Man vs Ocean - One Man's Journey to Swim The World's Toughest Oceans

by Walker, Adam;

  It felt like the pressure was off, but I had been lured into a false sense of security so many times before, believing I was finished and then having to push hard again. When it comes to the ocean I have learned to not guarantee anything.

  This time, however, there were no last-minute currents or alarm bells and at eight hours I had my final feed. Nothing could stop me now – it was the last stretch. ‘Just one arm, then the other,’ I would tell myself, as I had done so many times before.

  The finish point for me was a sheer cliff face, a Jurassic-looking piece of rock on the South Island with no actual land to walk upon. As I approached the rocks I relived the same feeling that I had experienced on the previous five swims: it was one of relief and happiness that another one was ticked off the list. I tried to climb onto a sharp rock to get out. Gemma and Phil were shouting for me to come back, but I was determined to clear the water. I kept getting battered by the waves but I did clear it, grazing my leg in the process. It was acceptable according to the rules just to touch it, but I always want to make sure I clear the water if it’s possible.

  I swam back to the boat and climbed into the RIB. Phil took me back to the safety boat, my body was shaking due to the water temperature. I was mildly hypothermic. It had been a very overcast day and the air temperature didn’t help.

  On the way back, Gemma showed me some of the pictures she had taken, including a dolphin in mid-air with me breathing to the side of the boat, which looked incredible. The whole day had been one I would never forget and I was truly blessed. I took a call from TV One, a New Zealand television channel, to explain the dolphin and shark encounter and that I had made the crossing.

  It wasn’t until we got back to the hotel that I told Gemma about the shark underneath me. She said, ‘I’m glad I didn’t know – I would have wanted you out!’

  I told her I hadn’t wanted to draw attention to the situation – there was nothing that could be done and I would have feared Phil taking me out of the water. We watched some of the videos of the dolphins swimming next to me that Gemma had taken, which were surreal!

  The following day I rested and shared one of the videos with Danny Groves from the Whale and Dolphin Conservation charity, and I told him that it felt like the dolphins had protected me from a shark. (We will of course not know for sure as we don’t speak the same language.) After sending the video, I didn’t think anything else of it and went to bed.

  At around 2 a.m. New Zealand time I received a call from a reporter at the Daily Mail back in the UK. He had also received a picture we had sent to the charity of the dolphin in mid-air as I was breathing to the side. The reporter asked me whether the photo was real as it looked too amazing. I joked and said, ‘Unless my girlfriend left without me knowing in the middle of the swim and superimposed a dolphin into a shot, then its real.’

  A few hours later I woke up again. Struggling to sleep, I thought I would check my emails. I was totally shocked when I checked the video I had posted of the dolphins and saw that 25,000 people had watched it in two hours. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  That same day we were planning to visit the South Island again – but to arrive by ferry this time! One perk of having swum the Cook Strait is that you receive a free ferry pass. That day, the video was watched by 1 million people across the world. I was so excited and pleased that all those people had seen how amazing the dolphins were to stay with me for such a long period of time. I hoped it would create some significant exposure for the Whale and Dolphin Conservation.

  We stayed in the Marlborough wine area for a few days in a stunning hotel lodge owned by Heidi and Werner Pluss called ‘The Peppertree’. We toured vineyards and a chocolate factory before travelling further south and exploring more beautiful places. These included Wanaka, an incredible town on the edge of a crystal-clear lake that is surrounded by snow-capped mountains. Gemma and I fell in love with the place.

  The two weeks in New Zealand had been life-changing as a result of the dolphins. I don’t believe it was just coincidence that they were there – it felt like they had assessed the situation and come to my aid. I also believe there is a deeper spiritual meaning to our encounter; it was more than just to protect me. I had to find out what that was. When I went back home to the UK, I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened and how fortunate I had been to experience them for so long. It had changed me in a big way and I knew I had to do more to help educate people about marine animals.

