nothing but Speedoes which were already almost dried in the warm breeze.

It was quiet. Not silent. Peaceful. The breeze was barely audible on various surfaces. The Sea muted its gentle song behind me. My bare feet scraped the sand. I heard the guillemots croak. But I saw no-one. It felt empty. But not deserted. Everything was well maintained. It felt how the Guillamenes feels on mornings I am there by myself. Not abandoned, just that I arrive and swim and leave, without ever seeing anyone, or being seen.

You can feel a temporary emptiness, feel the lack of people, even when you can’t see all the possible locations where they may be. You’ve stepped into your own time and space in a location. Your house isn’t really empty, it’s just that everyone else is out. As I was here. Everyone was out, and I was here alone.

I didn’t look back at the Sea, but I moved forward. I ignored the building on the seafront and entered the lane leading up to the town.

By now I’d dried, but I wasn’t cold. No Afterdrop, no chill. But this was Spring wasn’t it? I should have chills, should need to be dressed. But actually I was warm. The Sun gently warmed my face and chest, feeling like a good Irish late July afternoon. The Sun not strong enough to burn. The swim cap started to feel tight and I took it off also, catching and snagging a few tiny hairs on the back of my neck in the now dry folds of the silicon.

My head scanned left to right, right to left. I was on the main road. Occasional lanes snakes off between houses. At a fork, the right hand road seemed to leave the small town and lead along the coast until it quickly curved back left out of sight. I stayed on the main road up through the town.

I looked at the houses. Individual, well maintained, but overall similar, even differences in size or shape weren’t so broad. The houses were stone of various grey hues. Roofs of slate. Brightly-coloured doors, some full, some half doors. Some half-door tops stood ajar, but I did not consider entering. Square and rectangular wooden-shuttered windows on ground level. Two or even three-storeyed, the lower floors had narrow mullioned windows while the upper floors had circular windows, and many upper floors had hints of turrets. There were flowers in window pots and stone troughs along the roadside.

There were two predominant sounds. The breeze soughed across the slate, a slight susurration. Everywhere was the murmur of water. There were small fountains between houses, and dotted in the centre of the road, with surrounding pools and low walls. Embrasures led from the fountains and narrow runnels ran down stone coursings in the lanes, joining but never widening, only deepening. What happened when there was a rainstorm?  There were shallow open rain gutters in the stone on the road sides but the house were without downpipes. The streams gurgled, fed into and out of the fountains, casting a melody of gently-playing water over the town.

On some stone beside doors, over windows, in the street on slender obelisks, were graven character or letters or runes. There were no hard angles, instead they seemed organic, flowing. I couldn’t comprehend the origin. They weren’t the ancient pre-Celtic Ogham runes. Were they addresses or names or titles? There were no apparent commercial buildings. No signs hung outside. No windows to display wares or attract custom.

I continued on. The lane wound around and switch-backed upwards.

 

Previous Articles

A Further Shore – I – The Arch

A Further Shore – II – The Golden Light

A Further Shore – III – The Harbour

 

A Further Shore – III – The Harbour

Instead of a beach, shadows loomed over me and the water went from gold to black in sudden deep shade.

A wall of dressed stone met my fingertips and loomed two metres over me. It was a pier, stone mooring bollards along the edge. There was another pier twenty or thirty metres away to my left, like the coast had projected horizontal crenellations into the sea.

There are no stone piers on the Copper Coast. Even concrete slipways are rare on our exposed shore which lacks any suitable bays as harbours.  The Copper Coast rocks are primarily Old Red Sandstone and soft limestone. Why was I thinking about stone? I sought rationality, logic. The type of stone didn’t help. No, wait, the lee side of Tramore Pier behind the concrete is dressed stone. That’s a stone pier. But Tramore pier is how many kilometres away? Eight, nine? Away from where? I’ve swum the Copper Coast, every metre. I did not know this place and Tramore is just a single angled pier. Logic didn’t help.

There were steps near me built into the pier. In the shadows in the water the light became a type of dusk. Tarzan-style, head up, two strokes and I reached the stairs. I gingerly got a foot under me, then the second, and I stood and I climbed up. The pier edges were a charcoal grey, with the main mass a slightly lighter grey. Dark grey stone mooring bollards. The surface seemed almost swept clean except a dusting of bleached sand with faint mother-of-pearl sparkles. The rock was warm and the sand very fine under my bare feet. An ever-so-slight breeze had returned, a whisper that quickly dried my bare skin as I looked around me.from this vantage I could see other piers projecting out into sea.

A harbour. But no stacks of pots. No boats, no coils of gaudy nylon rope, no hauled out punts or moored tenders. No detritus of a working harbour.

The piers were fronted with low stone buildings, one or two stories, also stone, with slate roofs. All orderly, well maintained and pretty in the austere way of coastal communities, especially in the soft light.  No electricity poles. No diesel tanks, no mechanics.

This could not be. But it was. I was just a swimmer. You can’t accidentally swim to France or to somewhere you’ve never seen, never been. Arms are too weak against the Sea, despite our desire to prove otherwise.

We swim in part because it human-scales the world. Swimming makes the world both bigger and smaller. It becomes immense against the strength of our shoulders. But it becomes small and intimate and local, limited also by our shoulders. Driving a road a thousand times is not like walking it once. Sitting on the beach a thousand times is not like swimming out to the horizon once. We remember the scale of the world we’ve forgotten in the rest of our lives, we remember the absolute importance of the horizon.

What was this place?

Where was this place?

 

Previous parts

A Further Shore – I – The Arch

A Further Shore – II – The Golden Light

A Further Shore – II – The Golden Light

I’d swum a double handful of strokes on one breath, and seen so little and yet so much. Only water, rocks, kelp, light? You don’t understand.

Time to breath and navigate, I lifted my head. Golden sunlight dazzled me, washed over me. I know it had been months, the previous autumn since I’d last swum Kilfarassey, but surely the arch only dog-legged slightly? The mid-day Sun should have been to my left, instead it was ahead. I filled my lungs and swam on, out past the surrounding reefs for a few metres, until I could swing right, to the north, back toward the beach.

Out past the rocks I swam, so that I could see past Burke’s Island to the coast almost a kilometre away. The beach. Where was the beach and the cliffs? I kicked and sat up, threading water, my hands sculling as I peered right. Was the glare on the fogged and smeared goggles, which seemed so clear underwater now deceiving me? I couldn’t see the beach. Where’s the beach? I didn’t think anything. Involuntarily my head whipped around and as it did, mere fractions of a second, I saw the dark line of the coast ahead of me.

Wait. Wait. The Sun was ahead of me and the coast was ahead of me. What? That can’t. That can’t. This wasn’t just forgetting details from last summer. This Copper Coast is in my blood, no-one, no-one knows it like I do.

Don’t panic. Everything I know about the Sea kicked in. Everything learned, every time I risked a rock or a tunnel or a cave or a sketchy entrance or dangerous exit, every time in rough water, big water, unknown water, when I was by myself, testing myself, everything clamped down inside into “stay calm, you know this, stay calm“.

I felt it in my gut. My stomach twisted but I stayed calm. The reefs looked the same. The gaps were where I expected, the reefs all lined up in relation with each other. I looked behind. The Keyhole Arch was there, of course. The raucous guillemots still wheeled and the herring gulls still cried. But when I looked again, the coast was still in front, the  green of the fields and cliffs blackened and flattened by the back-light of the Sun overhead. This was not possible.

Nothing else happened. I looked around. I felt the clamp inside my gut, controlling me, my own internal governor. The light breeze had slackened and I noticed that the surface has glassed off to an oily silken sheen, inviting me forward. A swimmer’s version of bubble-wrap waiting to be popped, the water pleading to be pierced by my arms.

Swim, it’s what I do. Just swim in, figure it out later. I’d only been in the water twenty-five minutes or so, I’d passed two-thirds of the distance already. In the ten degree water, I wasn’t more than lightly chilled as I hadn’t stopped until now.  I couldn’t be severely hypothermic, I had none of the signs. Twelve to fifteen minutes swim, and a packet of jelly dinosaurs waiting in the glove compartment. The clamp relaxed just a fraction. Stay calm and swim.

I stroked ahead. Okay, swim in. Don’t think about it. Things happen in your head when you’re alone in the water. Things you don’t tell anyone. Things you will never tell anyone. Things they would never understand.

The water was glorious. I felt the edge, the finest sharpest molecular blade-edge of cold. That perfect feeling that cold water swimmers know, and can’t understand that others don’t appreciate. Like a fire on your skin, like when you have exhaled all your air, you can purse your lips and get that fraction more out. Like a drug or a mystery. Use everything and the cold gives you that tiny bit extra. Take a surgical scalpel, and draw the back of the blade down the inside of your forearm for a hint of that edge of cold.

Under the water the water was green suffused with argent, rich like ripe avocado. I was bathing in glory and brine, swimming in light as well as water. The light poured over me and basted my skin. I could taste the light in the water, in my mouth, like salty caramel. I could hear it. I could hear the golden light. Not with my ears, but with my proprioception. When I lifted my eyes to navigate, the light blasted my goggles and made gemstones of the world, sapphire, onyx, emerald and turquoise. The light cascaded and boiled into my lungs and filled me up. Every sense, new senses, filled with the golden light.

We swimmers know how low twenty metre tall cliffs look from just a kilometre away.  How a coast become flat, every part the same distance away, three-dimensionality lost. We know both how close and how far a kilometre is. A kilometre is a short swim but twice the distance required for a swimmer to become invisible to others on the shore.

The coast closed quickly as I swam. The light gave me a grace I’d never known. I didn’t just cut through the water or slip through the light. I became the water and the golden light. I was water and light swimming in water and light.

But when I reached the coast, when I could finally see under the glare, there were no cliffs. There was no beach.

Golden light through a Copper Coast arch
Golden light

 

Previous part

A Further Shore – I – The Arch

A Further Shore – I – The Arch

Winter reduces my range. I swim at the Guillamenes, along the cliffs and shore of Tramore Bay.  Maybe, just maybe, I might get down to Sandycove for a lap. Days pass when I see no-one, arriving, swimming and leaving without a soul.

Spring comes with almost imperceptibly warming water and air and increase in the number of people. The winds slacken, swim time gradually extends. The rest of the Copper Coast calls out to me, to return and see what the winter has wrought, to find new experiences and new memories.

Burke's Island & reefs, Kilfarassey
Burke’s Island & reefs, Kilfarassey

Kilfarassey and Burke’s Island are always my first Copper Coast spring swim away from Tramore Bay. My playground of the island and reefs sits just a short swim away at high tide, a full circumnavigation of all takes only forty-five minutes, with optional paths around the reefs to lengthen any swim.

There was no-one else around, the tide was dropping and the sky was blue with a few actual white puffy clouds, not the usual grey-bottomed bringers of Atlantic rain usually visible. The water wasn’t quite calm, a light easterly Force Two breeze ruffling the surface and adding a nip to the air as I walked the hundred metres from the car down the slipway, crossed the stream and beach and left my sandals burdened under rocks on the sand. I lined up the zero triangle and minute-hand on my watch to indicate departure time and waded in, then dove into an incoming mushy wave.

The water was about ten degrees Celsius, according to my built-in skin thermometer. The cold shock associated with such a temperature dissipated within a minute or so as I swam out toward the windward east side of the island, stretching out my arms and shoulders.  Within a dozen minutes I’d reached the nearest shark-fin-shaped reef, and instead of a longer circumnavigation around the outside reefs, I turned west across the back of the main island. The water was a clear cool mint and jade in the cross-shore breeze, submarine reefs reaching up, old friends from previous years welcoming me back.

Another few minutes and I passed the main island and reached the inside end of the channel that divides the easterly and westerly reefs.  I was at the east side of the largest reef, a north-south ridge some seventy five metres long and reaching in places up to ten metres above the surface. Populated by birds and guillemots, mostly by Black Shags, who have always vocally disapproved of my unaccustomed irregular appearances, they threw themselves from the reef into the air, wheeling and dive-bombing and screaming their indignation at my arrival in their offshore haven.

I was swimming to The Keyhole, my nickname for the first rock arch I’d ever swum through. It’s an east-west narrow-waisted arch in the ridge, only ten metres long at the water’s surface, with a bare dogleg between the ends. There’s not much of a roof,  cut away as it is to the sides. When conditions are right, the arch, which is too narrow for most kayakers, compresses the flow and a swimmer can shoot through like a fairground water ride.

The easterly breeze wasn’t enough to shoot through at speed but the clear water gave me hope of seeing an anemone clinging to the rocks under the low tide mark, so I decided to swim through without breathing, to extend my underwater investigation.

With head underwater, I cruised west  through the arch, feeling the water flow keep me clear of the harsh sides. The quality of the sub-surface light changed, surely a cloud filtering the light entering the water, transforming it to a rich golden hue.

Under the surface was so crisp, so clear. The sand of the bottom, the encrustations of thousands of generations of barnacles on the rocks, this reef their universe, our air their outer space. The kelps and weeds waved in the backward and forward tidal stream. Ochre, umber, sienna. Jade, olive, phtalo green. Marl and charcoal. A merman’s palette of literal water colours. No fish were visible in the clear water this day, but here was every child’s daydream of swimming in an aquarium’s watery castle. No plastic scuba or treasure diver was required to perfect this idealized underwater scene.

All for me, just here, just now. All this time to see so little and yet so much. Only a double-handful of strokes on one held breath from arch end to end.

You can’t eat scenery, they say in Ireland. I was a child when I first heard that and I still knew they were wrong. Not with your mouth. But you can eat it with your eyes and your mind and your imagination. You can use it to create your soul, to fill your self.

An Analysis Of Open Water Drownings

Any experienced open water swimmer will be, or at least should be familiar with evaluating personal risk on an ongoing basis. (I have written many posts about the Do’s and Don’t’s of open water).

One thing we don’t talk about is drowning, because we put ourselves in the category of people unlikely to join the statistics, just because we are strong, confident and experienced open water swimmers.

In some cases below I can’t separate open water drowning from overall drownings. The IWS report is particularly useful for so doing however.

The Irish Water Safety Association (which promotes open water safety and collates Irish drowning figures and for decades has taught people to swim in open water locations) released a report about drowning rates in open water locations, based on 25 years of data collection up to 2012 (not including 2013 which had higher rates due to an unusually good summer).

The headline figures are startling. An average of 140 people drown every year in Ireland. America’s CDC releases the US figures, and for 2005 to 2009, the annual average is 3,533 (non-boating related). That’s almost 10 per day in the US, of whom two are under 14.

The World Health Organisation places drowning as the third leading cause of unintentional death worldwide, accounting for 7% of all injury related deaths. In 2011, 359,000 people worldwide drowned, 95% of them in poorer countries. As the CDC notes, for every child that drowns, another five receive emergency department treatment, and some will suffer long-term disabilities up to permanent vegetative state.

If you work out per capita rates, you find Ireland is 0.000035% while the US is 0.000013%, almost one-third of Ireland. However the Irish figures do include boating, suicide and fishing industry accidents. The IWS say that the suicide rate figure accounts for one-third to half of the Irish total, so once that’s accounted for the Irish and US accidental drowning figures aren’t that different.

