Guest Blog: The journey to completing the North Channel
I'm honoured, once again, to host a guest blog by our local living legend Gráinne Moss who has just returned from some heroic undertakings in Ireland and now reports on her experiences.
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| North Channel, 22 July 2022 |
When I touched to rocky shores of Scotland on 22nd July 2022 you could say that the journey from Irish soil through freezing cold water (average 12.8 degrees) and stinging jellyfish had taken 13 hours, 33 minutes and 36 seconds. This would not be correct.
Thinking back, there were three key events that started
this journey. The first was my dad teaching me to swim at a young age; the
second is when I was seven and a swimming coach, Pat Simpson, approached my dad
saying “your daughter has the best natural technique I have seen, can I coach
her?” and the third is doing an open water sea swim in Bangor at age 12
accompanied in a rowboat by a terrified teenager who kept asking me when I was
getting out.
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| First swimsuit |
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| Early swimming days |
My dad and Pat taught me the technique of swimming
well, how to train, to be disciplined, as well as a love of the sport.
They also taught me to be open to all forms of swimming and swimmers: Pat
coached several special Olympians, we played water polo, and swam in the sea to
make sure I didn’t burn out as many young competitive swimmers do. That
terrified teenager in the rowboat? His worry for me meant I didn’t finish the
swim. I knew I could make it, but I wasn’t sure he would! On exiting the water
that day, I was placed on the lead safety boat with a man called Brian Meharg.
This would lead to a long and special friendship revolving around boats and
swims in the North Channel.
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| The boat rowed by the terrified teenager |
‘Success is not final;
failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.’ –Winston
Churchill
My 2022 attempt at the North Channel was not my
first; however, I am relatively confident it will be my last! I grew up looking
out at the North Channel every day. I trained in it for the 1986 World
Championships and my successful English Channel swim in 1987. In 1988 I was the
support swimmer for the first female to cross the channel, Alison Streeter. As
I swam beside her in the dark, getting stung by jellyfish I thought ‘I will do
this one day.' In 1990 I was the first and final swimmer in the Ireland One
relay team – the first team to swim across the North Channel.
It was not until 1996 that I made my first solo
attempt. I still have the observer report of this swim and the report reflects
well the challenges I faced – the jellyfish and lots of them. They led to
vomiting during the swim only three hours into the attempt. Seven hours
later Brian, the pilot, and the team on the boat agreed it was time to take me
out of the water as I was not swimming faster than the turning tide. I had
thought I would be devastated but I wasn’t. I was elated. I had faced my fears
of failure, tried, and swum more than almost anyone would have managed given
what I faced. This event significantly shaped my life. It freed me to try risky
challenging things because ‘failure’ is in the eye of the beholder and as
Churchill said – ‘failure is not fatal.'
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| The crew: David Adams, Dad (Joe Gunn), Billy Wallace, Me, and Mum (Philippa Gunn) on the White Heather, owned by Brian Meharg |
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The 1996 attempt: Gráinne with Philippa Gunn on the White Heather |
I came back to the North Channel in 1997 and was
pulled out 1km from the finish with hypothermia. This time I was not elated: I
was devastated. I cried for days and found it very difficult to talk about the
second attempt. I now realise that whilst it was tough and cold there were a
few small errors I made in my preparation. I was disappointed in myself. Brian
the pilot said ‘Gráinne go off and have some wanes (babies) and come back after
a long hot summer and try again.’
Well, I did go off and have some ‘wanes’ – four of
them. I have given talks on my many swims, but this was always ‘the one that got
away.' It was only after I swam Foveaux Strait in March 2022 that I called
Brian and asked him if he fancied a ‘wee nip’ across the channel. Even though I
had waited 25 years to come back, Brian said yes immediately, and preparation
started in earnest.
‘I am not telling you it is going to be easy… I am telling you it is going to be worth it’ – Art Williams
Well, I don’t know who Art is but boy was he right.’