  24

  A BIG CHANGE FOR A BRIGHTER FUTURE

  I went back to work with a new outlook on life and a strong sense of purpose. New Zealand had opened my eyes to what I was really passionate about and I knew I had to make some significant changes.

  The first change was my job. I had been thinking about swim coaching full-time for a while and now was the perfect time. I had to follow my dream in my work life as well as in my personal one. Gemma had been made redundant by her company six months previously and we had been doing swim camps together for just over eight months. We called the business Ocean Walker – it was actually Gemma’s dad who had come up with the name after joining us on a swim camp in Windermere. He noticed a book called Fell Walker in a hotel; he suggested the name in passing and, as obvious as it may seem, it just worked. I left Indesit with clarity and a real sense of excitement about what the future held.

  I love swim coaching and I am very passionate about it. I knew from going on a swim camp myself six years earlier that it would be my dream job to run training camps, coaching and motivating people to achieve their dreams. I realised that I could do this in other ways as well as through swim coaching. I took part in a voluntary scheme called Skype in the Classroom and told my Ocean’s Seven story to children in their classrooms and assemblies around the world. I began to receive enquiries for doing talks to schools and businesses, and it was an incredible feeling to know that what I had done so far could inspire people of different ages and different backgrounds to push for their own dreams and goals.

  Leaving my job at this point seemed like good timing as I had just three months to go before my final Ocean’s Seven swim, from Ireland to Scotland. It gave me the opportunity to train and put all my attention into getting across, which I had never had the luxury of before.

  I needed to do an official six-hour swim in 13-degree water as part of the rules for the North Channel, the reason being that the swim itself would be in a similar temperature and I would potentially be doing twice the distance. It is important to assess people’s capability for safety reasons and not to waste money and time.

  I decided to travel to Scotland to do this as I knew I would get the colder water I needed in order to replicate the temperature of the North Channel; where I lived in Nottingham was 3 degrees warmer. Gemma, our two dogs and my friend James Wilson, who was also a swimmer, travelled to Loch Lomond. James and I planned to swim around Inchmurrin, the biggest island in Loch Lomond. I needed to do my six hours and he planned to do a couple of hours. The island is a kilometre-long circuit and would be a good test. We stayed in a lovely apartment on the island, which was only accessible by boat. The dogs were very excited to go on the boat and I had to hold Rosie back from jumping in. I knew if Booie, my Newfoundland, had been there I wouldn’t have been able to stop her from throwing herself into the water and trying to swim across.

  We arrived just before midnight due to a four-and-a-half-hour traffic jam. We did our first swim the next evening for one hour, which was so peaceful in the loch. I loved being in the quiet and able to just hear the water trickle as I swam; feeling isolated from the world. When I’m in the water it gives me so much pleasure and that never changes for me. I always have the same excitement getting in and feeling like I belong in there. It was stunning looking at the sky with the stars – at that moment there was no better place to be.

  The following afternoon James and I did a two-hour swim together, which went according to plan. When I first started open-water swimming, two hours was a long time in
my mind, but when you have done much bigger swims, such as ten hours plus, your brain tells you that it is nothing and you have no excuse to get out of the water until the time is up.

  The third day was the planned six-hour swim, the main reason I had travelled all this way. I had a slow start to the morning. I can’t say I have ever enjoyed a six-hour session, if I’m being totally honest, but I’m not sure there would be many people who genuinely enjoy being face down for most of the day in cold water. I had to tick this swim off, not only to qualify for the North Channel swim, but also because, mentally, it would give me an extra boost leading up to it.

  Gemma came out in her kayak along with a bag full of goodies; she had made her vegetable soup and also brought some hot chocolate, water, sponge cakes and jelly sweets in preparation for our feeds. I did my normal talking to myself and joking with Gemma to deflect worried thoughts about the swim, and then I walked into the water. James decided to jump off the pontoon for a joke and came up gasping for air as the cold water took his breath away. I think he regretted it, by the look on his face.