79% of Irish drowning victims are from the local area. One is never more than 100 miles from the sea in Ireland whereas the maximum distance from any sea in the USA is over 1000 miles.

In Ireland 79% of drowning are male, the same as the US.

One of the more surprising statistics from Ireland is where the drownings occur and the figure that prompted me to write this article.

Irish drowing locationsIreland’s relationship with the ship has long been difficult. It is only very recently that we’ve started to embrace our coastal heritage, as traditionally the Irish were extremely wary of the Atlantic, understandable when we take the brunt of the wild Atlantic. We swimmers also know that people here assume the sea is more dangerous.

The locations listed are varied: Lakes, rivers, canals, ponds, quarries, but also bog holes, drains, slurry tanks and reservoirs. We have a weird sport here called Bog Snorkling (yes, it’s worth clicking on that link and yes, I’ve considered it but I hate kick drills) but I’ve not heard of any drowning during this sport. Such drownings are more likely to occur with bog walkers or people footing (cutting & stacking) turf.  Slurry tank deaths are a tragic annual incidence that result when farmers or agricultural workers are overcome by hydrogen sulfide and drown as a consequence).

Inland also includes swimming pools which are less than 1% of drowning as Ireland is too cold for home or outdoor swimming pools to be popular here.

If we look at the breakdown, one noticeable figure stands out.

Irish drowning locations breakdownRivers are three times more likely as a location for drowning than the sea, with lakes, which are often assumed to be safer, almost equal to the sea.

Five counties accounted for 52% of all drownings (Cork, Dublin, Galway, Kerry and Mayo) and the main location in those is rural. As the IWS reports says “while [] rural
drowning presents as principal region in nine counties, the majority of drowning incidents appear to happen in or surrounding urban settlement areas“. County Cork’s river Lee is the highest single location in the figures.

The IWS report also gives a breakdown of the circumstances leading to drowning.

Irish drowning circumstancesSwimming and walking suffered the same level of drowning. If one adds shore angling, more people drown from the shore than from getting into the water. You may recall I wrote a relevant article last year called “There’s no such thing as freak wave, coastal safety is your own responsibility.

You’ve probably heard the old saw that the “strongest swimmers are the ones most likely to drown“. The report says that data on ability is lacking in 42% of cases, 26% are reported as poor and 33% as good, so there is some support for this notion but it’s hardly conclusive.

In contrast, it says that 27% of cases involved some level of intoxication, and maybe a third of those were intentional. In the US, that figure is up to 70%.

All this indicates that the “average” Irish drowning victim is a 42-year-old male, who has drank some alcohol, and is from the local area and the location is more likely to be a river near an urban location.

The average US victim is younger due to an increase in child drownings. Minorities, whether racial or economic, are also more prone to risk.

So what should you do? I tried to come up with a list of things that individual open water swimmers can do outside becoming qualified lifeguards. As swimmers we take absolutely for granted that every child should be taught to swim.

  • As every experienced open water swimmer knows, alcohol should be absolutely avoided. If you see people drinking while around water or looking like they are going to get in, (this happens at the Guillamenes), try to talk them out of swimming. I know how these conversations go, they are not easy. Nonetheless.
  • Use a buddy system. (When you can, most of the time I can’t)
  • If you see small children without an adult, stay on watch yourself until you find their guardian. The figures suggest  that children under 14 should also always be supervised around  water.
  • In your local location, in the absence of signs, flags or lifeguards, communicate any relevant local dangers to others. Wind, wave size, rip currents, tidal currents, exits, submerged rocks, jellyfish, weaver fish etc. I’ve found for example that casual bathers and inexperienced swimmers frequently underestimate wave size and exit difficulty. One problem I occasionally face is that teenagers assume if an “old guy” like me can get in the water, so can they. Even if it’s Force 5 with four metre waves. Be prepared to explain your experience and warn people off.
  • If you don’t have life-saving experience or training, familiarise yourself with some basic techniques, such as throwing lifebuoys or rope, using approaching a drowning victim from behind instead of in front and contacting rescue services. Did you know that 112 is the emergency services number across all of Europe?
  • Be wary at new locations. Be wary at rivers and lakes (hidden obstacles, fast currents, marine craft). Be wary in urban locations.

Related articles

Irish Water Safety 25 year report.

WHO media report on worldwide drowning.

CDC US water injuries, 2005 – 2009.

CDC report on natural water setting drownings.

Swambivalence

wm_Custom House Keystones (6)
Edward Smythe’s God of the River Suir on Dublin’s 18th Century Custom’s House.

I live on the bank of one of Ireland’s longest rivers: The river Suir. At 115 miles length, you’ll appreciate therefore that Ireland is a small country. The river flows through three counties: Tipperary, Kilkenny and Waterford.

The river forms the Tipperary-Waterford border for many miles and features in the most famous Kilkenny ballad. But it is most commonly associated with Tipperary, probably due the rising on the slope of the Devil’s Bit mountain, and the meandering path it takes through the country and flowing through so many Tipperary towns, (Thurles, Cahir, Golden, Clonmel and Carrick-on-Suir).

I’ve lived on its bank on the tidal estuary for over ten years but I’ve never felt any interest in swimming in it. Indeed the first time I ever got into the river was a few months when I went in to rescue my aging dog from drowning.

The Clonmel to Carrick road follows the river and as the river’s cleanliness has improved over the years, and after having crewed and observed on Owen O’Keeffe’s Blackwater river swim the past two years, I finally decided last year that I might as well swim from Clonmel down to Carrick, 21 current-assisted kilometres.

Swim4Good
Swim4Good, just before starting

After a couple of weekends of walking the various sections, due to other conflicts, we didn’t even know if the swim would go ahead until two days before. The swim itself occurred on the Summer Solstice, which proved to be the best day for crew availability, water temperature, and a compliant high tide, which tops out a couple of miles above the town. Though it’s not a true tide but a river backfill from the actual tide lower in the estuary, so it’s not as easy to predict.

I would liked to have been able to do something to raise awareness for the Swim4Good campaign. Swim4Good is a swimming-based project which seeks to use swimming as a social improvement tool. It was started by Mauricio Prieto, Emily Kunze and Susan Moody. In 2013, they raised an astonishing $100,000+ for a glodal literacy campaign. But with the short notice, and our lack of bodies to collect any for charity on the route, and a lack of response from the local radio station, wearing the Swim4Good cap and this paragraph, I’m afraid, is the best I can do for now.

I’m not doing a stroke-by-stroke blog post.  The pertinent information is that I had Owen to observe and document and local Carrick distance open water swimming neophyte Conor Power to guide, each kayaking. Conor, like Owen, loves river swimming and knows the river Suir well. However, the temperature was cooler than expected at just over 13º Celsius for almost the entire swim, and I did feel it drop substantially for a mile past the confluence with the river Anner.

The start in Denis Burke Park in Clonmel (Conor on left, Owen on right)
The start in Denis Burke Park in Clonmel (Conor on left, Owen on right)

We started at 11.17am and I touched down beside some local alcoholics on the slipway at 2:59pm, first person to swim this stretch, in three hours 42 minutes. I’d estimated four to four and half hours of swimming so this was quicker than expected.

Under the first bridge in Clonmel, one of five.
Under the first bridge in Clonmel, one of five.

It felt like I hit every submerged rock between Clonmel and Carrick. There had (surprisingly for Ireland) been no rain for the previous week, and for most of the duration the depth was rarely more than waist deep.

Shooting the rapids just past Sir Thomas's Bridge, rougher than it seems
Shooting the rapids just past Sir Thomas’s Bridge, rougher than it seems

Even with the changing banks, even with faster-than-expected current, even with Dee and the doglet popping up regularly on the bank, even with trying to dodge rocks and even with not succeeding, river swimming is boring. My legs and feet were bruised and cut. I even had a (small) laceration on my upper chest.

 

Ankle deep outside Kilsheelan
Ankle deep outside Kilsheelan

Every time I’d hit a really shallow patch, I’d have to stop kicking. But then my legs would sink and I’d hit the rocks anyway. I had to stand once to walk about three metres across just outside the village of Kilseelan and I had to  bum-shuffle a couple of metres on the other side of Kilsheelan.

The Doglet watches us approaching yet more rocks before Carrick on Suir
The Doglet watches us approaching yet more rocks before Carrick on Suir

I saw five fish, one car registration plate and no shopping trollies. The river and water was clean. I’d entertained thoughts that if it went well, I might run it as a time trial next year, but it’s too shallow to run such an event.

 

Approaching Carrick's old bridge, a few hundred metres from the finish
Approaching Carrick’s old bridge, a few hundred metres from the finish

I feel only ambivalence or even vague embarrassment about the swim. The geographical distance of 21 kilometres with current assistance was probably closer to only 14 kilometres in swimming terms, so quite similar to training swims many will be doing around this time. But my shoulders were very heavy for the last forty minutes and I was happy to get out.

I mostly feel like just shrugging off the swim, and don’t feel I accomplished anything, (which is no reflection of the time and assistance of Conor and Owen). I’ve never swum more than six hours in fresh water, and I still don’t feel that I’d want to extend that time.

Elaine Howley was swimming a 24 hour lake training swim in the US at the same time (plus much more) and reported having a great time. Thus proving indubitably (to me anyway) that fresh water is more likely to promote dementia than salt water.  The sea does not engender similar feelings of ambivalence in me.

A similar duration ocean swim with less to see and less accomplished would be more enjoyable.

The Abyss

I made the image below for my American Channel swimming friend and one of the MSF Rules of Marathon Swimming co-authors  Elaine Howley.

I’ve seen a few articles on coping with open water swimming fears recently, and I though I’d take a contrary and more visual tack.

If you suffer from the open water heebeejeebies, try taking control and instead of trying to swim away from imaginary monsters, try summoning them, so you control them and become the master or mistress.

Whoever battles with monsters had better see that it does not turn him into a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you. – Nietzsche

Both the feet, and more importantly the eye, are my own … Or is it? Open Water swimming fear 2.resizedClick to embiggen. It’s make a nice desktop wallpaper.!

And here’s a video I hope you enjoy. I finally shot something good with David Dammerman’s camera, so thanks David!

I particularly recommend you enjoy what happens about 2:25 and the last few seconds.

Related articles

Open Water fears listed.

Swimming Glendalough Upper Lake

I didn’t significantly increase my list of new swimming locations in 2013  and have decided to rectify that in 2014, hence the recent trip to Kilmore Quay and the following weekend when we visited the valley of Glendalough in the Wicklow mountains.

Glendalough upper lake northIMG_2309.resized

Situated in the Wicklow National Park, Glendalough  is one of the scenic jewels of Ireland and one of the most popular international tourist destinations in the country. It’s the site of one of the most important and beautiful Irish monastic settlements, which was founded in the sixth century.  The name means the glen or valley of the two lakes. The lower lake is only a few hundred metres long and surrounded by reeds, and holds little or no attraction for a swimmer. The Upper Lake is a fraction under one and half kilometres long and enclosed by the steep high tree-covered valley sides, reaching in toward the foot of the river flowing down off the waterfalls at the head of the glacial valley.

East end of the lake through the trees
East end of the lake through the trees

Unlike the lower lake, indeed, like most lakes as far as I am concerned, which I find to be dull, unexciting and uninspiring, Glendalough draws one in and begs to be swum.

I’ve been in Glendalough a few times this year and last and planned to return to swim the lake, so finally one recent dull summer Sunday morning, just two days after swimming in Owen’s Martin Duggan Memorial in the Blackwater in Fermoy, off we set.

As we descended the last few miles as we crossed over the Wicklow Gap mountain pass above the valley the intermittent thunder showers became increasingly heavy and when at mid-day we pulled into the furthest-in car park nearest the Upper Lake, we couldn’t even leave the car for 15 minutes, so heavy was the deluge. At least the thunderstorms would reduce the numbers of tourists willing to walk the mile or so from the main site up to the lake.

And down at the lake edge, there was almost no-one around, despite the thousands of tourist in the locale. (Apparently, much of a recent TV drama series called The Viking is filmed around this end of the lake. This is mildly ironic as the central feature of the Glendalough area is a Round Tower used to protect the monks from Viking attack).

The lake runs eat to west through the  valley, the water black like most Irish mountain lakes and the  steep sides protect it from wind. It’s no more than a couple of hundred metres at the widest part, and gradually tapers westward. It drains via a narrow river in the north-east corner, and there’s a pebble beach that runs along the eastern end for hundred and fifty metres or so with the long  of so metres.

I did quick temperature check (mmm, 13 degrees Celsius, lovely) then changed in the rain, stuffing my clothes into the box and David Dammerman’s camera into my Speedoes. As I put my ear plugs in, the rain stopped and suddenly we could see sunlight pouring over the high southern rim of the valley wall,  down over the trees climbing the sides, and out onto the lake.

Swimming Glendalough
Swimming Glendalough -heading for the west end

Having earlier checked the lake length on Google Earth, I gave Dee my estimated time and strode into thigh deep water before diving in. (Apparently the doglet, who dislikes the sea and waves, hurled himself into the freshwater behind me, but quickly ran out of steam. I really need to put a swim training plan together for him). Two strokes and the bottom suddenly disappeared as I passed over the steep drop off and out into the black water, which those who’ve never swum in lake with peat run-off can find quite intimidating.

Peat run-off in glacial lakes is often black or, as is the case in Glendalough, a rich amber like good Irish whiskey. The amber colour allows a swimmer to see their hands and feet or another nearby swimmer, like a sepia photograph. At four or five metres distance though it swallows light. Beneath is a pitch blackness like you never experience in the sea which will always have tones of green or grey and the sea at night will have some bioluminescence.

A peat lake is a complete unvarying blackness, reaching into the depths under you. Or is the reaching out of the depths toward you?

The Sun had briefly appeared as I dove in, but then slipped in and out of clouds as I progressed down the lake.

I stopped briefly about half way to take a few photos, though few were of value. For someone used to the complete control of a DSLR camera, the restrictions of a point and click, combined with shooting in the water which restricts angle and often coats the lens with water,  means that more often than not I can’t capture things as I would on land. Unfortunately the water and Sun combined forces against me.

West (far) end of lake with river inflow
West (far) end of lake with river inflow

I headed for the far (west) end. As I neared, the trees on the right-hand north bank thinned, and I realised that a path had winded down the length of the lake. The water temperature dropped suddenly by a degree or more but within a dozen strokes I impacted a sand bank that rose from the deep, and I was forced to stand. Later when we walked in the path by the lake, I saw that I’d hit the silt bank that formed around the entrance of the river down from the waterfall into the lake.

It had taken 30 minutes to swim the lake, which was far longer than a 1500 metre swim should have taken, even with a stop, so I guessed I must have read the map incorrectly. A few photos at the turn and I started back.

Scout The Doglet awaits my return
Scout The Doglet awaits my return

As I traveled up the lake, to add to the entertainment, I decided to deliberately try to give myself the heebeejeebies and summoned some of my favourite water monsters  from the pitch blackness beneath for some brief company. The one which I enjoyed the most was just a giant iris and pupil, which filled the lake underneath, visible to none but me, and I just a mote, swimming over the eye.

Soon, the eye have blinked itself back into blackness, I closed in on the eastern departure beach. I had returned in ten minutes less, so despite the calm surface, the very shallow river draining the lake has added a not-insignificant current flowing eastward.

