Guest Blog: Fastnet – Swimming from ‘Ireland’s Teardrop’ – The History and Heritage Swim

This is the second installment of Gráinne's visit to Ireland in July and August of 2022. Having just completed a crossing of the North Channel, one of the hardest of all marathon swims, she sought further adventure ...

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As I plunged into the black Atlantic Ocean at the farthest tip of Southwest Ireland under the intimidating Fastnet lighthouse at 5am on the 5th August 2022 I was enveloped with a wonder. 

I was astonished at the extreme sense of serenity I felt despite being, literally, a little drop in the 41 million square miles of the second-largest ocean in the world. Whilst I had planned to be in Ireland in August 2022 I hadn’t expected to be here, so how had this happened?

A Double Triple Crown? A week and a half after completing the arduous North Channel, my mind started to ponder the 21km Fastnet Rock Swim.

 I started to think ‘could I squeeze this swim in before returning to New Zealand and complete a “Double Triple Crown” in one year?’ The New Zealand Open Water Triple Crown I had completed in March 2022 when I conquered Te -Ara-A-Kiwa/Foveaux Strait. Having already completed Galway Bay in 1986 and the North Channel, could I do the final swim of the Irish Triple Crown – the Fastnet, a swim like Foveaux, one of The Toughest Thirteen. 

If you don’t ask you will never know On Tuesday 2 August I thought, ‘well let’s ask.’ I dropped an email to the organisers of the Fastnet swim. I told them a little bit about myself and asked if they had any “slots” on the upcoming tides. They came back on 3 August, letting me know they did – Friday 5th August. The thinking started. 

I called my mum and dad into the kitchen and outlined the option of doing the swim, asking them if they thought I, and we, were taking on too much. There was much to consider, as we had lots of family visiting and that was before we thought about the actual swim and whether I was recovered enough from the demanding North Channel swim.

So many wise heads As with all big decisions, taking advice is important. I talked with mum and dad, my swim buddies, Grace, Sean and Brian who had been on my North Channel boat, and famous swimmers in Ireland and NZ. Grace, who had a slot to attempt Fastnet on Saturday 6 August, told me it was tough to get a slot so I should take it. Brian kept an eye on all weather forecasts.  Sean reflected on my North Channel swim, discussing the risk of cumulative tiredness. I probably had still had a level of jet lag when I swam the North Channel  which on top of the difficult swim might be a worry. However, he looked and me, smiled and said, ‘but you are swimming great you should give it a lash.’ The final piece of the puzzle was to message the first swimmer to ever do the Oceans Seven, Stephen Redmond , and ask him his thoughts. He replied ‘go for it, weather getting better, Noel and Nathan are great (organisers), skipper is spot on. Only problem is where to stay, everything booked solid.’

I send a text to the organisers saying, ‘yes please, I would like to go.’ And we were off! 

My mum, Aoife, and I hired a car and drove over 530 kilometres to Skibbereen where we had booked the last remaining triple room in the district. The room was above a pub and our three single beds, whilst very comfortable, where so close together we could all hold hands (we didn’t!).

On arrival I spoke to matriarch of the B&B and said ‘We are getting up early so where shall I leave the room key?’ She confidently replied, ‘I’ll be up!’ I said ‘we are leaving at 3am.’ She laughed and said, ‘No, I won’t be up – leave the key in the room.’ They did kindly apply a ‘no breakfast’ discount.

History, famine, poverty A walk around Skibbereen is sobering – the bustling town on that summer evening was full of people chatting eating and enjoying what in Ireland is called a bit of  ‘Craic’ (good times). Skibbereen and the surrounding area was one of the areas hit worst during The Great Hunger, or Great Famine of 1845–1852. The memory of that is visible on information boards, statues, and gravestones.

Site of Famine Burial Pits at Abbeystrowery

Sharing a room before a swim is a good thing Getting sleep before a major swim is always challenging. When I have been in a room on my own, there is the temptation to get up, have a drink, check your phone, and wander around as you try to sleep but you cannot due to the nervousness and anxiety of knowing what you are undertaking the next day. When you share a room with others you must ‘pretend’ to be asleep. You stay as still as possible as you don’t want to disturb anyone else. Eventually, the pretence of sleep becomes real sleep: it's broken and restless but still more sleep that I would get in a room on my own. Please note I was sharing with Aoife (one of my children) and my mum – both are excellent roommates who don't snore! If your roommates aren't as well trained, a room alone may be a better option!

