After years of thinking about it, months of planning, and days of extreme anxiety, I could not wait to start the swim. We had just spent the last two hours trying to rest on the boat ride from Long Beach harbor to Doctor’s Cove on Catalina Island. I had a headache, was hot, and the feeling in my stomach had me worried that if moved the wrong way I would be joining the crew hanging over the railing of the boat feeding the fishes last nights dinner. The winds were just over 10 knots and the resulting waves made it a bit difficult to walk around the boat without holding on. I sat down on the bench and Jim attached a light stick to the back of my suit and then I lay down for a few minutes. In the midst of the commotion of everyone helping with the kayaks and fixing up the drink bags Nate came over to tell me that Kate’s boat was at the cove and she was about to get in the water. I walked out to the boat deck and saw her standing on the beach with the floodlight shining on her. I have watched her walk into and out of the water so many times but to watch her this time I could barely contain my tears. I wanted to holler and scream for her but thought I might throw-up so I asked Nate to whistle for me and I clapped my hands as loud as I could until she had swam out of the cove and was on her way. Her whole boat and crew joined in the noise making as she cruised through the water with her usual grace and consistency.
With Kate now in the water, I knew it was my turn and I still had to put on the lanolin. I had only had one practice swim with lanolin and was concerned about its intense viscosity. Rubbing it on the skin was kind of like trying to spread taffy on a dinner plate. Kjirsten volunteered to help out and used a pair of Jim’s gloves to spread it around my neck, under my arms and on my inner thighs (basically any spot where my skin and suit would rub). I sat down on the edge of a cooler so as not to mess up any of the boat furniture and asked my sister to get me as soon as they were ready. I suddenly remembered that I forgot to put in my earplugs and scrambled back to my swim bag and spread the wax plugs over my ear. I think that bit of excitement was enough to get my intestines pumping and so I headed to the head for fecal relief. It was an additional mental relief because I had been worried about the possibility of having to poo in the middle of the channel.
Finally the kayaks were ready and in the water, the crew was ready and I was dressed and ready. Jim guided me to the edge of the boat and calmly told me that whenever I was ready I could jump in. The boat captain was shining a floodlight on the water and I could see the masses of kelp waving at me in the water and a long skinny silver fish swimming past the boat. Jim pointed to the shore and to the kayakers (Nate and Ed). I climbed up on the railing and jumped in feet first into the illuminated water. As soon as the water hit my face I felt an instant sense of relief. My hot pulsing forehead was soothed and my restless body calmed by the 70-degree water. I swam into the cove and walked up on the beach almost at the stroke of midnight. I rose up my arms (the starting signal for Jim) and headed back to the water. Just then, Dave emerged from the water to take my picture. I struck a quick pose and then eagerly walked back down to the water, not giving enough time for Dave to stuff the camera back in his swimsuit. I hopped in and started swimming, forgetting about the roped buoy line that rubbed over my back and making no attempts to swim around the beds of kelp that tangled around my arms and body. I looked for the lights of the boat and the glow sticks on the kayaks and swam. When I finally found the kayaks were next to me I looked back for Dave.
Dave and I were introduced through Forrest and met for the first time on winter morning swimming around the cove at Corona Del Mar. Dave was also preparing to swim the Catalina Channel at the end of August and agreed to be a companion swimmer and help out on the boat. On our previous swims Dave and I would swim head to head and as we rounded each buoy he would swim backstroke to give me the chance to catch up around the corners. But now in the dark night I could hardly see a thing and finding the green glow of a single light stick on Dave’s back was proving challenging. I decided to just keep swimming and Dave would find me.
The waves were bouncing us all around. At one turn of my head I would see the kayak and on the next it had disappeared beneath the crest of the wave. I could catch glimpses of light sticks that were either Dave a kayak or I thought maybe they were another boat out on the water. I felt confused and started lifting my head up to find my dad on the kayak. After 30 minutes I heard voices calling out and my dad moving his light stick back and forth and I knew it was time for a feeding. I lifted my head up and swam close to his kayak. Dave came over to us and told me he was going to get out for a while and get back in later. I said okay and watched him swim back to the boat as I took a short swig of perpetuem from a bottle that my dad handed to my. I asked my dad if he could move back because I could not see him but I knew that would be hard to do with the waves and the darkness. I quickly threw the bottle back into his boat and then put my head down and kept swimming.