Glendalough is a spectacular location for a short swim that avoids the boring nature of most lakes.

The est end of the lake at the river exit
The est end of the lake at the river exit

Water nightmares

It’s been a while since I posted any nightmare fuel for open water swimmers, so I thought I might collect a few of my favourites together.

We’ll start gently. Close encounter with a humpback.

One from years ago on the blog, the frilled shark, aka dragon shark.

Remember Brutus the giant Australian salt-water crocodile?

916742-brutus-the-monster-croc

A subtle one, what is the super predator?

This one is fairly well known, and you know, a bit of a traditional swimmer’s scare.

 

Remember the conger eels?

A favourite on the Marathon Swimmers Forum, and Game of Thrones, the lamprey, aka the sea vampire.

As anyone who has ever swum into one knows, plastic bags can be surprisingly scary. What if they were alive?

And then of course, there’s this thing, and honestly, I don’t even care what it is.

and then there's this thing lampray eel

If only I could stop there. There’s worse though.

None of these are as scary as approaching the second corner at Sandycove during the annual challenge race, and seeing Finbarr Hedderman reach out to grab you. Sharks, jellyfish, Finbarr, crocodiles and eels, all pale in comparison beside the last nightmare, the one thing that unites open water swimmers in fear.

I’m

putting

it

further

down

this

page

to

protect

those

who

aren’t

ready

or

are

of

a

more

tender

disposition…

These guys:

 

Riptide swimming at Kilmore Quay

Kilmore Quay, in County Wexford, right down in Ireland’s south-east corner, is one of the best known and oldest fishing harbours in the country. The village itself is small, picturesque with many thatched houses, and like the rest of the local coast, very exposed with few trees able to survive the constant onshore winds. West of the village the beach and dunes known as the Wexford Slobs runs for mile to the entrance of Bannow Bay, east the beach runs for a few miles until it reaches the very south-east tip of Ireland at Carnsore Point.

Ireland, as I’ve often written previously, has big tides. And nowhere on the entire coast are those tides as big and strong as they are around Kilmore and Carnsore.

Four kilometres off Kilmore Quay is the little Saltee Island, with the Great Saltee, Ireland’s biggest bird sanctuary’s another four kilometres beyond that, but seeming much closer. The coast therefore is home to a particularly large range of both birds and fish.

In the late 90′s a canoeist named David Walsh wrote a detailed guide book (Oileán, the Irish for island) following his canoe circumnavigation of Ireland, aimed at fellow canoists. I don’t think he had open water swimmers in mind, but when I briefly had a loan of the out-of-print book some years ago, I quickly devoured it. I recall clearly the chapter on the coast around Kilmore and the Saltees when the author-canoist described coastal currents so strong that at the wrong time of the tide, they were impossible to canoe or kayak against.

I had looked the coastal maps and charts for the south-east many times since, and although it’s less than 90 minutes drive, I hadn’t been in Kilmore before.

St. Patrick’s Bridge, a natural rock causeway, reaches out to Little Saltee, and consequently has been the ruin of many a fishing vessel almost at home. Indeed Kilmore Quay has been home port for the many of the most recent fishing tragedies due to the ferocious storms to which the South-east is exposed.

We walked out the eastern most working pier, looking east toward Carnsore. The breeze was easterly, pushing chop into towards the pier and the tiny beach nestled in the corner.  About a kilometre off I could see  a line  of white water looking like it was breaking for no reason, with calmer waters between. I quickly realised this must the fabled but submerged St Patrick’s Bridge, the tide being somewhere around High Water. Just beyond, seemingly about 1.2 kilometers from the beach, was a blunt black rock, a few metres high and wide. It called to me.

Kilmore Beach Craft shop IMG_1633.resized
The craft, which doesn’t have any thatch, probably because it sits right above the beach.

We walked the village, where I asked the proprietors of the flower shop, gift shop and butcher of any knowledge they may have of the inshore waters east of the Quays, especially of any currents. All I gleaned of use was that the rock was called, of course, St. Patrick’s Rock.

I’ve also said  previously, a long time ago, that every field and rock in Ireland has a name. Unfortunately some times those name can be a bit, well, predictable.  Many black coastal rocks are called…Black Rock. Of course if you see a black rock, and call it Black Rock, you need to be sure that it’s already called Black Rock and not Bird Rock, or something! I suppose, unimaginative as it is, St. Patrick’s Rock is an improvement.

Finally I called around to the RNLI station, situated here biggest because the marine fishing traffic and the local conditions, where one gentleman was doing a bit of afternoon work. He said there were no currents inside the St. Patrick’s Bridge. We chatted a little about local water conditions as I picked his brain for further knowledge of any peculiarities.

The Sun was nudging in and out behind clouds, with the gentlest and briefest of occasional showers as I changed into swimming gear on the road fifty metres from the beach. With the easterly breeze running toward me and guessing the distance I gave Dee an estimate  of 35 to 40 minutes,  45 minutes at the outside.

The water was crisp, about 10 degrees and shallow. I aimed straight for the rock. For the swim out, the depth rarely dropped below chest high, with plenty of kelp, and the sea floor liberally dotted with scallop shells from the fishing boats. The Sun dodged and hid.

As I closed on the rock, the bottom rose again, and when I got to about seventy-five metres from the rock, I noticed that suddenly I was shooting forward, the sea floor shooting under me, as it rose to waist deep. I was at the submerged causeway and stood to grab a quick video. When I tried to do so however, I realised that even in thigh deep water, I couldn’t stand in place against the current and was buffeted and then dragged off my feet.

(Yes, I know I say Skelligs instead of Saltees in the video).

Behind me small choppy waves were breaking against the submerged causeway. They were more like standing waves (overfalls)  than waves breaking on a shallow-sloped beach. They were breaking forward, but pulling hard back underneath. Next thing I was pulled over the causeway, and almost before I knew it I was on the far side of the causeway. I tried to get back onto the causeway by swimming into and with the biggest peaks, but I was still pulled back. The water was still shallow so I tried grabbing the underwater rocks to see if I could pull myself forward against the current but was unable to progress.

It was a classic rip or undertow as powerful as the lethal rip at Couminole in Kerry, or trying to swim against the flow of the East River in New York.

Rips are dangerous and every year drown people around the world, because  usually because those who encounter them don’t know what to do. The land or safety seemingly very close, they continue to swim against the flow, exhausting themselves against the pull.

When you encounter a rip, there is one simple solution.

I simply turned in a 90º direction and headed inward along the submerged causeway. As I had swum out diagonally from the beach, I was still only a few hundred metres from shore. A mere hundred metres or so along the causeway and the rip current eased. With a bit of sprinting, I was able to once again swim back across the causeway, and back to my starting point, coming in just over 40 minutes after I’d started.

At lower tides, as St Patrick’s Bridge is more exposed,  it’s possible there will still be a rip running south-east along it.

It was a fun little swim made so mainly by the unexpected challenge which helped to confirm Kilmore’s reputation of extremely strong currents. It’s certainly not a location for the inexperienced or easily panicked. I’d be lying though if I said I didn’t enjoy the frisson of apprehension and the challenge.

The white line of the rip can be seen on the horizon, along with St. Patrick's Rock.
The white line of the rip can be seen on the horizon, along with St. Patrick’s Rock.

 

 

Ice Mile Dilemmas – IX – Safety Is Everything

The Average Person?

As a responsible extreme cold water swimming promoting organisation, it’s frustrating that the IISA doesn’t seem to appreciate its responsibility in promoting safety and reducing risk. The three-article critique on the IISA rules comprehensively illustrate many of the inherent problems, omissions and contradictions. The concerns of my correspondents and myself with Ice Mile swimming are not a reflection of the fact that many of the existing Ice Mile swimmers are extremely capable, experienced and cold-hardened individuals. Instead, we are concerned that the IISA is not doing enough to uphold its own existing rules, and even less to protect the safety of less experienced individuals who may try an Ice Mile in the future.

The IISA can’t wash its hands by saying that people who aren’t experienced enough shouldn’t attempt an Ice Mile. They must have explicit rules about this. The point about safety planning is not to just say “I’ve swum x Ice Miles, you can tooas members of the IISA board are wont to do, but to actually plan.

One should be taking all that cumulative knowledge and experience of such a dangerous pursuit and putting it at the service of the people they are trying to motivate. The IISA currently assumes that everyone who will attempt an Ice Mile will be an experienced cold water swimmer, but it does nothing to ensure this will be the case.

*

A couple of months ago, just mere days after I started writing the fourth part of this series, I received an email from a journalist with Outside Online, the online outlet of Outside magazine, one of the biggest of all adventure or outdoor sports magazines. He wanted to ask some questions for an article he was researching about Ice Mile swimming. I tried to give a pretty comprehensive response to the various questions as I had no idea which part, if any, of my response would be used in the final article, nor did I know with whom else they were talking. One question leaped out at me and I spent a few days deciding how to respond.

What are some insider tips for completing an Ice Mile that the average reader wouldn’t think of?1

That question startled me. It indicates to me that one Ice Mile friend (who I mentioned in the rules aspects of this discussion) who asserted that there’s no rush to swim an Ice Mile may not be correct. It also conveys to me that even a journal like Outside doesn’t comprehend the danger or risk of an Ice Mile. If the IISA doesn’t communicate this, then Outside or many others can’t be blamed. Once a pursuit is featured in Outside, one can guess that the numbers desiring to take on any particular challenge will increase. The Outside Online article is here. (The description of my Ice Mile that opens the article is derived by the article author from my blog article). In my interview I concentrated on the safety and danger aspects. It is now doubly ironic that the other person featured is one of the IISA founders, Ram Barkai.

This is exactly the scenario of which I and so many others are afraid and why the IISA must think ahead and more broadly. The Outside Online article and consequent exposure is likely to be a good thing for the IISA’s desire to increase the Ice Mile profile in their goal to have an Ice Mile included in future winter Olympics (which I think is ridiculous given their current inadequate state). Worryingly this question seems to imply that there might be some trick to completing an Ice Mile, in case “the average reader” might consider it. This question is the thin end of a wedge and has been on my mind almost the entire duration of these articles.

Promoting extreme events should require extreme attention to detail and safety. The CS&PF, SBCSA, CCSA, CSA, ILDSA, ACNEG and more all do so. Even local swim organisations such as Sandycove Island Swimming Club seem to have a greater appreciation for and attention to swimmer safety than the IISA.

The IISA does use a recurring excuse: That they are a very new organisation. But that’s only true to a little extent, and it’s disingenuous camouflage. No resources are required to initiate discussion, as I’ve done. They’ve existed for over five years, and count as members many very experienced cold water swimmers around the world whose cumulative knowledge and experience is quite considerable. It also uses International in its name and must live up to such an appellation, not forget those core objectives that it has espoused and then ignored, as demonstrated previously. The IISA has had more time and resources than I have, and yet with my contacts and a bit of time I can demonstrate the extensive omissions and contradictions in how the IISA operates and also what it endorses. If a section of the IISA membership can illustrate so many problems and if they spoke with me then two pertinent questions must be asked:

  1. What is wrong with the IISA and its communications with members that some members expressed these concerns to me and why is the IISA resistant to engage in discussion with its members?
  2. If some members can point out the problems, contradictions and omissions, why has the IISA failed to so do?

The IISA has it in its own hands to direct its future. It must think far more seriously than it apparently has previously about its stated objectives. Until it places swimmer safety and adherence to rules at its core, its ethos is debatable and its future is and should be at risk.

I honestly believe that the IISA still doesn’t understand this discussion. It’s not just about rules. Sure, where they are wrong or inadequate they must be improved. But the IISA must foster a public face in support of open and shared knowledge and experience that will improve safety for all, ESPECIALLY aspirants and those with less experience.

The IISA says: “The fact that IISA hasn’t got a detailed guideline for every eventuality and possible risk, doesn’t take the responsibility away from the swimmer. It is the individual responsibility to study and understand the risks before one embarks on an attempt in water of 5C to swim a mile. We will help and publish knowledge and experience but we will never be able to avoid stupidity or recklessness through pi[l]e of manuals”.

This is both entirely true and yet diversionary. Swimmers should and must be responsible for themselves, as I have always promoted by trying to share whatever I’ve learned. We learn this responsibility through experience and the teaching of others. But since the IISA places itself as the ratifying organisation it must establish consistent guidelines, to assist in this process of teaching and learning. Once again I repeat, the IISA cannot both promote and ratify Ice Miles, yet ignore the associated responsibility.

I am clear that my concern is less for the tiny few who have already repeated an Ice Mile, but more for those with less experience, and I believe the IISA has been negligent in encouraging Ice Mile swimming without adequate safety or medical guidelines or even a clarification of the actual dangers.

The IISA has relied to date on the aspirants being experienced cold water swimmers, but without taking any steps to ensure such. I am asking; what if the aspirants aren’t experienced?

Recommendations

If we look back over this series one can see that there are a range of possible recommendations, some of which are urgent.

  • Ice Mile swimming should immediately be suspended until the IISA updates its safety rules to place swimmer safety at the centre of its ethos.
  • Swimmer safety to be the core IISA value.
  • People with a history of cardiac problems should be immediately precluded from attempting an Ice Mile.
  • The IISA must publicly update any changes it makes in the future. (Bizarrely, it has told me it doesn’t plan to so do!)
  • Raise the minimum age limit to 18 immediately, pending published expert medical guidelines.
  • All Ice Mile aspirants should be required to first join the IISA. This will ensure better safety, organised swims and better data from attempts, incidents, and data retention for all Ice Mile swims in line with the IISA’s own objectives.
  • All Ice Mile attempts should be pre-approved by the IISA.
  • Aspirants should be required to provide proven experience and references.
  • Publish medical guidelines for aspirants and organisers from hypothermia experts and academics outside the IISA.
  • Aspirants must be required to provide a medical certificate as part of their ratification application.
  • All Ice Mile swim organisers should have relevant cold water experience.
  • Create an IISA committee of experienced Ice Mile swim organisers to codify their Best Practices into an Ice Mile event guideline.
  • Separate the new safety rules in the constitution from the mostly irrelevant articles of incorporation and other matters not related to actual swims.
  • Make the safety rules easily downloadable, with revision dates and change log.
  • Allow any person to submit a swim appeal over a fraudulent swim.
  • Guarantee the confidentiality of any person submitting such an appeal.
  • Initiate and maintaining ongoing discussion by canvassing existing IISA members to discuss and improve rules and guidelines.

Everything Is Okay, Until It Isn’t

I’ve written these articles to:

  • Attempt a serious dissection of the current state of the IISA and Ice Mileing
  • Educate about the difficulty and dangers of Ice Mile swimming
  • Help extreme cold water swimmers
  • Improve the current utterly inadequate IISA rules and communications
  • And as a consequence of all this to improve the IISA
  • And more importantly to try to improve safety for any future Ice Mile Aspirants.

As I have said directly to the IISA:

I think that the lack of appropriate comprehensive guidelines and missing and contradictory rules by the IISA organisation is irresponsible, given it has had five years to learn, analyse and implement improvements”.

To not implement known best practices when lives are at risk and when medical professionals agree is, to use the words of one IISA founding member denying such, “deliberately reckless and careless.