Starry Starry Night We were up at 2.30am and out of the B&B about 20 minutes later to see a spectacular clear starry sky. We drove on dark country roads the last 13km to the pier in Baltimore arriving a little before 3.30am. We could see a the ‘Radiance’ with its lights on and we headed towards that. On the pier we met Kiernan, the Radiance skipper and Nathan, the official observer and organiser of the swim. As we were about to cast off and get underway, we spotted a flashing light in the harbour which appeared to be on a life jacket. The ‘Radiance’ motored over to the light, and we all had our hearts in our mouths – please God this wouldn’t be a ghastly find and a terrible omen. It wasn’t. It was just a lifejacket with no-one in it probably set off by accident the day before. 

Off we sailed toward the Fastnet Lighthouse. I lay down on the boat and tried to conserve my energy. An hour and a half later I got the shout to start getting ready. It was still dark, and there was quite a swell. The lighthouse, which is Ireland’s tallest and arguably most iconic lighthouse dominated the skyline. 

Getting the final preparations complete on the boat with the swell was a little discombobulating compared to the North Channel where I had got ready on land and hopped onto the boat for the ten-minute journey to the start.

I jumped off the boat and plunged into the darkness. I swam towards the commanding rock on which the lighthouse stands, on my way hitting with my hand something firm – a jellyfish or seal maybe…I quickly closed off the thinking part of my brain and focused on the boat. The ‘whistle blew’ and I was off.

Plunging into the darkness below the Fastnet Lighthouse The team on the boat has said to me: ‘you are a little against the tide for the first two hours so swim hard but not too hard that you can’t swim more, then once the two hours have passed the tide will be in your favour.’  I set off at a reasonable pace, wondering if any of the potential cumulative fatigue of the North Channel would make me feel colder or swim slower or if a wave of tiredness would unexpectedly arrive. 

Its hard to put into words the wonder I felt out there in the dark, miles away from land, swimming from the most historic and iconic lighthouse in Ireland.  The rock on which is sits is known as “Ireland’s Teardrop” because it was the last part of Ireland that millions of emigrants saw as they sailed to North America. 

The first feed over I swam on, a blood red sun was rising and coated the dark sea with a layer of crimson colour.  My arms felt cold, and I wondered if this was being driven by the previous swim. However, the observers report which I read after the swim tells me – it was cold!

Bilateral breathing is a must for all open-water swimmers There was a wind coming from my left. Kiernan the skipper asked me if I could bilateral breath. I said yes. Right hand side breathing has always been my preference but over the years I have developed more and more ease with breathing to the left. This swim was the moment when all that preparation paid off as the Radiance was on my left providing a level of shelter from the wind.

A couple of hours into the swim a golden sun had risen and I asked ‘who turned the heating on? This is great!’

The heating had come on!

Wonder and beauty As the swim continued, I enjoyed it more and more. ‘This,’ I said to myself ‘is what long-distance swimming is about’ – feeling at one with nature, admiring the coastline as I swam past it, catching a peek of some fish life below me, sun shining through clouds.  It was joyous, beautiful and soooooo much more fun than the North Channel. 

I deliberately didn’t try and guess how far I had come. I find it avoids disappointment – knowing how much longer it will take won’t get you any closer to the finish. When we came into the ‘heads’ the crew said to me “can you swim hard for the next 45 minutes”. I said yep, thinking maybe there is a bit of a current here to push through. 

About 30 minutes later the team stopped me and said ‘this is your last feed stop,’ which was some flat coke … I was quietly elated … wow, this swim was going so well.  I continued to swim hard and began to realise that I was getting close to the finish, passing the boats moored in the harbour. I could see the slipway that I had to walk up to finish the swim. As I came to the slipway and came out of the water, there was Noel Browne, who gave me a great big hug and said ‘Congratulations you have set a new women’s record!’

At this point, my face crumpled and contorted, as I became overcome with emotion and was overwhelmed thinking about both the swims I had completed over the last two weeks and how I travelled across the globe back home to complete them.

The Fastnet swim has been The Final Challenge for Stephen Redmond, the first person to swim the Oceans 7. Completing this swim, I can understand why. There is so much Irish history connected to Fasnet. At primary school I was one of the two ‘St Malachy's Singers’ and one of our songs was Shores of Amerikay.   All about those who had to leave, words such as “With an aching heart I bid them adieu, over the raging foam for to seek our home”

At 11 years of age, singing in school halls, I had no conception that I may one day swim from the lighthouse and rock that so many Irish passed, hearts breaking, desperately sad, tears flowing as they left home. Their other options were famine, terrorism, and poverty.  Many of them went to a new world, hoping for better for themselves and their children. For some, it has worked out well, for others the challenges they face because of their heritage continues. We hope that the need to leave any country stops.