Relay Swimming the English Channel

My written record of swimming a four-person relay across the English Channel last year vaporized with a bad computer, so I’m going to log a few memories here and now before they fade into faint recollections.

Let’s just say right here I am not—nor have I any desire to be—a marathon swimmer. I am a perfectly happy middle distance open water swimmer, not the fastest and not the slowest but always up for an adventure and the challenge of working through tough tides.

My friend Kate had originally signed up for a solo EC swim, until she realized she wasn’t up for a solo. She invited her best friend Curtis, and my swim buddy, as well as Randy, another Alki swim buddy (who’d had to abort his EC solo swim the prior season). With team secured with a “special” relay of four people since six swimmers are standard for a relay, we commenced several months of cold water training in the Pacific Northwest.

Our boat was Sea Satin with pilot Lance Oram, three crew and observer Irene. We were adhering to channel swimming rules with CS&PF, a tightly run federation that ratifies crossings and approves a small stable of longtime pilots, their vessels and qualified crew/observers. Rules for swimmers include wearing ONLY a suit, goggles and cap (and earplugs), not messing up the timing on swimmer switches every 60 minutes in the case of a relay, and not touching another swimmer or the boat. We had a high spring tide and overcast weather, with water around 60-61f most of the way across in July. Out of Dover Marina and around to Shakespeare Beach, Kate started the first leg at 6:45a.

Random details for swimmers who are doing this:

•          It’s really easy to get to Dover from London; just one main train from St. Pancras on the Southeastern Railway. There’s an express train, too. Taxis are in the little towns.
•          You are given a time window of a week when the pilot decides the best weather day to swim, meaning you’ll need to book a spread of lodging. Just know that. The psychological phenomenon of this anticipation is known as “The Dover Coaster.”
•          We stayed in Folkestone in an Air BnB. Do not stay at the Grand Burstin yikes! Make sure yours is an insulated/soundproofed or updated place so you can peacefully sleep!
•          The coastal seagulls are angry, raging and incessant—like the unsettled dead, trapped in purgatory—all night. Bring good earplugs.
•          Plan your food (feeds). Single serve oatmeal, bee bread (a pollen derivative) and tea served me well most of the swim. The nice part of being on a relay is when you’re done shivering you can just go feed yourself. The crew was anti electrolytes for fear of salt overload, I think for a relay it's not as much a detriment as with a solo. Solo feeds are cast overboard in intervals and entirely different: canned peaches, carbopro, diluted goo....you're on your own there. 
•       Develop a sign language code for your relay teammates to indicate progress in your leg: half, 15 mins to go, 5 (then the horn sounds when it’s time to switch).
•          Pick your assist teammate and switch off for them for help drying and dressing. Even after an hour, the cold sets in a few minutes after getting back on deck on you shiver out.
•          If you swim on the leeward side (protected from the wind) you will also likely taste your vessel’s diesel.
•          If cigarette smoke bothers you, definitely ask your pilot about running a nonsmoking trip and ask that none of the crew smokes. Even out at sea you notice. Especially at sea.
•          There is nothing to sight on, so just swim with the boat. And the sea rolls.
•          I saw many beautiful compass jellyfish, and got mild stings. There were a couple jelly  types, but most of them were the compass variety. 
•          Even though it was a relay, I still developed salt tongue (raw, bumpy sides). I also tasted diesel for about 24 hours. It was up in my sinuses. Maybe have a sinus rinse packed?
• A yacht arrogantly cut close to our boat on my first leg; the pilot ran to the bow and gave him a verbal slaying. It was way too close. At one point somehow the pilot boat got directly behind me, and then throttled up suddenly--I made a 90 and booked out of the way. There are cameras for the pilot to see swimmers...somehow they lost me for a moment. A good reminder to be alert if something seems amiss. 
•          My suits got filthy. The linings were coated in oil (it is the busiest shipping lane in the world, after all). The white lined suits to this day are permanently beige. Oh yeah, unless you like swimming in wet dirty suits for a relay, pack a bunch to swap out. I am the Cher of costume changes!         
•  All the lights are out on the French coast at night! We landed in the darkest of dark new moon. I was not afraid in the least to swim at night; I was just happy we were landing, even if it was after midnight. 
• Bring chocolate! This tasted so good on board to quell the salt and funky tongue. 

 July 12, 2018 we were the only boat to cross that day (technically landing 25 minutes into July 13), landing at 12:25 a.m. It felt great to finish! We were buzzing on our own adrenaline for several more hours.