I’d contrast this with Senior CS&PF Pilot Mike Oram, who repeatedly stresses that Channel swimming is an extreme and known lethal sport.

I believe everyone is entitled to make their own choice about their sporting pursuits regardless of danger. But I also believe that they should also have as much information as possible about the dangers and the necessary safety guidelines. A couple of correspondents have raised the comparison of Ice Mile with Himalayan mountain-climbing or Polar expeditions and correctly said that all extreme sports include extreme or even the ultimate risk. While this is true, neither Polar nor Himalayan expeditions came about because of a few people who call themselves the founding, organising and ratifying organisation. When you take on the responsibility to motivate, you should also take on the responsibility to educate and to protect and to do otherwise is wrong.

Since I started this series, members of the IISA have been unhappy with the articles. However , quite tellingly, neither they nor anyone else has said anything to refute the main (or any) points of these articles.

Nothing that I nor any of my correspondents have said here will increase the danger to Ice Mile aspirants, but failing to adapt the current IISA rules to reality will certainly so do.

Thought there are still subjects I couldn’t encompass, (such as the risks involved in training for an Ice Mile), let me finish (finally) with that powerful quotation from a respected Channel and Ice Mile swimmer that I used to open Part 5: “Something terrible is going to happen”.

Is, not might. Time is short, IISA. Act now.

*

Related articles

The list of cold water swimming articles I’ve written over the years.

Ice Mile Dilemmas I – The Trap

Ice Mile Dilemmas II – Surprisingly Cold

Ice Mile Dilemmas III – Black Rain

Ice Mile Dilemmas IV – Local Context

Ice Mile Dilemmas V – Rule 1 – Something Terrible Is Going To Happen

Ice Mile Dilemmas VI – Rules 2 – Safety and Experience

Ice Mile Dilemmas VII – Rules 3 – Failure To Apply Best Practice

Ice Mile Dilemmas VIII – The Dangers

1My full answer to the question was:

There are none. There are no tricks, no shortcuts, no way that doesn’t involve pain. It takes training, understanding and preparation and a rigorous adherence to safety and even then is still difficult and painful and dangerous.

In fact this question shows one of the biggest problems: This is a highly dangerous pursuit and most of the approximately 100 current Ice Milers in the entire world are very experienced. I thought long and hard about answering this. I was faced with a dilemma: answer and possibly encourage what is very dangerous pursuit which may kill you despite preparation or experience, or ignore it and be afraid the macho ideal would win out.

In the near future, less experienced people will try this without the requisite training, experience or confidence in themselves to abandon a swim if necessary. I believe, along with the majority of Ice Milers to whom I’ve spoken, which is about 20% of all Ice Milers, that a tragedy is increasingly a worrying probability. I believe the IISA needs to improve its criteria, safety recommendations and procedures. Attempts need to be more severely curtailed and only done by people who have prior permission from the IISA based on producing a verified training log, recognised experience, who are known to the organisers and have significant medical safety cover”.

Ice Mile Dilemmas – VIII – The Dangers

I’ve said previously that open water swimming is dangerous. Ice Mile swimming is even more dangerous.

I don’t think the IISA website, which is how most people are going to interact with and learn about the IISA or Ice Mile swimming, is anywhere near as comprehensive as it needs to be on its message about the extreme nature of Ice Mile swimming and there are few locations where this message is noticeable. Mostly Ice Mile and extreme cold water swimming is merely described as some variety of difficult, rather than life threatening.

The IISA needs to categorically state that Ice Mile swimming is inherently dangerous and should also do its best to provide a suitable and comprehensive safety framework for Ice Mile aspirants, which as I write this does not currently exist as I have proven in the IISA rules discussion.

Danger, Danger

All this talk of danger but it hasn’t been quantified.

This is a significant list. Some items are extreme versions of similar risks associated with open water swimming, but exaggerated because of the extreme cold. This list has been reviewed by two experts in cold water and hypothermia (one M.D. and one Ph.D.).

  1. Drowning due to involuntary water aspiration. In the first couple of minutes of very cold water, Cold (immersion) Shock can promote hyperventilation and gasping and actually lead people to aspirate water in the lungs, and drown quickly. This is the absolute and essential reason why it is best to get into cold water slowly, to allow your body to control the gasp reflex. Images of swimmers diving into near-zero degree water absolutely send out the wrong message to aspirants. I’ve been writing now for years that people shouldn’t do it. This gasp-aspiration danger exists in all cold water (which in research terms is water under 15 Celsius), but at such cold temperatures as under five degrees the risk is greater. It’s just one of the reasons why experience is so important and why the IISA should immediately introduce prior experience requirements for Ice Mile aspirants.

  2. Initial cardiac arrest. The body’s cold protective system, peripheral vaso-constriction, because it reduces overall blood flow, consequently quickly increases blood pressure. A sudden jump in blood pressure could lead to cardiac arrest in a small number of cases. In younger people this may be caused by sudden-onset ventricular fibrillation. Older people would be more likely to have a myocardial infraction (heart attack) as a result of decreased blood flow to the coronary arteries.

  3. Acute hypothermia. This should be obvious. Acute refers to the time taken for the drop to occur. If lethal temperature is reached in an hour, which is a good rule of thumb for almost freezing waters even for most trained individuals, then being immersed for more than half the time leads to acute hypothermia. Hypothermia takes some time to kill you, it can’t kill you from heat loss in 15 minutes even in these temperatures but kill you it eventually will if you don’t rewarm. Simply standing from the prone swimming position will cause the very cold peripheral blood, which can drop to a mere ten degrees as it lays under your skin, to flow into your core. Another reason the acute aspect is important is because in chronic hypothermia, which develops over a longer time, the body becomes dehydrated, reducing the volume and constitution of blood. In acute hypothermia, since one isn’t dehydrated, the blood pressure increase and therefore associated risk is greater. The onset of acute hypothermia is time based and why time limits are extremely useful in Ice Mile swimming but they are not currently in the IISA rules.

  4. Loss of fine and later coarse motor control/muscle failure. Peripheral vaso-constriction is something I’ve been writing about on LoneSwimmer.com since the site’s inception. It’s how your body protects core temperature by shutting off circulation to the extremities. That means fine motor control is quickly affected. Moderately hypothermic people have real difficulties with or are unable to get dressed. With the extreme cold of Ice Mile swimming, muscle control for such simple tasks as walking can become difficult or impossible. Muscle failure is the term Tipton and Golden, best known for hypothermia studies, use to describe the loss of muscle motive force. One cannot speak, or know what to do. I don’t know numbers (neither does the IISA,) but my experience has shown that most Ice Mile swimmers are unable to dress themselves afterwards. My partner Dee has taken to occasionally calling me The Joker, because of what she describes as the manic rictus manifested on my face as muscle control was lost after my Ice Mile.

  5. Acute Pain. The pain experienced once a swimmer is well into an Ice Mile, particularly in the hands and feet, is significant and sustained, possibly seven on a pain scale. It’s a precursor to number six.

  6. Temporary or permanent nerve damage. Within the community of extreme cold water swimmers there are cases of nerve damage or loss of sensation, particularly in the fingers. This problem can manifest as lasting from a couple of weeks to two years in different people. One medical doctor with whom I’ve spoken, who has direct knowledge in the area of hypothermia primary treatment, says that this is the range from frostnip to frostbite.

  7. Cognition impairment and memory loss. As blood cools, it becomes more viscous. Combined with the aforementioned peripheral vaso-constriction, necessary oxygen flow to the brain is reduced. The person loses speed of thought, ability to verbally respond and their memory is impaired. I can remember the end of my Ice Mile, but as soon as I stood up, everything became hazy and a series of disjointed episodes. One Ice Miler who did their Ice Mile in a group of four, said three out of the four did not remember finishing. This isn’t Hollywood; severely hypothermic people don’t retain the ability to think clearly. It’s why assistants and safety personnel aren’t just important, they are essential. The most common test we use for moderate hypothermia in swimmers is simply someone’s ability to give their own name. Most people with no experience of hypothermia can’t imagine this being a difficulty.

  8. Muscle pains, swelling or bruising, chronic fatigue and lack of concentration. These are symptoms which are displayed after extreme cold water swimming and rewarming. They only show after rewarming is mostly complete or even from the following day and may persist for several days. While some are minor, they are indicative of the extreme effort. The chronic fatigue and lapse in mental acuity are not related to the swim distance but the cold and could have significant immediate impact for swimmers who is driving themselfaway from an Ice Mile swim.

  9. Swimming Induced Pulmonary Edema, aka SIPE. Pulmonary edema occurs when fluid (usually blood) collects in the lungs and breathing is impaired to various degrees of severity. SIPE can be related to heart problems or infection, in the case of extreme cold water, while the mechanism isn’t fully understood, it’s likely that the increased blood pressure mentioned above is implicated.

  10. Cardiac arrhythmias. There are two types. Atrial fibrillation is irregular electrical activity which mainly affects the smaller upper chambers of the heart (atria) causing less blood to be pumped. It may even go unnoticed, or if noticed can result in heart palpitations and shortness of breath. One Irish swimmer who is already an Ice Mile swimmer wisely pulled out early in their second Ice Mile swim because of a sensation of heart palpitations. Ventricular fibrillation is also an irregular electrical activity, which affects the larger lower chambers (ventricles) of the heart. An incorrectly rewarmed person (such as through sudden application of heat or excess movement) will receive the full brunt of the almost ice-cold external blood into their core and around their heart too quickly. This can cause the heart to go into ventricular fibrillation. It is the leading cause of sudden cardiac death (SCD) and is the primary cause of death due to hypothermia. Stories of death through hypothermic ventricular fibrillation abound.

  11. Post-rescue Collapse/Afterdrop. With post-rescue collapse, the person can initially seem to be fine while exiting or after being removed from the water, but may later collapse or even expire. Tipton and Golden1 identify a number of post-rescue collapse deaths. In a study of 269 shipwreck victims, 160 were rescued. 17% rescued from water under 10 C. died within 24 hours of rescue whereas when the water was over 10 C. none died. One of many reported cases is the sinking of the SS Empire Howard. Twelve conscious survivors were rescued. The Captain reported that nine later died when taken into the warmth of the rescue trawler. In Ireland, three of the 15 fatalities during the infamous Fastnet Race disaster in 1979, occurred during rescue in water of 15 to 16 Celsius. The physiology has not fully been explained to date. Two of the all time great marathon swimmers, Ted Erikson and David Yudovin both suffered post-swim cardiac arrest from chronic hypothermia in water that wasn’t as cold, but in which immersion time was longer.

Ice Mile swimming is dangerous and so is post Ice Mile swimming as shown by numbers eight, nine and ten.

Items number nine and ten also portend something else.

Since SIPE, atrial and ventricular fibrillation can also be symptoms of heart disease or other coronary problems, the only acceptable standard that the IISA can set is to require a declaration of medical history and to preclude anyone with any history of coronary problems.

In Part VI, I mentioned that the IISA, which has a stated objective of promoting medical research, doesn’t even include any medical guidelines or medical barriers for an Ice Mile attempt it doesn’t even a require a medical application despite an apparent existing rule. In the light of these specific dangers, this is indefensible and must be addressed immediately.

Related articles:

Ice Mile Dilemmas I – The Trap

Ice Mile Dilemmas II – Surprisingly Cold

Ice Mile Dilemmas III – Black Rain

Ice Mile Dilemmas IV – Local Context

Ice Mile Dilemmas V – Rule 1 – Something Terrible Is Going To Happen

Ice Mile Dilemmas VI – Rules 2 – Safety and Experience

Ice Mile Dilemmas VII – Rules 3 – Failure To Apply Best Practice

References:

1 Review of rescue and immediate post immersion problems, prepared for the UK Health and Safety Executive, by the University of Surrey (Tipton & Golden, 1997)

 

Ice Mile Dilemmas – VII – Failure To Apply Best Practice

Ice Mile Dilemmas – IV – Local context.

Ice Mile Dilemmas – V -  IISA Rules Discussion Part 1. – Something Terrible Is Going To Happen.

Ice Mile Dilemmas – VI - IISA Rules Discussion Part 2. – Safety and Experience.

This is the third and last part of discussion of the IISA rules.

Age Limit

I can’t let this rule (3.3.15) go without question. The minimum age limit for an Ice Mile attempt with parental consent is 16. The only thing I can say about this is that it is irresponsible madness. The only parents I can think competent to judge the difficulty of an Ice Mile attempt for a 16- or 17-year-old child are Ice Mile swimmers. They are the very ones who would almost certainly not consent to such. I have not heard from one single swimmer, doctor or Ice Miler who thinks this is a responsible rule. IISA, please remove this irresponsible rule immediately.

Best Practice

What we can see from the local organisation of Ice Mile swims in the UK, Ireland and the US is that local swimmers and organisers are implementing what each believe is Best Practice for Ice Mile swimming. As one Ice Mile and swimming organiser says: “We should be going above and beyond the IISA rule to make sure someone does not die from inexperience or neglect.Or another who says;the lack of oversight for these events is wholly irresponsible on the part of the IISA and is inviting disaster.

The IISA is the organisation which has promoted Ice Mile swimming worldwide. Currently, responsibility for safety falls more heavily on individual swim organisers rather than swimmers and allows the IISA to abdicate responsibility in ensuring responsible criteria, since as mentioned above that only those who succeed can actually become IISA members. A Channel Aspirant only becomes a Channel Swimmer if they succeed, but they must join the relevant association beforehand. The IISA procedure is hardly normal practice let alone Best Practice. In fact it seems more than just unusual. The current situation means the IISA doesn’t have to retain any data on attempts, success rate, safety data, incidents, accidents or even any possible tragedy.

I am counted as an Ice Mile swimmer though I took two attempts at the required temperature. But the IISA doesn’t measure success rates. This abdication is more than just an oversight. It’s a conscious decision and one that isn’t optimal for safety.

One of the most immediate ways to improve safety and to addresssome of the issues discussed here, would be to require IISA membership for all aspirants.

Given that the IISA promotes the Ice Mile, ignoring the wider aspects of experience, organisation, safety rules and lethal potential and only accepting membership from those who are successful is a significant failure.

Best Practice has been demonstrated by Fergal Somerville, Colin Hill, Greg  O’Connor and some others. They demonstrate that the IISA rules should be such that swimmers must provide a minimum standard of proven experience and competence in very cold open water and should be an IISA member before any Ice Mile attempt is made.

The rules about the organisation of events must be tighter, and the rules that are in place must be rigorous and consistent. As more people attempt an Ice Mile, more will want to try, and the overall experience level will decrease, and as seen above, there are indications this may already be happening.

*

Two of my correspondents disagree with me on this possible increase: One says “I actually have not seen a great rush to do this challenge from other swimmers, I think they realise the scale of the challenge, the obvious risks and the organisational effort to get it right. The other says “There are not many swimmers busting down the doors to do an ice swim.

I believe this is likely true right now. But that does not mean it will remain so, and the IISA itself wishes it to change. In the next article I’ll show something important that seems to confirm my fear. The increase may happen if the IISA promote their new 1K Ice Swim vigorously or if the push for Winter Olympics inclusion become more widespread. Horses and stables doors come to mind.

One correspondent goes on to say:Applying more stringent rules is not the answer, giving people best practice safety statements and swim plans so that they can learn from others would be a good idea. People have no excuses if they have been given examples of how it can be done safely. If they choose to ignore this then they will probably ignore more stringent rules too.

