2011 Maui Channel Swim

Okay, so I'm sorry I'm running a little tardy on posting up some form of first-hand report from last weekends Maui Channel race, but I've literally been spending the bulk of my time focusing on healing up, and trying to play catch up since returning back home from Hawai'i just a few days ago. Chiefly for me, the main culprit of time consumption being a pretty severe case of sun poisoning found on various parts on the back side of my body, that has effected daily living operations on such a level, that simply just lying around was the best and only thing to do. As my condition continues to get better each day, I find myself quickly returning to all the thing's of interest that I love to do the most, blogging here being one of them. I must say in regards to this specific blog though, that I did start to write up a report in the last few days, but since then decided just recently to delete all written material compiled, and offer my thoughts in a different perspectives throughout the said piece you are now reading. My main reason for this being that when I sat around and thought about all the many thing's that took place during the course of my swim, and on a level of magnitude such as this, that it would be nearly impossible for me to write in intricate detail about each moment that had unfolded throughout my entire solo channel crossing event.   

I knew in the months leading up to the Maui Channel swim, that this would be an epic journey of both physical and mental prowess for me, in the surreal surroundings of the Hawaiian islands and oceans of the Pacific. Standing on the small beach on the island of Lanai amidst the arriving surf, lined shoulder to shoulder with eighty-nine other swimmers and gazing out at the ninety individual boats that awaited for each one of us, and even more so the incredible vastness of the channel itself beyond that, would only be one small part of personal remembrance for me this special day in the overall grand scheme of thing's.

With the waving of a flag it all begins. The personal quest that one individual has set for himself of major athletic achievement and human endurance, has begun. Charging forward into the oncoming surf, the distant view observed from before of such wide spread photo graphical measure, soon rapidly vanished into a tiny windowed universe unchanging of water, sun, and sky. Before I knew it, my watery world had become full of the most deepest, yet neutralist shade of blue one could have ever seen. To my left and to my right, straight ahead, and even on down to the depths of the unknown, there was blue sea everywhere. Moving forward with each stroke swam, my sinewy pale white arms sliced into the unblemished canvass backdrop of endless sea, causing the most unusual, yet delightful visual effect of lighting. As though struck from the sky on a stormy night, each arm flashed in brightness against the full vision of that most alluring, yet frightful shade of blue. 

      











I knew the swim wasn't going to be easy. Quite frankly if you must know, leading up to it there was a big part inside of me, that hoped it would be more tougher than I ever could have imagined. As I swam along hour after hour, through the different changing water patterns of the channel itself, I personally relished in the feeling of it. With each breathe taken, I slowly watched as the island of Lanai became smaller and smaller, until it disappeared all together out of the view of my swim goggles. Further and further I ventured across. In front of me, the boat that I was supposed to follow along with for directional purposes, as well in the advent that an emergent situation has unfolded, a rescue craft. When positioned in front of me, I remember being humorously amused internally at how I could only visualize the top four foot of her main mast from my vantage point, as the seas between us raised and lowered in great distance. I didn't always see her, but I felt completely comforted knowing she was out there. One of the biggest thing's I had remembered telling people and was most looking forward to personally experiencing, was that of being alone and under power by thyself far out in the center of the channel. I loved this feeling ever so much so. So many different words could be used to described this moment, but for once, just once being the smallest of objects in a much bigger world than I, unprotected and amongst the unknown lurking below, was a most unmeasurable moment of human emotional nature for me. I will never forget it! 

To get a perspective on just how I felt alone out in the channel, look at the photo below. In the picture, we can see Capt. Steve Fisher skillfully piloting the way across the channel. Now look closer on the right-hand side of the photo, just there above Steve's shoulder. You see that little spot in the water? Go ahead and double-click on the photo so it enlarges itself twice to get a better view. Yup that's me, little ol' me out there swimming all by lonesome. Amazing to see the correlation of size in contrast to the overall picture huh...catch my drift?

The mind does many thing's to appease, or I guess engage itself when it experiences something out of it's normal operational mode. The lone isolation in an unfamiliar world, under less than stellar conditions, would be enough to raise many an eyebrow or two amongst many. Whoa, what was that dark shape I just saw over there? Hey, did something just swim by so quickly and vanish before I could tell what it was? Are these thing's I'm experiencing real or is it just my imagination simply playing tricks on me, I ask myself? Wait a minute, was there just a seagull hovering just mere feet over the top of me whilst swimming along during my swim? For one of these questions I know absolutely for sure what the answer was, and for the others...I don't know. 

    

















By the numbers, I had put in 6.5 hours of elapsed time in officially swimming, accomplished just under 8 miles in distance covered, and made my way just over three quarters of the way across the Maui Channel. I could see the finish line in sight, but it was still quite a ways off in the distance. Blowing 25-30 knot winds, 4" foot and possibly more seas, along with the endless chop and howling whitecaps, had rendered me to a point where not only had my swim form broken down, but the physical aspect of over looking the constant pain any longer, just didn't seem to be logical. I attempted to start several more times as the boat circled around, but only met with failure in trying to continue on. The decision to stop now becoming much more of a mental battle, than physical one. As I bobbed in the rough seas, waves crashing atop me and slowly sinking due to exhaustion, I mulled over in my mind on just what I should do. Then the call came out. "What do you want to do, was asked? Hesitating a bit on information that was given, I kept on treading water wondering about what exactly I had left in me. The exact words bellowing from the boat shortly before and now in my mind becoming that of awakening and shattering blow at the same precise moment, the moment that I knew my solo crossing effort was over." 

Fellow hospital co-worker and staunch online supporter Frank Handlin RN, summed it up best in an online post to my facebook page afterwards, mentioning that he couldn't think of a "more deserving adversary than the sea." After thinking about it more and more in the following days of the swim, I have come to the same conclusion that right you are Frank, so right you are!