  I gradually waded in, trying not to think about the temperature and joking that it was warm and no problem at all. I had continued to use this tactic after Chris and I started doing it while training for the English Channel. Over the years I had told myself so many times that the water was warm, and although deep down I knew it wasn’t I could trick my brain to thinking it was manageable. I joke that I have spent these last few years of training lying to myself and have created a false reality, albeit one that really does work.

  The plan was to do kilometre-long circuits around the beautiful island. Everything was fine up until two and a half hours into the swim, when I had terrible stomach ache and desperately needed the toilet. I thought about swimming back to the cottage for a second, but I knew I wouldn’t feel I had done a proper six-hour swim. I would have been disappointed and I needed to keep the positivity going leading up to my final Ocean’s Seven swim. I had never given up on a training session before due to this issue, so I couldn’t start now. After three hours, James got out of the water, which was the longest he had ever swum; a particularly great achievement in this temperature. He looked after the dogs and Gemma kayaked alongside me for safety. I completed the remaining three hours without too many issues and achieved my six-hour qualifier for the final swim.

  For seven years I had heard from various experienced people in the open-water swimming community that the North Channel is the hardest swim of the seven, the main reasons being the extreme cold water and the lion’s mane jellyfish. I did what I had done many times, which was to play it down in my mind and think back to the challenges I had survived in the previous swims. It couldn’t be as bad as some of them. I decided that, whatever happened, I would make other swimmers aware that the North Channel is perfectly achievable, in order not to affect their confidence. It had always worked for me not to overthink the swims or put unnecessary pressure on myself. It was still the ocean and the same principles applied: one arm in front of the other and keeping a positive mindset. Again I told myself, ‘If it’s simple in my mind, it’s simple in reality.’ I really believe you get what you focus on. A big positive with the situations that I had to overcome on the previous six swims is that they had made me stronger mentally. Whenever anyone would say to me, ‘Aren’t you scared of being stung by lion’s mane jellyfish?’ I would respond with, ‘It can’t be as bad as a Portuguese man o’ war!’ This usually cut the conversation dead.

  The Scottish trip was a short and productive one. I did what I had come to do, to get the qualifier done. Mental confidence is like a muscle: you have to work at it and the more you go through the stronger you become. What comes with experience is knowing your capabilities; if you have achieved your goals in training, there is less reason for your mind to create doubt about the real thing.

  I returned home and balanced my training between swimming in the pool, the lake and the occasional ocean swim at Sutton-on-Sea in Lincolnshire, with my friend Anthony Plant, who was preparing for his first big swim, the English Channel. I did a few two- or three-hour swims in June and then went to Cork, Ireland, on a training camp. The camp is run by a very experienced swimmer, Ned Denison, and is designed to test swimmers to their limit, both physically and mentally. I went for the week and covered over 50 kilometres, including completing another three- and six-hour swim. I was purposely keeping the number of six-hour swims to a minimum after the Cook Strait, as even with the new stroke technique I was conscious not to overuse my bad shoulder since I now had one less biceps tendon fibre in my arm.

  25

  SWIM #7 NORTH CHANNEL – ONE MORE SWIM TO COMPLETE AN UNIMAGINABLE DREAM

  My scheduled date for the North Channel swim was the week commencing 4 August. Gemma and I flew to Northern Ireland on the 1st. It was great to have a short flight of forty-five minutes and no time zone difference as I had with most of my other swims. We arrived and checked into a local bed and breakfast, which was just fifteen minutes’ drive from Donaghadee, the start point for the swim.

  We met up the next day with Quinton, my pilot for the crossing, so he could update us with all the details for the swim. I had a checklist of everything I could think of to ask about the swim; even though I had now completed six channels, there are always differences and each pilot has their own way of doing things. I immediately liked Quinton – he had a laid-back approach and made me feel instantly at ease. It is really important to me that I feel relaxed with the pilot and have 100 per cent trust in them, as I am in their hands for a number of potentially dangerous hours and they can make the difference between completing the swim or not. I had become a little more nervous after Hawaii – and, as it turned out, it was the best thing that happened to me, the reason being that I had to stretch myself and dig deep in order to finish the swim. I am grateful for how it turned out in the end.