This shows that some of the suggestions I am proposing here may not be agreed. That’s fine. I want the best rules which enhance and aid safety, not my own rules. But I would also strongly advocate both better rules and Best Practice, which would be preferable to poor rules and lack of Best Practice utilisation.

Right now this debate is needed, and a public debate at that, not the behind-closed-doors previous practices of the IISA. The IISA could utilise the existing constitutional provision for a Member’s Meeting to draft better rules. I am arguing for open debate and to include the existing Ice Mile swimmers in the debate for better rules, better adherence to rules, and also Best Practices for qualification and swims. I am hoping others will join the discussion. But the previous quote, despite its disagreement with me on direction, also indicates an implicit similar concern about safety to every response I’ve received.

The extensive problems outlined in the rules, or the lack thereof, and the general agreement of almost all my respondents highlight that this review is necessary.

*

Ice Mile swimming is an extreme sport. As pointed out at the beginning of the article, extreme sports carry significant risk. I am not arguing against such pursuits. I am talking about vital issues intended to minimise the risk and improve safety for individual swimmers in a very marginal and dangerous pursuit.

One response that I’m putting here before I finish this series, is to categorically reject the only response I’ve seen from the IISA since I’ve initiated this discussion. The IISA have implied that I’ve personalised the discussion. Well, duh.

(Granted my name isn’t used, but since I restarted this series suddenly there’s a debate. Other Ice Milers have told me that is exactly what the IISA have said about this series. I’ve not had any direct response from the  IISA, who are always welcome to so do). Apparently without any irony, this is followed shortly thereafter by:

This series proves precisely that the IISA rules and guidelines are lacking, inadequate or even contradictory. As I write here,  I am aware of the many people, cold water and Ice Mile swimmers from whom I’ve heard, indicating support and agreement. Yet I haven’t received a single contradictory message. When the IISA (obliquely) dismisses me for getting personal, they are dismissing the concerns of many more people than just me.

I don’t know any of the IISA founders. The Irish Ice Mile ambassador whom I’ve mentioned (without naming) as indicative of many IISA flaws, has never featured previously on LoneSwimmer.com, and there is no record whatsoever of LoneSwimmer.com pursuing any personal agenda. To accuse me of a personal agenda is to avoid these other serious issues. (And as I’ve pointed out, the IISA has had more than a year to address that specific issue and failed to so do).

The IISA are using this accusation to divert this broader series on the IISA and Ice Mile swimming. To this diversionary accusation which avoids the very real dangers and risks being highlighted, I have only this to say:

Shame on you, IISA.

No sport can have a discussion of problems without exploring just how those problems can manifest in specific situations. UCI similarly used to dismiss discussions of Lance Armstrong and Hein Verbruggen. Any safety discussion now taking place is precisely because I and so many other Ice Mile and cold water swimmers are genuinely concerned, and if the IISA decide to ignore such a discussion that will be their burden and failure, not ours.

This consideration of the flaws of the existing IISA rules isn’t the entirety of this discussion. In the next and penultimate chapter I will discuss the very real dangers of Ice Mile swimming, which the IISA and others should be but aren’t talking about, and which illustrate just why better safety and rules are so critical.

Ice Mile Dilemmas – VI – Safety and Experience

As you will recall from the previous article the IISA says one of its primary objectives is:

Promoting Safety in Extreme Swimming Events.

Let’s consider that.

One overseas organiser of a reputable Ice Mile swim said: “We should be going above and beyond the IISA rule to make sure someone does not die from inexperience or neglect.

For both Lough Dan Invitationals in 2013 and 2014, Eastern Bay Swim Club added some local rules for extra safety:

  • All swimmers had to maintain a training log of cold swims, that may be requested. (In my case at least I did not have to present it, as Fergal and I chatted regularly, which covered my recent swims. I have also maintained a swim log for many years anyway, which includes sea temperatures and immersion time).

  • All swimmers were either known to Fergal or an existing Ice Swimmer who would vouch for them.

  • A clearly marked out course of minimum official length (in this case four 400 metre laps with swimmers required to swim around a buoy at one end and touch a pontoon with a turn judge and timekeeper at the other).

  • A course observer and a touch and timekeeping official.

  • Front crawl only. No treading water, no breaststroke.

  • Present were a Medical Doctor with defibrillator, a nurse and three paramedics.
  • Two time limits:

    • Swimmers had to be on the last lap by thirty minutes.

    • A cutoff time of 40 minutes, or swimmers to be making definite forward progress to the finish.

It’s not just Eastern Bay and Fergal that take extra precautions:

One American Ice Mile swim “follow[s] all of the IISA rules, but we also make sure the swimmers have open water experience and that they have trained (exposing themselves to cold water for increasing amounts of time). We have at least one paid, official EMT present before, during, and after the swims. The EMT has portable defibrillators and emergency transport. We educate swimmers and volunteers on the dangers of hypothermia and what should and should not be done with someone suffering from hypothermia. We have at least one kayak/swimmer as well as rescue swimmers (trained rescue swimmers in wetsuits) shadowing them along the shore. We have a warm room where the swimmers prepare and recover slowly (suffer through the “after drop”). The swimmers also have access to showers, a steam room and a sauna. We have at least 2 IISA members present to officiate and witness the Ice Miles”.

So the Lough Dan rules weren’t just a notional idea by Eastern Bay Swim Club. They came about from experience and lessons learned in previous swims, in personal and other organised cold water swimming events. They are very much in line with the thinking of other Ice Mile organisers, some of whom go even further.

In these cases the local organisers have more comprehensive rules than the IISA.

Taken as a whole these additional rules improved safety and swim integrity; monitoring swimmers, observing both safety and adherence to required distance. The front-crawl-only option works to keep swimmers generating heat and as an indicator of trouble should swimmers switch stroke or stop swimming. Having a time limit with a limited degree of flexibility removed any reason for indecision from safety personnel. The time limit can be adjusted based on organiser’s familiarity with the aspirants.

The original plan for Lough Dan 2014 was nine swimmers and had we not had one no-show, and two swimmers pull out on the day, then we could have had a greater number of severely hypothermic people all finishing within minutes of each other. IISA require one trained medical person per four swimmers. In hindsight, I’m no longer convinced we were right even with our reduced ratio of 8:5. Given my arguments here I will be arguing that if there is a Lough Dan Ice Mile Invitational next year, excepting any change in IISA rules, that the ratio of swimmers to medical personnel be reduced.

These are not the only possible improvements. One correspondent has argued cogently that by Ice Mile standards the large groups in Lough Dan (six and eight swimmers respectively each year) or elsewhere, are by definition dangerous and makes a very persuasive counter-proposal; “when I hear that people think these swims should only be done in big groups, I’m quite baffled! I don’t know that most hospitals have the resources to handle multiple hypothermic patients simultaneously. I also don’t know that eyes are really on the swimmers still in the water when one swimmer begins to need assistance. Having swimmers share safety personnel seems like it is relying on at least some of the swimmers having no problem at all. I’d prefer to have one EMT for each swimmer than to find that there weren’t enough trained professionals to help if multiple swimmers have emergencies.

In my email to my correspondents, I had argued against small group swims precisely because of the questionable swim we witnessed last year.

The argument of individual medical and observing staff is entirely reasonable, and I am now largely convinced, though in part for a different reason to which I will return in a later article.

Is ten swimmers too many? I now believe so. But is one swimmer too little? That’s dependent on the swimmer’s intentions and safety crew’s ability and experience. If the crew are experienced, there is adequate safety cover including the requisite medical support (and the swimmer isn’t planning deceit), then a one swimmer/one medical person swim is likely the optimal situation, though the companionship of others is often significant in sporting achievement.

Taking all this into consideration, despite my own experiences in a larger group, I am far more convinced that a small group is the best way to improve and promote safety both during and post swim. As I’ve said above there are reasons for this to which I will later later in this series.

Here’s another quotation:

I was so worried about [x] as [they] recovered— the leanest of the three swimmers, [x] was in for [n] minutes, and the water was just 3.5 C, with colder air. It was scary— I knew [x] wasn’t in [their] head at all for a solid 20 minutes as [they] shivered uncontrollable and flashed some of the scariest faces I’ve ever seen on a human. Now if I didn’t know [x] as well as I do (we train together all the time, right there in that water, so I had some idea of what to expect with [the] recovery process and was reasonably sure [x] was going to be OK, just having a tough go of it) I would have been frantic.

That’s quite a similar description to how I was after my 2014 Ice Mile. It’s not the only such comment I’ve heard; another told me that my description of black rain was uncannily like their swim. This also highlights another concerns of mine, that the actual difficulty of the Ice Mile is not being communicated.

Over the years, I’ve become convinced that the reputation system (as used in mountain climbing) is vital and fundamental in open water swimming even at short distances. It is up to everyone to build their own experience incrementally. The more you swim, the more you build reputation and a network of contacts, and reputation is literally priceless in open water swimming. There are circumstances where no money in the world should allow an inexperienced swimmer to tackle something beyond their capability.

I would never support an unknown swimmer who just showed up to do an Ice Mile. My email correspondence shows that this actual situation has already arisen at least twice, at two different organised Ice Mile swims, and that’s just with the people to whom I’ve spoken. In both cases unknown swimmers showed up wanting to swim, one even insisting they be allowed to participate. Both were refused but those people who refused were very experienced. In one case the Ice Mile swim was in question because the participants had decided to cancel if the unknown arrival had decided to continue. What would happen if an organiser hadn’t similar experience and judgement?

Any completely untrained and inexperienced swimmer can organise an Ice Mile so long as they adhere to the basic criteria. This may have been deemed valid (though I would disagree there also) when trying to build a coterie of Ice Mile swimmers but given the number of experienced cold water swimmers worldwide, and especially in the countries where Ice Miles are more likely, it should be possible to organise a network of knowledgeable and reputable individuals. However this may be just my small country provincialism speaking. As one correspondent says: “For [ ], which is a huge area, we have just 1 ambassador. If [they have] to be present at every swim and answer every request for information about swims, that’s a big burden.” Many Ice Mile swimmers are not doing so to have such a burden imposed on them: “its something I would not do myself.This may be a difficult problem to address, but the solution isn’t to ignore the problem.

I believe all these problems and shortfalls demonstrate the IISA’s failure to promote safety in extreme swimming events, one of their own primary objectives.

No Experience Required

One of, if not the single most agreed concern amongst all my correspondents is that the IISA has no guidelines or rules for training, or requirements for prior experience, or entry criteria and little about organisation of swims.

Organisers’ use of an Invitational system based on training buddies and logs and local reputation is one, but not the only solution.

Another solution and which was suggested by a few of my correspondents, is pre-clearance of Ice Mile attempts by either the IISA itself or a country or regional IISA Ambassador or a committee of Ice Mile swimmers. A person wishing to attempt an Ice Mile would have to submit an application, a medical certificate with ECG, including any previous or family history of cardiac problems, experience and possibly even training logs. I have in the past been critical of triathlons for substituting wetsuits for experience. The mortality rate in US triathlons is quite significant, twice as dangerous as marathons, with 30 out of 43 occurring during the swim leg. After a study one of the significant factors identified was a lack of previous experience. Here in Ireland open water swims of only 1500 metres often require prior experience. An Ice Mile that’s significantly more dangerous than a 750 metre triathlon swim leg or a 1500 metre open water swim currently requires no approval or proven experience beyond what local organisers may impose. Right now only those who complete an Ice Miles can become IISA members, which is contrary to how most organisations operate and allows the ISSA a deniability about its own place in promoting responsible attempts. It also means that any problems that arise in an attempt don’t fall at the feet of the IISA.

A person can currently attempt an Ice Mile without ever having swum in water colder than a hot bath or further than their local pool length. That’s the reductio ad absurdum conclusion used to demonstrate the insufficiency of the IISA rules. The primary protection for people right now is the organisation and experience of most aspirants, and insistence on safety by experienced swim organisers.

One organiser says it clearly; “I feel ice/winter swimming is a specialist pursuit; only to be attempted by those who diligently prepare through regular submersion in open water and acclimatisation over a number of months.

There are further possible solutions including an IISA-approved qualifying swim. The IISA has this year introduced a one kilometre swim. Currently this uses the same safety rules, but doesn’t result in IISA membership. A one kilometre organised swim would allow the possibility of a vetted and observed qualification swim. Yet another possibility is that Ice Miles are only attempted using a network of experienced local organisers.

*

In the next article, which will be final part of this rules discussion as I move to other aspects, I’ll look at  some more serious flaws in current IISA rules,  briefly consider the ridiculous age limit, and ask why the IISA doesn’t require Best Practice in Ice Mile swim organisation.

Ice Mile Dilemmas – V – Something Terrible Is Going To Happen

I’m with you in fearing that something terrible is going to happen, and it’s going to happen soon.

This is a direct quote from a well-known and respected Ice Mile and Channel swimmer in response to my own similar assertion in my introductory email. I’m putting it up front so you understand exactly the concerns of some of us. And it’s not the only such, I’ve got others. Another example from a different overseas Ice Mile organiser:

You are correct in thinking that at some point someone will [succumb] during or just after an ice swim. Just as important this person qualifies this statement; “as [x] mentioned it happens eventually in any extreme event”.

I’m writing this series for reasons I’ve outlined previously. When I said I wanted to write about Ice Mile swimming, it was because I am concerned that a tragedy will occur, sooner rather than later, and that if I said nothing, I would feel guilty. We all need to be doing our best to reduce potential problems in what is a very extreme event, which individuals have the choice and right to attempt.

I also said such in my initial email to the range of correspondents quoted here. It’s why I continued to complete an Ice Mile when I had lost any particular personal desire to so do. I am not great at anything, but for well over four years I have committed to writing abut cold water swimming. Anyone who doubts my motivations can see the extensive range of cold water swimming articles on this site. I have tried to explain the challenges, inspire people with the joys and rewards, add a bit of humour but also educate about the various dangers.

This rules section has became a hydra, growing beyond what I intended.

Because it’s the best article on the necessity for rules and the thinking of open water swimmers, though it applies to marathon swimming, I’m going to point you to Sarah Thomas’s article on MSF, so important we’ve given it a permanent page of its own. Rules are not just important, but essential. They are the flag to which disparate athletes of differing talents and motivations can all salute. They define, protect and unify.

*

A read of the IISA website is essential for any discussion of Ice Mile swimming rules.

The IISA Constitution

The IISA website has a short menu page for rules which further references the IISA Constitution page for the full details.

The Constitution is contained in an embedded Scribd.com document  (Scridb is a document hosting website). This is unusual for something intended to be public. It means that an aspirant or organiser can’t download the contents for reference. It also means that it’s clumsy to read and navigate. Further, for these articles, I couldn’t copy and paste, as Scribd document contents are flash objects, not text, and so can’t be copied, requiring screen captures. This moves the Constitution away from being an open, easy-to-use document into a restricted  document.

The Constitution is without any changelog, revision or edit dates. So there’s no way to know when or if it’s changed, nor what amendments may have been made. One can contrast this with the Marathon Swimmers Federation rules and how we have released a version history  and change data in the process.