I continued to struggle to keep myself between my dad’s kayak and Nate’s. When I would turn to look for my dad I was blinded by the white light of the boat but when I would look for Nate I often could see nothing but darkness as his light sticks were obscured as he dipped up and down in the waves. I felt like I was a ping pong being batted between the two kayaks. I would get close to one and then veer towards the other only to find I was too close and then veer back again. On several occasions I ran into the back of a kayak (the next day I noticed a small bump on my head the likely result of these cranium/kayak collisions). The disorientation was a little frustrating, but I remembered that Forrest had told us that this process of learning to swim with kayak guides and swim companions was like a dance and it just takes a while to figure out what your partners are doing and then things will go much more smoothly. I held onto that thought as I kept swimming.
The disorientation may not have improved drastically by the time my sister jumped in the water to join me, but I did feel a lot better about it. When she was close, I could see the green glow of Genevieve’s glow stick when I breathed to the right. However often I could not see if she was in front to the side or behind. Sometimes I would figure it out by accidentally running into her or she into me. Jim was amused by our pauses to apologize to one another mid stroke and dubbed us the “sorry” sisters.
After a few feedings, it was time for my dad to get out. Nate escorted my sister and I ahead as my dad went back to the boat. As we swam ahead of the boat the water became darker and the bioluminescence from the tiny marine creature became stronger. With every stroke there were streams of tiny sparkles that appeared like slow motion firecrackers in the dark water. I could hear the noise of the boat fading behind us. I lifted my head up to see just how far away from the boat we had traveled but Nate and Genevieve encouraged me to not worry about the boat and that it would catch up and so we kept swimming.
Not long after the boat caught up, I started to hear a strange clicking noise under water. At first it was faint and then startlingly clear and loud. At the moment it became loudest my sister bolted up out of the water and hollered “I think I just saw something”. I saw her looking behind her perhaps to see if that something was now following us but there was nothing to see but dark water and dark sky. I soon realized that the strange clicking noises were from dolphins (Genevieve later told me that one of the dolphins swam so close under her that she could almost touch it).
At the next feeding Kjirsten jumped on the kayak. I immediately recognized her ponytail illuminated by the lights of the boat and the green glow sticks. By this point we had abandoned using the glow stick as a signal to stop for a feeding as I was having so much trouble just seeing them let along seeing them being waved back and forth. Instead Nate would just holler “emily emily emily emily emily” as many times as necessary until I lifted my head up. Once we were stopped my sister said she would be getting out at the next feeding and I knew that we had been out there for over 2hrs.
I decided not to wear a watch for the swim and asked the crew to not tell me what time it was or how far we had traveled but I always had a rough idea of things based on the appearance of the sky and the rotation of the swimmers and kayakers. I also knew that Karin was scheduled to swim with me until sunrise. So when I saw her jump in I knew it was sometime around 3am.
I stopped for a feeding and felt my stomach turn over. I was worried that the drink mix was making me queezy and then I was worried that the waves were making me sick and finally decided that it was the diesel fumes from the boat that were making me sick. I tried to burp and fart and all these helped and tried to swim closer to the outside. At the next stop Nate asked how I was doing and I commented on the exhaust. Karin remarked that she was noticing it too and that made me reassured that I was not sea sick and the drink mix was not making me ill. I just needed to wait for the winds to change and the exhaust to go away and I would feel better.
I started looking up to the stars when I turned to breath. They were bright and glowing and I could see Orion. As time went on I saw them turn to grey and slowly fade. As the stars faded the kayaks became more visible. I could see the outline of Kjirsten and Nate on the kayaks and could see the flower pattern on Karin’s swim cap. I knew that the sun would soon be rising and was very relieved. The water turned from black to grey, and finally to blue. By the time the sunrays were shining on the water I could see the most amazing crystal blue colors and the bouncing waves of the nighttime calmed to more gentle rollers.
Jim called from the boat to Karin that it was time for her to get out and after another feeding Kjirsten also exited the water. I figured it was breakfast time for the crew but I could not see or smell anything. (They were all intentionally careful to not eat out on the deck in front of me –but Nate still managed to smell the tantalizing odors of warm breakfast of bacon and eggs while he begrudgingly chewed on his Cliff Bar).
Nate and I cruised along and I felt a second wind. I could see. I had made it to daylight. I was not running into anything. I was calm and comfortable. The waves had settled. My arms felt good. My head felt good and my stomach was calm. I knew that if I had made it this far I could make it all the way. All I had to do was keep going one feeding at a time.