  Quinton came highly recommended as he had vast experience. He told me I should aim to finish within twelve hours, otherwise I was likely to be pushed back with the tide and would potentially have to wait another four hours for the tide to subside in order to reach land. I smiled; I had faced this issue many times on my swims and this was a normal obstacle in my mind. I had written down some questions which were comprehensively answered and I felt happy and relaxed.

  I received the call on Sunday to say that there was no chance of swimming on Monday due to weather. Since we had arrived in Northern Ireland it had rained on and off every day, with thunderstorms and strong winds. Quinton phoned again on the Tuesday morning to say it was also looking doubtful for Wednesday, and if we didn’t go before Thursday there was a good chance we wouldn’t go at all. He agreed to phone again at 3 p.m. to confirm 100 per cent either way. When I received the call, he said the weather hadn’t worsened and after checking again at 9 p.m. we agreed to meet at 6.30 a.m. on Wednesday, hopefully to swim.

  I had originally planned for my brother Mark to come on the boat along with BBC television presenter Paul Bradshaw who was going to film the swim. I was concerned that, if the swim didn’t go ahead, they would both make a wasted journey; it was a long distance for both of them to travel. I couldn’t give either of them a definite response until the actual point of arriving that morning, after assessing the conditions and deciding whether to go for it or not. Mark said he would travel to Scotland the next day if I did end up doing the swim, and I had ultimately advised Paul not to come at all.

  There was now a chance we would be going, so I had to focus my mind back onto the swim; nothing else mattered. The mental uncertainty that comes with ocean-swimming can be frustrating, I was now very experienced with this and I knew it was important to not waste any unnecessary energy. Although the swim never fully leaves you, a few days beforehand you have to focus your mind onto other things.

  I decided, just one more time, to watch the movie that had triggered this journey for me and changed my life for ever. I had lost count of how many times I had watched On a Clear Day, bu
t the movie always gave me such great motivation; I would watch over and over certain parts that inspired me to never give up. My favourite part is where Frank tells his friends in the middle of the English Channel that he wants to get out and give up. His friend then says to him, ‘All my life I’ve looked up to you, Frank, all my life I never seen you back down from anything! You shut up about how much it hurts ’cos you don’t have a choice – you never did!’ I thought, ‘I don’t have a choice either – I never did! It is my destiny to complete this challenge, therefore I cannot give up.’ I had repeated this line to myself many times in training and especially in Hawaii when I was in such agony during the Molokai swim, to keep pushing myself and to carry on no matter what.

  I went to bed around 11 p.m. and listened to the same motivational CDs I had played over and over again during the last few years. They had served me so well in terms of keeping me focused and determined.

  I didn’t have a lot of sleep – maybe four hours or so. The alarm went off at 5 a.m. and I was full of anticipation that we would be able to attempt the swim.

  We left at 5.40 a.m. and arrived at the boat in Donaghadee just before 6. Quinton’s team were there waiting. He said, ‘It looks OK at the moment – what do you want to do?’

  I joked, saying, ‘Another fifty-fifty chance of good or bad weather? Yeah, let’s go for it!’

  As in Japan, I went with my instincts. It really is hard to know what to do in situations like this; if I say no and wait for better conditions, I might not have another chance to swim for the rest of the year. Alternatively I say yes and the weather is too bad to complete the swim. The competitive side of me wants to say I’ll take on a swim whatever the conditions, but the ocean is no place to be macho; if you are going to take it on you need a fighting chance, otherwise it will show its dominance and make you suffer. And the suffering is not always quick: it can be ongoing and energy-sapping, seemingly never-ending, and continue to punish you for hours.