Section 3.3 sets out the criteria and rules for an Ice Mile. Matters such as distance, temperature measurement procedures, equipment allowed, etc. It’s all pretty straightforward.

Much of the constitution is given over to incorporation details and definitions that aren’t relevant to this discussion.

IISA Main Objectives

The Constitution also lays out a number of interesting objectives. It is best to investigate the rules through the IISA’s own stated objectives. Unfortunately, due to the aforementioned Scribd problem, I can’t copy those over here. It’s section 3.1 and I will include relevant captures throughout.

Briefly the first three, which I address below, are;

  • To promote Ice Mile swimming

  • Provide recognition of Ice Mile swims

  • To promote safety in extreme swimming events (emphasis mine).

Along with these are two others which particularly interest me, (emphasis mine again);

  • Promote medical research on cold water swimming

  • Promote knowledge and understanding of swimming in ice and cold waters

IISA Constitution Objectives

Promotion and Recognition by the IISA

With respect to Ice Mile swimming promotion, I’ll refer to the retention of a current Irish Ice Mile Ambassador whose primary promotion efforts have been self-promotion rather than supportive of Irish Ice Mile swimming. (This assertion has also been made to me about the IISA itself in my correspondence, by more than one person).

Recognition of an accredited Ice Mile swim should be straightforward. On completion of a swim, having paid the fee and provided the necessary documentation and data, certification should be released. Since Eastern Bay Swim Club handled this last year and I didn’t complete the swim, and I haven’t yet received mine from this year, I don’t know how it relates to the Irish swimmers. However I can attest that in my email communications with overseas Ice Milers, two different Ice Mile swimmers in the US felt very aggrieved about their communications with the IISA: “When I got my certificate, not only did it look like it had been filled in by a 7 year old, it was mangled, because whomever slammed it in the post hadn’t bothered to put any cardboard around it.

There were other comments such as “hours of my life I can never get back” and more disturbing; “several of us in the USA get the feeling that the IISA is mostly concerned about the IISA membership fee“. Using the word several could be interpreted as exaggeration, except the number of Ice Miles is so low that most are completed in just a few locations. In this case the person making that assertion is highly reputable and involved with running one of the US Ice Mile swims, and does in fact know many of the others Ice Mile swimmers.

This Ice Mile swimming rules discussion requires three parts. In the next part I’ll look at the IISA’s key stated objective of promoting safety in extreme open water and how it significantly currently fails to meet that objective.

Related articles

Ice Mile Dilemmas Part I – The Trap

Part II – Surprisingly Cold

Part III – Black Rain

Part IV – Local Context

Ice Mile Dilemmas – IV – Local Context

An Ice Mile is a one mile (1610 metres) swim at or under 5.0º Celsius with standard swim costume, cap and goggles. Records to early March 2014 indicate 116 recognised Ice Mile swims, with only about 80 Ice Mile swimmers worldwide.

In the context of these small numbers this continuation of the earlier series can be interpreted, depending on your viewpoint, as either:

A) A lot of noise about nothing.

or

B) An attempt to address some serious matters … before it is too late.

_____________________________________________________________

In the first part of my 2014 Ice Mile series, I had two primary motivations for returning to complete the swim, one of which was that only having completed it would I feel free to speak about Ice Mile swimming and its dangers and some associated problems.

Since the swim I’ve had a brief email discussion with the IISA (International Ice Swimming Association). I’ve also contacted about twenty Ice Mile swimmers around the world to canvas their opinions. I’ve also been in contact with three four different medical doctors, three of whom are open water swimmers. All the very thoughtful and cogent responses I received have helped shape this series and I am very appreciative of the time and effort that went into everyone’s replies.  You all know who you are and have my gratitude.

I’ve held back on completing this series until I’d received sufficient feedback, had time to ruminate and until I was sure my swim was recognised (Ice Swim Number 109, which makes me, I think, Ice Mile swimmer 75, or something).

InternationalIceSwimmingAssociation_logo

Let’s start with a recap. In 2013, at Fergal Somervilles’s first NIce Mile, we did not get the requisite 5º C. temperature. but along with five others, I finished the mile and suffered moderate hypothermia (a reminder that moderate hypothermia isn’t moderate but very pronounced). A sixth swimmer didn’t finish and was pulled from the water with  severe hypothermia.

A couple of weeks later, I swam half a mile at Fergal’s second Invitational Ice swim at Lough Dan. On the day I realised I did not have the full mile in me and only swam half the distance. I’ve never felt bad about not completing, it was the right thing to do.

In February 2014 I completed an Ice Mile with six others from a starting group of eight. Two pulled out themselves on safety grounds. I suffered worse hypothermia than I ever have previously. From my previous (significant) cold water experience I expected this outcome and forewarned one trusted safety paramedic.

*

For the past couple of years I’ve had quite a few discussions with experienced swimming friends about the Ice Mile. Many excellent open and cold water distance swimmers have no desire to attempt the swim as many consider it either unnecessary or too dangerous. It’s the case from those discussions and the aforementioned emails that many, including multiple Ice  Mile swimmers, are of a similar opinion about the danger.

I’m going to address a number of different subjects in the latter parts of this series:

  • The Irish context
  • A discussion of the IISA’s rules
  • The IISA’s (lack of) messaging about the dangers of Ice Mile swimming
  • The inherent extreme danger of Ice Mile swimming
  • I will also, (as I did with my MIMS 2013 coverage), not just rant but I will try to make some useful recommendations.

The entire subject is a bit disjointed so I will first give some local contextual explanation for some of this:

The Irish Context

Ireland has a significant number of those who have completed an official Ice Mile. (I am only talking about official Ice Miles. People stupid enough to try to do this without sufficient experience, safety and planning are beyond any reason and what I write will have no effect on them).

I mentioned above that on the first attempt one person wasn’t successful, any more than I was. On the first Lough Dan Invitational that same person wasn’t part of the group. I was invited but I was not capable on the day. Some doubt exists as to why the other swimmer wasn’t part of the first Lough Dan Invitational.

However, on the morning of the first Ice Mile Invitational, I and many others were witness to the most dangerous swim attempt I’ve yet seen.

That same person attempted an Ice Mile without any medical cover of which I’m aware, and insufficient and inexperienced safety cover. At one point the swimmer, having been in the water well over 40 minutes and a significant time from finishing, progressed no more than five metres in five minutes. It was easy to judge because it was two sides of a stationary pontoon only about ten metres away from where I was standing. Four Channel swimmers at least, (myself, Fergal, Tom Healy and Colm Breathnach) were all standing shouting on the beach to the two-man kayak crew to pull the swimmer). No course was marked, no paramedics were available, there was no way to determine if the distance had been swum. Indeed the swim stopped short of the distance where the people on the beach had shouting was the aim. There were major discrepancies with reported start and completion times in various formats with team members claiming a different (later) start time than what one of our group had witnessed.

I don’t believe that the swim was completed or successful.

The International Ice Swimming Association had (until recently) two Ambassadors for Ireland. One is Anne-Marie Ward, English and North Channel solo,  for whom there is widespread respect and genuine warmth in the Irish open water swimming community.

Yet public online congratulations were given that day from the second IISA Irish Ambassador for what I consider to be an at best questionable swim. Those who were actually successful with a marked course and full safety procedures and observation (Colm Breathnach, Fergal Somerville, Patrick Corkery, John Daly, Carmel Collins) were completely ignored by that same IISA “Ambassador“, a pattern that has since been repeated for other swimmers.

Only a  few weeks earlier, that same IISA Ambassador was evacuated by helicopter from a mountain lake in Kerry after very poor planning of their own ice Mile swim, pulling essential coastal rescue services away to cater for reckless safety planning.

Both swimmers now claim they are Ireland’s best Ice Mile swimmers. Without any irony.

Fraudulent swim claims, rampant egos and poor safety planning are the bane of open water swimming. It seems Ice Mileing in its youth suffers the same problems.

These two swims contrasted with the superlative planning by Fergal and Eastern Bay Swim Club, which included three paramedics, a nurse and a Doctor, multiple kayakers and a boat, and almost five non-swimmers to every swimmer,  had a significant if unpublished effect on the many of the Irish cold water swimmers and all present at the Lough Dan Invitational that day.

The IISA seemed uncaring about both negative events. I say seemed because I can’t be 100% certain. What I do know is the IISA are aware of both swims but did not react. Having being unsuccessful, I was not a member and had no communication with them in 2013, but I do know they were notified of this event in 2013 and invited to ask any of the affidavit signatories for their report. The IISA declined.

When I wrote in Part One of my own reason for completing the Ice Mile in 2014, it was in part because of these two swims.

One minor item I didn’t mention until now about my own 2014 swim occurred as I was swimming into the beach after finishing the 1600m. I was still compos mentis at that point, before I stood up and crashed into severe hypothermia, I recall thinking “I’ll call my blog post on this: Ireland’s worst Ice Miler” about myself. I also recall immediately dismissing that idea, because while I may not have done it easily, still I did do it, with plenty of witnesses. I knew I wasn’t the worst, if such a term can be used to describe fully completing such  a difficult challenge: I’d swam the full distance after having previously deciding to abandon a swim, and I hadn’t been MedEvaced.

The more years of writing on open water swimming I’ve been doing the greater the problem of frauds and ego now seems to me. Years of swimming  lone, seeing and participating in many various swims have  given me an acute sense of the requirement for a commitment to safety in both words and deeds.

In my emails with the IISA following my successful 2014 swim, I decided to nominate Fergal Somerville as an Ice Mile Ambassador for Ireland. I clearly implied that the number of Irish Ambassadors should stay at two people with Anne-Marie Ward continuing in the role alongside Fergal. Fergal has organised both Lough Dan Invitational Ice Miles and therefore has done more for Ice Mile swimming in Ireland than everyone else in Ireland combined. He has, along  with Eastern Bay Swimming Club and all the people involved, run a very safety conscious and well-managed event. He is good for the IISA and the serious nature of the pursuit of Ice Mile swimming.

An Ambassador means a representative. The role implies attributes of respect, diplomacy, honesty and trustworthiness. Fergal, the record-setter for the coldest ever North Channel solo, has certainly demonstrated his qualifications for this role. An Ambassador shouldn’t be a divisive figure or someone who treats others with disrespect and consequently brings the organisation they are representing into disrepute. But this is exactly what has happened

However, since I wrote the above paragraph, I’m certainly pleased to hear that Fergal has just been added as an Ice Mile Ambassador for Ireland and I congratulate the IISA on their willingness to listen. However Ireland now has three Ice Mile Ambassadors. That the IISA continues to retain someone of questionable commitment to safety planning or to the IISA itself, or who demonstrates a noted lack of support for Irish Mile Ice swimmers, is lamentable at best.

In the next part I’ll once start a comprehensive critique of the IISA’s rules and stated commitment to swimmer safety through existing rules.

Edit: In my emails to the IISA I also mentioned I’d be writing about Ice Mile swimming and about some negative aspects. I’d said that it wasn’t my intention wasn’t anything negative about the the IISA. Since then however I’ve had a lot of time to reflect and to discuss with others, and to look at the wider aspects of Ice Mile swimming. This series now does include negative aspects of the IISA and Ice Mile swimming. I believe very strongly that  the IISA’s current rules are insufficient and could possibly lead to tragedy.

The Crowded Oceans: Swimming with Spirits

It is unsurprising that primitive peoples, faced with a world whose range and patterns they couldn’t comprehend or predict, imbued all aspects thereof with a supernatural aspect.

Before the development of monotheism, the belief in a single god, often traced to Egyptian Pharoah Akhenaten in the Fourteenth Century B.C., that desire to invest every natural force or occurrence with a mysterious and superior and even willful personality led to pantheons of gods both large and small.

The bigger the personal import of an aspect of nature, the world or even Universe on the lives on humans, the more likely that aspect was to reign high in each pantheon. Beyond and literally above all was the Sun, immediate, live-giving and over all. But across peoples of the coasts, Sea-Gods also loomed large.

While modern humans seem to retain much of the superstition of yore but in different forms (lotteries, miracles, luck, UFOs), outside specific polytheistic religions such as Shintoism or Hinduism, and following the Enlightenment with a growing understanding of the mechanisms of the world, we’ve slowly lost that personification of nature’s forces.

Open water swimmers get very close to Sea and one of the greatest and most widespread of those anthropomorphisations of nature, applying human nature to something not human , is the water deity or the Sea God. Many of the pantheons had multiple water deities of different aspects of water, from springs through storms and rain, to the ocean, far too many to itemise here.

Neptune, the classic sea god image
Neptune, the classical sea god image

The Greek and Roman pantheons are most familiar to western cultures. Rome’s god of both the Sea and freshwater was Neptune. The Greek pantheon equivalent was Poseidon. Both are similarly depicted as powerful men who carry a trident. Unlike Neptune, Poseidon’s domain was more exclusively the Ocean. Like all gods of the seas, both are powerful, and mercurial. Quick to anger, and also capable of unexpected mercy in extremis. Both must be placated to ensure safe passage but such appeasement could never be completely effective of course…

Oceanus
Oceanus

The Greek water deities were very many and due to the use on Greek root words, many still reside with us in our language.

Of the most important or memorable were: Cymopoleia, goddess of giant storm waves: Aegæon, god of storms, cognate with the Aegaen Sea: The Gorgons, malevolent sea spirits, of whom we best know the Gorgon Medusa of the stone gaze, and the Harpies, sea-spirits of sudden wind: The Hippocampi, the elemental horses of the sea: the Nymphs, of whom the Nereides (not the Naiades) were the sea spirits: the Sirens, whose call epitomises the call and hold of the Sea over many of us: Proteus, the Old Man of the Sea: Triton, son and Herald of Poseidon. Thalassa, primordial goddess of the sea, now fittingly part of our name for the primordial sea, Panthalassia. And of course the monsters Scylla and Charybdis, the “rock and a hard place” of modern idiom. And finally, Oceanus, son of Uranus and Gaia, Titan and god of the river that encircled the earth, from whom we derive Ocean.

Water deities flood our world.

Mesopotamia had many, of whom the two with whom we are most familiar through mythology are  Enki, god of water, who appears in some of the oldest surviving myths, and Tiamat, mother goddess of all the gods, saltwater and chaos, who name has been appropriated by pop culture stories.

In Indian Vedic religion, Varuna is god of water and in Hindu god of all forms of water, of the ocean and also of the Celestial Ocean.

The sea of night, the ocean of stars. The boundless limits of the world’s seas mirrored in the sky.

In Shinto, Suijin the Water God is the benevolent deity of water while Susanoo-no-Mikoto is the god of storms and of the sea.

In Mãori religion, Tangaroa is god of the Sea, one of the great gods, and son of Sea and Sky. Like Oceanus, Tangaroa was son of Gaia and Uranus, also gods of  Earth and Sky.

The ocean, born of the earth and of the sky. Interesting that idea should repeat around the world.

Celtic triskele, symbol of Manannan
Celtic triskele, symbol of Manannan

Irish  mythology is the most extant oral mythology in the world outside Greek. The main Irish sea gods were Lir and his son Manannán. Lir actually means Sea in old Irish but he is himself obscure in tales, more a distant figure. Manannán Mac Lir, i.e. Manannán son of Lir, is the more familiar, but as with others of the pre-Christian pantheon, and unlike many of the other pantheons, is more a heroic figure, like a hero-sailor, than an avatar of the sea. Manannán rides Aonbharr, his white horse of the sea, his boat is called wave-sweeper or foam-rider and it needs no sails or oars, to Manannán the sea was as land. His symbol, the triskele, represents along life, death and afterlife; the intersection of Earth, Sea and Sky.