It was not easy. It was tough – the hardest swim I have ever done. Whilst I had
heeded the first piece of advice Brian had given me and had some babies, there
had been no long hot summer in the North Channel. The water was cold: the
average sea temperature during the crossing was 12.8 degrees. I was stung by a
lion's mane jellyfish an hour and a half into the swim, and then again three
hours into the swim. Four hours into the swim I felt terrible. I was really
questioning myself at this point. I thought if I feel this bad after four
hours, what am I going to feel like after ten? As I swam, I thought through the
previous months, checking the training … and yep, I confirmed I had done the
work, watched the diet, made the sacrifices, got the sleep. I couldn’t have
prepared better … so why did I feel so bad? Well, one word, JELLYFISH, those
things with no bones, no brains, and no hearts! I thought, ‘let’s just get
through the next 30 minutes, … and then the next … and then the next … lo and
behold, at six hours I felt strong, long – but yes, cold! I thought if I
managed to avoid jellyfish for a few hours, things might be OK …
Once I touched Scotland, I checked with the crew on the boat that all was good, and I could return to the boat which I did at speed. I was wrapped in blankets and quickly lay down. For an hour and a half, I retched into a cup held by my 16-year-old child (isn’t it meant to be the other way round?) as my body tried to expel the toxins from the jellyfish. Despite being exhausted the pain of the jellyfish sting prevented me getting any more than 40 minutes sleep in the 12 hours following the swim. Yes, it wasn’t easy ... but was it worth it? Absolutely more on that later!
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| Recovery |
'The journey is best measured in friends not in miles' – Tim Cahill
Many people think of open water swimming as a solo
sport. Nothing is further from the truth – especially on this swim. No
part of this journey was made on my own.
The many friends I have made on this journey are
special, unique and a gift. In the last 12 months prior to the channel
crossing, I swam 871 kms over 12 months ranging from 0-41kms per week. Barely a
stroke of this was on my own … either in the pool or in the sea. I did a 4 plus
hour training swim in 12.4 degrees in June in Wellington starting at 8am. The
Wellington swimming community – the infamous – Spuds Buds and Washing Machines
ensured I swam every stroke accompanied. One of the crew, Corrina Connor,*
sacrificed her own swim training time to be on hand for warm feeds for me. To
be so supported, so cared for, is a platform for success and when things got tough,
I dug deep and thought of all who had gone above and beyond to help me.
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| Spud Buds in Wellington |
Prior to getting to Ireland, there had been much contact with some of my old swimming friends. All of the crew from the 1996 and 1997 attempts – Brian Meharg, David Adams, Billy Wallace, Dermot Duffy – were part of the 2022 attempt, were on the boat or supporting before and after the swim. The 2022 crew on the boat, Sean Campbell and Grace Kerr have known and swum with me since I was in my teens. Afterwards there were parties (very good ones) with the swimming community from Bangor ASC, who I’d lived with daily in my teens: Moya Sloan, Julie Parkes, Jane and Claire Lightbody. To have the gift of communities and relationships in two parts of the world is mind-blowing.
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| Family and 1996 crew |
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| The Irish swim crew |
My family has been amazing. The journeys through adversity, cold, swells, rocking boats, and yes, retching after swims have created unbreakable bonds. To have one of my fantastic children crew on three of my swims has strengthened our relationship. My husband, children, mother, and father into whose lives I have delivered high levels of stress turn up again and again to feed, dress, drive, and support my passion, as do aunts, uncles, and cousins.
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| Aoife looking after her mother |
‘It was a 35-year swim in the making and we had a 5-second cry’ – Brian Meharg
This has been a swim at least 35 years in the
making. When I finished Brian and my mum looked at each other, hugged each
other, and burst into tears. Brian said ‘we were so delighted, after 35
years of trying we had done it. Me and her mum had a five-second cry and it was
back to it; we were just so busy.’ They were busy getting ready for me to get
back in the boat and caring for me as I recovered.
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| 2022 crew |
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| With Brian Meharg |
For me, it is hard to really fathom that the swim
has now been completed. Becoming the first Irish woman to swim the English
Channel changed my life. The North Channel, the failures, the adversities, the
friends, the connections, the discipline, the preparation, the support, the
journey to it and through it have defined my life, and it isn’t over yet!
*Editor’s note: she didn’t mind at all, thanks to regular doses of soup and coffee.
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