Next Genevieve jumped in on the kayak and we continued to cruise though the blue water. I could see jellyfish below me and pieces of kelp on the surface would occasionally brush by. On one turn of my head I saw a bird (that looked like a Pelican) to my left side. I thought this was a good sign that we were nearing the coastline. At another of the feedings Genevieve told me that we could see the lighthouse and I paused to look ahead.
There had been several land sightings on the swim. The first was when Nate excitedly reported in the middle of the night that he could see the lights of LA. The second was at a feeding where I could see the swirling light of the Pt. Vicente lighthouse and now in the clarity of the morning we could all see the mainland in front of us and the lighthouse perched on the cliff of Palos Verdes.
I told myself I could not get excited yet and knew that we still had a ways to go. I thought about hiking up mountains or over passes in the Sierras and how even when you could see the top it was still very far away. I used to stare at the snow and refuse to look up until I had reached the top. I thought of the lighthouse like those mountaintops and decided that I would not think about being close until I could make out the outline of the rocks on the beach and so onward we swam.
Karin and Dave jumped in the water to join me. Karin called out “You are going to be in the middle of a Karin / Dave sandwich” I loved looking to each side and seeing a friend; one on a kayak and one swimming each direction that I looked. I felt so lucky to have so many wonderful people supporting me and sharing the experience. As we swam the water temperature dropped to 64 degrees. I had been so worried about that cold water current but when I finally felt it I was relieved. The water felt refreshing compared to the biting 48-degree water of Lake Berryessa in the winter or the chilly swells of San Francisco Bay’s Aquatic Park.
Stephanie took over for my sister on the kayak. I was glad to see her in the water. I knew that she had suffered seasickness on the ride over and hoped that some time on the water would sooth her stomach. I watched her purple suit and tan sunhat as she kayaked by our side.
I could sense some excitement on the boat and saw that the girls and my dad were dressed in their swimsuits and moving around. I could not contain myself at this point because I knew that meant they were preparing to jump in and swim and this meant that we were very close. At the next feeding a flurry of bright colored caps and suits bounded off the boat and speckled the water around me. It was like a great swim party. I could see my dad, Christine, my sister, and Kjirsten all gliding through the water and Stephanie and Nate smiling on the kayaks. Karin boarded the boat to take pictures.
Nate handed me a bottle and gave me a serious look. He told me that this was my last feeding and that I could NOT receive any help from anyone getting up on shore. (He later told me he was worried that I would get disqualified and we would have to do it all again). I said okay and put my head down and headed toward shore surrounded by the colorful entourage of family and friends.
I was so excited to finish but I felt sad that my mother would not be at the beach to greet us. I had made an error it telling her which beach to go to and had realized it as we approached the shore. I hoped that she could see the boat coming in and I thought of her standing on the shore knowing I would not get to see her in person until we were home.
When we were almost at the shore I lifted my head up. There was someone standing on the beach taking pictures. He was right at the edge of the water. As soon as my eyes came into focus I realized it was Forrest. I was thrilled. My dad and Dave swam up behind me and Nate waited off shore. They advised me to take it slow walking up the beach.
I remembered this exit from helping on Michele’s crossing and knew I was lucky to encounter this beach with low swell. I waited for the surge to move forward and I took a few steps and when it pulled back I grabbed onto the rocks and held on. At the next surge I was able to walk all the way up the beach and stand up next to Forrest. Everyone hollered from the water and the boat and the official time stopped at 9hrs and 35 minutes.
I wanted to jump up and down but as I started wave with excitement I lost my balance and had to hold onto Forrest’s shoulder to not fall over. He asked me how it was and I told him it was the “best swim ever”. I stared back across the ocean back at my friends and family at the water and the rocks. I could not believe that I had finally done it. I had swum from Catalina Island. I had swam from a place that seemed so far away that we used it as a measure of air quality (because only on a good day could you ever see something so far away) and Nate had kayaked the whole way too.
My dad joined me up on the beach and Forrest took our picture. I was so happy that he had been with me. I had to thank him for this whole idea in the first place and was thrilled that he was there standing on the beach with me at the end. Forrest took a few more pictures and then told me to get back to the boat and get warm. Before I left he pointed on the water to the boat the Bottom Scratcher (Kate’s boat). I was relieved that she was close to shore and wanted to talk to her but knew I would have to wait.
We all headed back to the boat and climbed in for the trip back to Long Beach harbor. We were all relieved and excited after an amazing adventure.
Thank You all my dear friends and family and supporters that made this possible. I could never have done this without you.