In Scandanavian lore, Aegir was the lord of the endless sea. With his wife the sea-goddess Ran, they had nine daughters, the Billow or Wave Maidens, all named for different types of waves. I mourn the loss of this poetic conceit. I’m not a scholar, but in anything I’ve read of the Scandanavian mythologies of the Nine Maidens, I see little evidence that those doing the interpretation of names really knew the sea. The Maidens were:

Bylgja; Billow. I imagine this as representing a sea with groundswell, the long period undulations hiding a power that catches all those unaware of the real nature of the sea.

I - Swell.resized
Bylgja?

Blóðughadda: Bloody Hair, apparently representing the blood in the sea after a battle. I imagine also an encounter with Finbarr at Sandycove’s Second Corner reef brings Blóðughadda. I also wonder if it could have referred more simply to a Red Tide, a sudden growth of plankton.
Dröfn; Comber or Foaming Sea. Comber is just another name for wave. The most common wave shape is either crumbly onshore or groomed offshore depending on prevailing wind type so the original meaning may have referred to one of those.
Hefring: Riser. A waves that rises has usually hit a reef. Surfers call it a jacking wave. Hefring should be the Maiden of Surfers.
HiminglævaThat through which one can see the heaven. Almost Celtic in its long description which imparts little. I image this is the water of no wind, the flat calm of a stationary high pressure, it reflects the sky and invites a sea swimmer like little else. Oh, Himinglaeva, you temptress.
Hrönn: Welling Wave. Groundswell waves on a steeply rising beach? So much fun, so enchanting.
Dúfa: The Pitching One. What I’d call a scending wave, what others might call a pitching wave.
Uðr: Frothing Wave. A frothing wave has lost most of its power. The water ours over the falls, it’s chaotic but weakened. It is fun, but never to be dismissed.
Kólga: The Cold One. The dangerous one, I think. The one we European winter swimmers know too well. If I had a boat, I’d name her Kólga.

Source: http://ture-e.deviantart.com/art/Caraca-sea-monster-110000025

The oceans not being sufficiently populated, there are other old and new mythological water spirits, demons, and beasties who are not deities but who populate our imagination and our seas: Leviathan. Hydra. Moby Dick. The Kraken and the Aranc. The Midgard Serpent. Cthulhu and Dagon. The Bloop. Godzilla. Davy Jones. Jaws. The Peist. We will invent more.

All these and more. Gods and spirits and monsters and stories, ancient and modern.

We fill the waters, trying to measure our imagination against the raw power and untouchable vastness of the seas. It’s a crowded ocean.

Peist from John Speed's 1611 map of Ireland
Peist from John Speed’s 1611 map of Ireland

Related articles

Creeped out on the Waterford Coast

Here Be Map Monsters

 

 

 

Review: Is this the ultimate open water swimmer’s beer?

Craft beers are the thing, right? Local, interesting, more flavour, more fun. One of humanity’s oldest craft’s giving the blandness of the global industrial homogenisation of food and taste a hopeful poke in the eye.

One of the better things of living in Ireland, because of the country’s still large agricultural sector, is our access to local fresh food of extremely high quality. (America, I’ve had your bacon. It’s a pale imitation of our rashers).

As a country with a proud and long tradition of making, and a not-so-proud tradition of consuming alcohol, we nevertheless suffered in the twentieth century a reduction Irish-made spirits and beers. A desperate attempt to maximise revenues coupled with a ban on selling into Commonwealth countries reduced the once proud Irish whiskey tradition to a few brands. Prior to World War II Irish whiskey was the actually the world’s most popular spirit, before being over taken by Scottish whisky. (Though Irish whiskey is once again the fastest growing).

The brewing industry in Ireland was also large and also contracted hugely over the Twentieth century though not quite as much as the distilleries. Bushmills Distillery remains the world’s oldest operating distillery, and of course Guinness stout is globally known.

Dungarvan Brewing Co

copper_bigLocal micro-breweries started to open in the 1990s, and in 2010 local brewing company The Dungarvan Brewing Company began operation. Unfortunately I didn’t discover their beers until last year, but once I did I sought out and tried them. For blog research purposes.

The various beers, different types of stouts and pale and Irish red ales  are named after local geographical features such as Comeragh Challenger, Mahon Falls, some after my swimming locations, Helvick Gold and Copper Coast, and the notorious Black Rock, the swim out to which has eluded me for a few years. Not because of the distance or the water, but because it’s in the middle of Dungarvan Bay navigation channel. All are excellent. Black Rock stout, Copper Coast red ale, and Helvick Gold blond ale are the three main beers, with the others being seasonal.

I particularly like Copper Coast, an Irish Red Ale, but maybe more than most people some of that pleasure derives from swallowing more of the Copper Coast. Something I’m sure I’ve already done more than others.

But one, like the Black Rock in the bay eluded me, the only one not named after a local feature: Their winter beer, Coffee and Oatmeal.

Just the name: Coffee and Oatmeal. Two essential ingredients of breakfast for any long swim. How could an open water swimmer not be intrigued?

I was trying to find it in off-licenses, before we finally just did what we should have done originally; I asked Clare. Clare Morrissey is the person who inveigled me into open water swimming, was on my Channel crew, and is an all-round experienced sportswoman; solo sailor, Channel relay swimmer, scuba diver and national level rower. Thus we finally settled down in The Moorings pub in Dungarvan with Clare to enjoy a pint of Coffee and Oatmeal.

Coffee and Oatmeal stout Dungarvan Brewing Company IMG_0861.resized
Stout on the bar, the glow of the wood, the babble of the craic, telling stories until my voice started to croak.

The first taste reminded me of the old Guinness pint bottle stout. Not the stout of cans with widgets, nor the extra cold stout of modern draught (draft for those of you overseas) or even small bottles. No, it’s like the single stout bottle my Grandfather used to drink a week, when I was sent up town “to do the messages“, and sent to procure a single bottle, in a small town where it was fine to sell alcohol to a ten year-old. The bottle “with the shoulders“, as it was described, or more commonly a large bottle.”I’ll have a large bottle please“, meant only one thing.  The bottle sometimes drank at home or at a wake. Not refrigerated. With a small head, and an intense taste, very different from draught Guinness stout, to which people will unfortunately compare any stout.

Dungarvan Brewing Company’s Coffee and Oatmeal has a slightly initially slightly gassy taste. It has bundles of taste and is huge in the mouth, with a big flavour. The gassiness passes and you taste the smooth richness of the oats. (By the way, the oats come from Flahavan’s, a local well-known Irish local company producing oatmeal for over 200 years). As you swallow the full oat taste is joined by  the coffee flavour, and then as you swallow you experience a slight chocolate aftertaste. It’s super. It’s a luxurious, even adult, stout, if that’s not an oxymoron, that harkens back to the great days of Irish stout brewing. It was this taste that summoned the reminiscences of my grandfather, an Irish version of Proust’s A La Recherche Du Temps Perdu and his famous madelaines,

This is far beyond the generic stout that even Guinness now produce.

Stout. Oatmeal, Coffee. Chocolate. What more could a swimmer want?

Now you may say that it’s elusiveness is a negative. But that just means that like my beloved Copper Coast, it’s here for me to enjoy.

You’ll just have to visit.

 

Review: Finis Tempo Trainer Pro

Finis Tempo TrainerThe Finis Tempo Trainer, the original (and still available  in some outlets) model, was another interesting idea from Finis that, as usual with said company’s electronics, wasn’t particularly well executed.

I first bought one back in 2008 or ’09. It’s most obvious flaw was that you couldn’t replace the battery. So it was random luck when you bought one just how long it would last. If it was sitting in a shelf for six months, your use was shortened commensurately. To illustrate, my second unit lasted only three months. And since I only used it irregularly, this represented a poor investment so I didn’t buy a third. The case was heat sealed, and while I’m a tinkerer (model-maker) who likes to try to fix things that aren’t designed to be fixed, despite the wide range of micro tools and adhesive substances at my disposal, I couldn’t replace the battery more than once and guaranteeing a seal was almost impossible once the case was split.

TempoTrainerProA couple of years ago Finis released an updated model, ridiculously called the “Pro” (TTP). I guess though they couldn’t call it the “here’s how we should have made it first time“. Of  course what adding Pro to the title really meant of course was that Finis increased the price. I was not willingly to spend more money on a new Finis  product that would likely fail.

A couple of years on I hoped that their usual poor initial product quality would have improved, and I hit it lucky on Amazon UK (£25 over the usual price of £31.49), I finally bought the new version.

The Pro has had two major upgrades: The first and most important is the ability to allow the user to replace the battery. The second upgrade is the addition of a third timekeeping mode which can be used to set stroke rate or tempo, meaning it can be used to set strokes per minute, which could be useful for developing open water swimmers.

The battery compartment takes a CR 1620, (not the most common Li-ion coin battery), which is screwed into the unit. The threads are quite narrow. Narrow thread improves water seal but when the material is ABS or a hard plastic, it also means that the threads are easy to misalign, which will result in stripping, which will of course degrade waterproof ability. A widely-spaced deep thread with less rotations might have worked better, and still ensuring that the unit is sealed. As usual I wonder about Finis’ commitment to manufacturing quality. Regardless, you better be very careful closing the battery compartment, and make sure it’s flush with the case to ensure the threads are aligned.

As with the TT, the TTP comes with an utterly useless clip, which may have more utility in other sports. But it’s not that important as you simply put the TTP under your swim cap. The beep is loud enough for the wearer to hear (and not anyone else), with two, three or repeating beeps depending on mode used.

I typically use the Tempo Trainer (TTP) twice a week for the past couple of months. Once when doing a weekly reducing ten repetitions of 400 metres set. And second for my weekly time trial, which this winter is three consecutive kilometres, slowest through to fastest (not deliberately, it just takes me longer every year to hit maximum speed, my third kilometres is always my fastest). Last winter I was doing a three kilometre continuous time trial but I don’t have that in me this year apparently.

My most common use is in Mode One, which goes from 0:02 seconds to 99:99 seconds in hundredths of a second to set a target time for a lap (two lengths).

The Tempo Trainers are regularly used and touted for improving fitness and consequently speed. And yes, they are good for that, is you can stomach listening to that beep all the time and if you can get the setting right each day. (Maybe my speed just varies too much over a week).

All negatives aside the most unexpected benefit of using the TTP, and what has made it a valuable purchase for me, has been to see how the effect of small stroke changes during a swim affect my speed.

The TTP is a relentless target. You can start how ever you like, fast or slow, but the timer will always beep the target you must hit. It promotes consistent pacing, ideal for an open water swimmer.

I have found, entirely separately from shooting video of my stroke a every year, and usually left feeling disconsolate and frustrated, that the TTP actually allowed me to find stroke improvements that weren’t accessible via my own video. One length of poor concentration is enough to slip your target. Two lengths of poor stroke is enough to build an almost insurmountable gap to be chased. The TTP demonstrated, in a way I’d never really felt previously because the feedback was available every single length, that I needed to rotate and reach more on my weak (left) side. The improvement was immediate. It actually still feels like an exaggerated stroke to me, but with the TTP I went 11 seconds faster over my best kilometre time this year (but I still have to take another nine seconds off to hit last year’s time!). I also was able to measure the effectiveness of my “good” stroke versus my 200 to 300 metres unilateral “sprint” stroke and even to improve that.

I didn’t find Mode Three (stroke rate) as useful. My open water stroke rate is pretty consistent from years of swimming at 71 to 72 SPM (strokes per minute) normal pace (up two spm over the past two years). In the pool Mode Three really needs a long (50m) pool. An SCM or SCY pool is a bit too short, once you come out of your flip turn, if you are even a fraction out when you start stroking as adjusting takes away some of the benefit. I did do an eight by one kilometre set one day just testing this, varying each kilometre starting at 68 spm, going through 69, 70 and 71 before dropping back to 70. My open water rate is one or two strokes faster. All of this was only confirmation for me, but for someone with a too-low stroke rate, it may be useful to help develop a higher rate . I haven’t yet used it during an open water swim, as winter swims are too short. I’d prefer to use it for at least five kilometre to determine any possible utility (which I expect to be minimal).

Contrary to the advertising and Finis’ poor manufacturing and quality record, while the TTP is a useful tool for fitness, it’s especially useful for stroke improvement, especially for people like myself who don’t have anyone against whom to swim.

Amazon US link, $33 + shipping. (As with everything, the US is at least 25% cheaper than Europe).

Amazon UK link. £31.49 ($53) inc. shipping.

Perfect is the enemy of good

When I started back swimming for the first time since I was a kid, it came a huge but only slowly realised shock that I was the not the excellent swimmer I’d been as a young teenager, when I swam front crawl and butterfly in club for a year or two. I really don’t recall how long it was but it wasn’t club as we’d now know it with six a.m. training, five says a week.

I’d been away from swimming for decades and surfing didn’t really count. As soon as I started back I was breathing bilaterally naturally. After only a few weeks in the pool, not really knowing what I was doing, I swam two miles at Baile Na Gaul on my first open water swim, from the gritty and bleak tiny beach to Helvick Harbour and back. As a surfer, the sea didn’t frighten me and some time later, not knowing anyone there, I double-lapped Sandycove Island by myself, without realising that was a big target for many people. All I recall is that I had no idea of the shape of the island and at one point worrying I’d missed the turn back inside. (You need to swim Sandycove and realise that from outside the coast everything looks flat and similar and inlets disappear) to appreciate this.

So it was fairly reasonable that I thought I wasn’t a bad swimmer. It was another two years before I met Coach Eils, who rapidly disabused me of the notion. Her damning criticisms included “mechanical” and “substituting fitness for flow“.

I have over the years since changed my swimming style quite substantially. Most of it has by necessity been done by myself. But the more you know, often the less you are satisfied. I torture myself endlessly about my stroke and my speed, trying to improve, to get a smidgen more speed that I’ll never find. Is the angle of my arm correct? Are my hands parallel to the surface? What’s my streamline profile? And on and on.

Swimming technique requires constant work just for maintenance, let alone improvement. One effect of this endless treadmill is to sometimes, or in my case more often than not, lose sight of a simple fact.

I don’t have to be a perfect swimmer, to be a good swimmer. The twenty percent time and effort and work that got me eighty per cent of the way, that made me a good swimmer, is far eclipsed by the eighty percent I’ve spent in a seemingly fruitless quest to improve that final twenty percent of technique.

Sometimes you just need to remember how far you have come, rather than fretting over the remaining possible improvements you might never achieve. Not getting faster isn’t necessarily a failure. Maybe you are more relaxed instead, less likely to get injured, or maintaining fitness or speed as you get older.

So much of swimming literature and gurus and advice is aimed at perfection. But chasing perfection is Xeno’s Dichotomy. It’s often more fruitful to look how far you come.

Good enough (donal)

Can you swim comfortably? Are you relaxed in the water? Can you maintain a consistent stroke and stroke rate? Can you adapt to changing open water conditions?  Are you in control? Are you enjoying swimming?

You don’t have to be the best open water swimmer, you just have to be good enough.

 

Diana Nyad to confess all on Oprah!

How many times have I started a posted a post with similar words to; “Strange things happen in marathon swimming?

Ah, how the worm turns.

One reader of LoneSwimmer.com is a pool swimmer with their sights set on open water and their first 10k swim, always a big milestone. Their research led to LoneSwimmer.com and accidentally to my very popular LoneSwimmer.com article on Nyad’s controversial claimed Cuba to Florida swim.

oprah icon_256Said reader is also a “nondescript” (their term) employee of Harpo Productions. This  is the parent company of Oprah Prime and Oprah.com, which since the demise of the networked Oprah TV show, is the main outlet of host Oprah Winfrey. It’s the media avenue where the Lance Armstrong “confession” was made, in his failed attempt to convince the world it was everyone else’s fault.

On Friday night I received a camera phone photograph of notes taken in a post-recording production roundup meeting.

Oprah April's Fools Diana Nyad.resized.rotated

These brief coffee-stained and handwritten notes claim Diana Nyad has recorded a show with Oprah Winfrey. A brief “Executive Summary” calls the recording “Confessional and redemption-seeking” wherein she will likely admit to fraud during the events of the last Cuba to Florida attempt. Details will only be evident on the web release in May as our source didn’t see the actual recording or tape.

Given Diana Nyad’s lifelong history of self-promotion, is there any announcement in swimming less anticipated than this?

In marathon swimming, routes once apparently closed open up, connections previously unknown become apparent.

Since the events of last autumn, Diana Nyad has continued to peddle outright lies about the events, amongst which are claiming to have supplied proof of the swim to the satisfaction of the review panel, and continues to claim some mythical world records. But the supposed swim remains shrouded behind verbiage and a lack of any actual evidence and her post-swim fabrications were far more obvious to anyone interested, as could be seen on her reddit AMA in the New Year. (An online question and answer discussion session). (Some user called LoneSwimmer responds).

However, Hollywood hasn’t beaten a path to her door. She didn’t win the National Geographic People’s Choice Adventurer Award, her hoped-for musical based on her life is apparently no closer, and the public exposure of her treatment of Walter Poenisch all those years ago has become a publicity liability. So the avenues available for her further self-promotion were becoming  limited. As I can see from the search terms into LoneSwimmer, people now searching for Diana Nyad know there’s a controversy or even deception and most likely even use those words . This slipping from the public eye led to a failed turn on America’s Dancing With The Stars, some reality TV program, which like other similar reality TV dross, rounds up has-beens, never-weres and wanna-bes, in an orgy of desperate public attention-seeking.

But when those who know aren’t to be convinced, and the questions won’t go away, what better way to for a relentless self-promoter to grab the public attention than to throw themselves on the mercy of the public, and seek “redemption”. The public generally loves stories of redemption with a little bit of embarrassment.

I  have long held to the similarity between Diana Nyad and Lance Armstrong in terms of narcissism, media control, self-promotion and sporting deception. That analogy continues to be relevant.

Time will tell.

 

 

Big bag o' paddles

Review: Swimming paddles (Yet another update)

My pool bag now includes the silly total of five four five six five different types of paddles!

(Update 2013: I added another paddle and removed one, so I’m refreshing this review).

(Update March 2014: Added another paddle, subsequently removed yet another paddle. See below for comparison of PT Paddle and Complete Fitness Coaching Palm Paddle)

Big bag o’ paddles – I really need to update this photo to the current lineup.

Warning: overdoing paddle work is a mistake easily made. I was already doing a lot of metres when I increased my paddle work, and I had shoulders able to take that increase, but overdoing paddle work, especially power paddles, can lead to real shoulder injury. Start very, very, very easy, with no more than 200 metres total, if you are not already using paddles.

Medium tech paddles

1. I started years ago with Speedo Tech Paddles, medium size. Tech or technique paddles are designed mainly for aiding water-feel. They are to aid catch, early vertical forearm (EVF), strength and pull. A bit of a Jack-of-all-trades. They are good as first paddles. Useful for getting adding extra metres pulling to build up shoulder strength. Instead of putting the whole hand in the straps, once you adapt to using them, just use the middle finger loop to detect imbalances in stroke and catch. The rubber straps didn’t last well didn’t last and had to be replaced by bits of rubber tubing. I never use these any more and they are long gone.

Amazon US linkAmazon UK link.

Power Paddle
Power Paddle

2. My next and main paddles for a few years were Speedo Power Paddles. In 2009, Eilís has us doing a lot of paddle work in Channel training. Early on I was still using the tech paddles and hating them and paddle work in general. After one session with Rob Bohane, where I was killed, I decided to change my approach. So every day for the next month, I used the Power Paddles for warm-up  After that I had no more problems. These are brutal on your shoulders if you are not used to them, injuries will result if you overdo them. You can also lose your feel for the water with these. Note: All the straps on this are only one piece of surgical tubing. When I use these I only use them with the middle finger loop. However I just left the rest of the tubing attached.

Amazon US linkAmazon UK link.

Speedo StrokeMakers are reported to be excellent and widely used by experienced swimmers in the US but aren’t available in Europe. SwimOutlet link.

Forearm paddle

3. Forearm Paddles. My forearm paddles were a cheap €1.50 generic version and consequently aren’t terribly comfortable but perfectly adequate. These ones on Amazon US are identical in shape and may be the only time in my life I’ve seen something more expensive in the US.  Finis forearm bolsters should be more comfortable, as are all some of their  non-electronic products. The purpose of these is to work EVF and maximise catch and forearm pull. I often do 400m with these, combined with 400m fist drill or anti-paddles, as part of my warm up.

Amazon US link for Finis Paddles. Amazon UK link.

Speedo Finger paddle

4. Speedo Finger Paddles. I got these on the recommendation of Channel swimmers and coaches Jen Schumacher and Nuala Muir-Cochrane. They allow you to focus on your catch and your pull and vertical forearm. I have also found they are good for lengthening your stroke and overall keeping good focus throughout most phases of the stroke. They are also great for backstroke catch and technique. Lower strap removed as these are purely for technique. These are still great paddles that I regularly use and remain my favourites.

Amazon US link. Amazon UK link.

Finis PT Cruisers

5. Finis PT paddles, PT stands for “perfect technique”. These are also known as Anti-Paddles. Unlike all previous paddles which in some way enhance the arm or hand, these remove the hand completely from your stroke. Therefore they operate the same as fist drill .  Your stroke becomes all about felling the water and Early Vertical Forearm, EVF, i.e. the pull from your forearms. They are also very effective in engaging your core and driving your balance. The first couple of lengths swimming with these is like swimming with a live weasel in each hand. I’ve seen a lighter hollow version somewhere, but these are heavy and solid, which is what drives you to  engage your core to counter-balance them. And unlike fist drill, there’s no cheating with these. Your first few lengths after using them will give you a great feeling of power throughout your catch and pull. After about a year of year the external plastic casing on one cracked but they don’t seem to have deteriorated any further for the past two years.

Amazon US link.

Wearing PT Paddle
Wearing PT Paddle seen from above. Almost matches my hand outline

Two years on and I’ve grown to really dislike the PT Paddle. The plastic case split more, and the internal foam structures absorbed far more water than I’d realised until I took them home for this update. Each PT paddle (with water) weighs about 350 grams, 3/4 of a pound.  maybe 25% of that weight is absorbed water. Unlike most other paddles, all three “loops” in the tubing are needed to go on thumb and fingers to hold the paddle on while swimming, partially because of the weight, partially because of the design.

The weight is increasingly uncomfortable due to water absorption and the durability is typical of so many Finis products, who seem incapable of grasping late-20th Century Qualify Manufacturing tools. I would love to know that their DPPMs (defect parts per million) are on their various products. I had a look on Finis’ website (just trying to find things on their utterly crap flash website can give you a headache), and can’t find the PT Paddle anymore. I suspect it’s another product that’s been removed due to, well, being so badly made.

Finis Agility Paddles - Note that my thumb is straight not bent
Finis Agility Paddles – Note that my thumb is straight not bent

6. Finis Agility paddles. After being introduced in 2102, I first got a chance to use these in early 2013 and immediately bought a pair and have been using them very regularly since. These are now my favourite paddle and I regularly use them in conjunction with the finger paddles. Finis Agility paddles have no strap and fit on each hand using a simple thumb hole. In order to keep them on your hands during the stroke you must keep a good catch and pull through on every stroke. (Since using these I have also reduced my use of power paddles). Everyone who has tried this has felt the immediate technique feedback. These may be the best paddles on the market. And if you want just one paddle, I’d recommend these. They can also be used for all strokes.

Amazon US linkAmazon UK link.

7. Complete Fitness Coaching Palm Paddle.

Palm Paddle.resized

Coach Martin Hill contacted me a few months ago to ask if I wanted to try out his new Palm Paddle, versus the PT Paddle.

I’ve had the PT Paddles for a couple of years and as I updated above, increasingly came to dislike them. All fist drill type products aren’t particularly fun to swim with, eliminating, as is their purpose, the propulsive effect of the hand to develop catch, EVF and forearm pull.

The Palm Paddle in the antithesis of the PT Paddle. A hollow single-part blown-plastic paddle, with a single tube loop for the centre finger. It weighs one-tenth of the PT paddle. It is also significantly narrower, only about two-thirds of the width.

I have small to medium-sized hands (no sniggering there) and the PT paddle completely fills the hand, whereas the Palm Paddle sits more in the centre with the hand protruding to either side, and the curve of the paddle is less than the PT. This means it doesn’t slip as easily, i.e. it does catch the water a little more than the PT.

Apart from the weight, I like that it only requires a single finger, as this is how most paddles are better used. Also the light weight provides stroke feedback that the PT paddle doesn’t, which is that it can slip sideways on your hand, particularly at the end of the pull (for me) if the pitch of the hand is wrong. That said, I found a slight uncomfortable tensing of my hand because of the width toward the end of a 400 metre drill because I was cupping my hand.

Palm Paddle vs PT Paddle.resized

I compared my normal stroke without paddles, to wearing Palm Paddles, to wearing PT Paddle in swim speed terms (while maintaining a moderate pace). Palm Paddles added about 10 seconds per 50m, whereas the PT added double that. Since fist drills are not about speed but about learning to maximise the catch, that means the PT paddle is more effective at eliminating any propulsion from the hand. However I also think it adds too much body rotation as because of the weight and they are not pleasant to wear and regularly slip.

While the PT paddles are better at eliminating the hand to focus on EVF, the fact the Palm Paddles are more comfortable to swim with, while still performing the same task, means you will use them more regularly than the PT Paddles. I’ve now removed the PT Paddles from my pool gear bag.

So on the face of it, having five four five six five pairs of paddles seems like overkill. But each performs a specific useful technique and training task.

Introducing The LoneSwimmer Plan™©® to becoming a more goodlier Internet swimmer in 19 or 27 easy steps

Every so often I get asked by a runner or triathlete for a bit of stroke advice or help, which I’m always happy to do, (as, in my experience, is pretty much the case with every experienced swimmer in a public pool).

Here’s how it usually goes:

Hey, you seem like a decent swimmer. I have a triathlon coming in two weeks, can you give me some tips on getting better at the swimming leg?

I suppress my inner sigh at the allowed timeframe, analyse their stroke, give them the most essential advice (almost always; exhale underwater, and stop kicking like you’re trying for a drop-goal, give them a couple of appropriate drills* and tell them to just focus on technique for the next two weeks).

Two, three, six months, or a year later, having giving up the suggested drills after the first two days, because “well, they were slow and boring and making no difference“, they’ve made zero progress.

I finally realised the problem: I’m not T’Internet.

They are used to, indeed want, T’Internet to tell them what to do. What equipment to buy, what kind of swimmer they are and what kind they aren’t and what kind they should be. I’m just a ridiculously handsome, tall and svelte middle-aged guy in a pair of Speedoes. (As you know, I’m kind of like the Mark Foster of open  water swimming). And I’m right there. I mean if I was any good, I wouldn’t be in their pool, right? I’d be on T’Internet.

Former 6x 50m World Champion Mark Foster. Just give him to me for six months and I could make something decent out of him. A few scrapes off the reef of Sandycove's second corner would make something proper out of him
Former 6x 50m World Champion Mark Foster. Just give him to me for six months and I could make something decent out of him. A few scrapes of his face off the reef of Sandycove’s second corner would add a bit of proper manliness.

And further, I realised, the world does not have enough T’Internet Godlike Swimming Gurus.  So for all those people who want more Internet swimming and another guru, me ‘n the team here at LoneSwimmer™©® Towers™©®, having spent huge sums and committed vast resources to the development cycle, are finally unveiling the spectacularly effective LoneSwimmer™©® Internet Swimming Plan™©® (aka LISP ™©®)

The main features of LISP™©® are

1: More Swimming Acronyms (MSA), abbreviations and buzzwords.

2: A decidedly effective and concise 27** point  Personally Integrated Stroke System (PISS™©®) for easily and quickly making your frontcrawl more goodlier.

3: A Cult of Personality based entirely on me and comprising a growing network Collection of LoneSwimmers™©® Across the World (CLAW™©®).

4: New drills that are not-at-all like existing drills, tailored specifically for you with cool new names. In a breakthrough new feature not previously seen on T’Internet, every single CLAW™©® member will be given individual drill names for each drill, ensuring personalised personalisation.

5. A simple and easy rolling monthly payment plan through PayPal for your convenience, and for which you gain access to the labyrinthine LoneSwimmer.com archives, covering diverse subjects from open water techniques through social aspects of swimming to fashion and beauty tips, the value for money is extraordinary. The cumulative amount you spend will be far in excess of a visit to some local coach for basic stroke analysis who can actually see you swimming, or buying that decent swimmer a beer in exchange for their advice, but you know you are getting the best Internet advice. Let the losers get their advice locally.

6: For a modest extra fee of $14.99 per query, the team will answer all your incredibly difficult and never-encountered-before-not-ever open water swimming queries, including but not limited to:

Why can’t I swim straight?

What kind of goggles should I use?

My legs! What the hell do I do with my legs?

Are there bitey things in the water?

Does my arse look big in this?

*

I’m sure you are all excited as excited about this as I am. Years of giving out advice for nothing reciprocal is for fools.

Let it end, I say.

In Part Two we’ll look at my copyrighted and trademarked Twenty Seven Easy Steps To Becoming a Goodlier Internet Swimmer (TSESTBAGIS™©®)**.

And I’ll be rolling the awesome TSESTBAGIS™©® Franchise Coaching Opportunity (™©®) where you too can partake in CLAW™©® as a higher level for a very reasonable cost. And for every future member you sign to TSESTBAGISCLAWFCO™©® you will benefit in a financial reward that is not in any way like a pyramid scheme, and I have the lawyers and a Certification of Financial Compliance from Myanmar University of Financial Rectitude and People’s Agricultural Learning to assert such.

*

*Swim With One Leg in the Air Drill (SWOLeD™©®). I do it every day***. I proudly assert that I am the world’s best one leg in the air swimmer.

** Or 19. Or something. Actual number of steps subject to revision.

*** Really.

Who dares swims …

%d bloggers like this: