• First person to swim around the Cape of Good Hope—one of the world’s roughest stretches of water—as well as the Cape Peninsula.
• First person to swim the length of the world’s second-largest fjord, Sognefjord in Norway. (The world’s largest fjord is permanently frozen.)
• Recordholder for the most southern swim (off of Petermann Island in Antarctica) and the most northern swim (off the island of Spitsbergen 600 miles from the North Pole).
• First person to complete the “Holy Grail of Swimming”—long-distance swims in all five of the world’s oceans (Atlantic, Indian, Pacific, Arctic, and Southern).
THE HUMAN POLAR BEAR
It was his focus on cold-water swimming that brought Pugh the most attention—and earned him the nickname the “Human Polar Bear.” In July 2007, he became the first person to complete a long-distance swim at the North Pole. He swam almost a mile (actually 0.62 mile) in 18 minutes and 50 seconds in the coldest water a human being has ever dived into on purpose—the temperatures ranged from just 29° to 32° F.
The average person has a 50 percent chance of surviving a 50-yard swim in 50° F water. Hypothermia will set in almost immediately, and after just minutes, the person’s hands and feet should lose circulation and become virtually useless. So, during his North Pole dip, Pugh should’ve been incapacitated almost immediately—especially since he followed the Channel Swimming Association regulations (for swimming the English Channel). Those rules dictate what a swimmer can wear for his immersion in the water to be registered: a swimsuit, goggles, ear plugs, a nose clip, and a cap. That’s it.
So how does Pugh do it? How can he immerse himself in such cold water for such long periods of time and survive? No one’s sure exactly how, but scientists who have studied him know that his body definitely prepares for the swims. In fact, they coined a new term for what Pugh’s body is capable of: “anticipatory thermogenesis.”
A SWIMMING STUDY
Actually, Tim Noakes, a professor of exercise and sports science at the University of Cape Town, is the one who coined the term anticipatory thermogenesis, which means the body creates heat prior to an event. Pugh seems to elevate his body temperature mentally—by standing near the water and getting himself ready for a swim. Pugh won’t put even a toe in the water first, because the extreme cold will make him not want to go in. Instead, when he’s ready, he dives in and tells himself that the only way to get out of the water is to reach his goal.
In 2005, Pugh swam in Antarctica and allowed scientists to study his internal body temperature. Before getting in the water, his body prepared for the shock of it by rising to 101°F, a temperature most people experience only when they have a fever. He began to sweat, despite the cold outside. Then he dove in, and when he ended the swim, his internal temperature had dropped to 96.8°F.
The body’s natural reaction to extreme cold is to protect vital organs by collecting blood in key areas (around the heart and lungs, for example). When Pugh got out of the water, his body started to send blood back throughout his extremities. The result was that within seconds of leaving the water, Pugh’s body temperature had plummeted to 91.4°F. And the temperature of his muscles was measured at 86°F—life-threatening for most people.
For Pugh, though, it was no problem. He just took a long, hot shower—his typical post-swim routine. After the shower, he put on shorts and a T-shirt and was back to normal.
In fact, it seems that only one thing really worries Pugh: leopard seals. Although he’s swum in waters with sharks, hippos, jellyfish, and polar bears, Pugh really watches out for leopard seals. In 2006, he told National Geographic, “They’re killers. If my team spots one, they’ll pull me out of the water.”
DIVING INTO CLIMATE CHANGE
Pugh is famous for being a long-distance swimmer, but he’s also a maritime lawyer and avid environmentalist. He typically uses his swims to show the world what goes on at the extreme reaches of the planet. He said,
Through my swims, I have had a unique perspective on climate change. I have witnessed retreating glaciers, decreasing sea ice, coral bleaching, severe droughts, and the migration of animals to colder climates. It’s as a result of these experiences that I am determined to do my bit to raise awareness about the fragility of our environment and to encourage everyone to take action.
THE BRAVE NEW WORLD AWARD
DNA Property Rights
On a cold, northern island country the size of Kentucky lives a population
whose genetic makeup has hardly changed since the first explorers set
foot on its rocky shores 1,200 years ago. But what seemed
like a boon for one researcher and the scientific
community was a bust for people’s privacy.
VIKING HERITAGE
Iceland’s population of about 300,000 people still has the DNA of the Vikings, and the population remains remarkably homogeneous. Iceland is geographically isolated and the country is methodical about record-keeping and genealogy. Detailed medical records have been kept since 1915, and about 80 percent of the Icelanders who ever lived can be traced on family trees.
Considering that Iceland is one of the most developed countries in the world—with a prolific economy, progressive government, and a proud cultural heritage—it’s hard to believe that its genetic heritage is more pure than that of many isolated indigenous tribes. Yet because of its relatively slow settlement, the population has remained stable and almost entirely Nordic. (The island was not officially settled until the 9th century.)
TRUE-BLUE GENES
In 1999, Kari Stefansson, a Harvard Medical School professor and native Icelander, founded a corporation called deCODE to collect and study Icelanders’ DNA data. Stefansson thought that careful study of Icelanders’ genes would give medical science an unprecedented chance to work backward and unravel the roots of illnesses like heart disease and cancer. Syndromes could be charted back through families and their causes might be more easily identifiable.
To complete his project, Stefansson made a remarkable deal with the Icelandic government: The government promised his company access to the nation’s health records and he promised that the population would cooperate in the study, though people who did not want to take part could opt out under a special clause in the contract.
VOLCANO IN A GOLD MINE
The deal quickly started to smell fishy to Icelanders. Giving a single company control of an entire nation’s health records seemed suspect to people outside of Iceland, too, who recognized that this deal could have privacy implications for other societies and countries around the globe.
Many people in Iceland did sign up for the study (about 135,000 adults), but they also opted out in large numbers. Stefansson’s company tried to bounce back, saying that deCODE would fund drugs for citizens whose DNA indicated predisposition to things like heart disease. However, when a woman named Ragn-hildur Gudmundsdottir not only blocked deCODE from her health records but also her deceased father’s records, the tempest became more serious. Iceland’s supreme court finally ruled that the database Stefansson was trying to create was unconstitutional because it did not adequately protect personal privacy. Eventually, the project was completely scrapped, and in 2004 the Icelandic government finally ruled that the entire deCODE project was a violation of privacy rights.
THE HUMAN LEAGUE
The Icelandic DNA saga may be at a temporary halt, but its narrative has a lot to say about how we are going to obtain, track, store, analyze, and protect genetic information. Deciding to whom DNA belongs is tricky. For example, a parent may donate a tissue sample from a desperately ill child, hoping that a cure will be found, only to discover that that tissue sample is being held hostage by a hospital trying to get more money for its research (as happened in 1998 at Miami Children’s Hospital with a gene for Canavan disease).
Because even the smallest snip of DNA contains every bit of information about what makes you . . . well, you, . . . its storage can have widespread imp
lications. As science and technology progress, it may also have even more serious consequences.
Someday, someone—or, more likely, some company—may own your DNA. Patents on genomes will no longer be the stuff of science-fiction novels, but of common court battles. Iceland’s pure DNA has given us a glimpse at the implications of both future scientific breakthroughs as well as personal privacy issues..
ICELAND INFO
• According to the Human Development Index—which ranks countries based on qualities like their standard of living, literacy rates, and life expectancy—Iceland is one of the two most developed countries in the world. (Norway is the other.)
• Even though Iceland is about 600 miles from its closest European neighbor (Norway), most people still consider it to be a part of Scandinavia because of its cultural connection to the main Scandinavian countries: Denmark, Sweden, and Norway.
• The record high temperature for Iceland’s capital of Reykjavik is 76.6°F, recorded in 2004. The record low:–12.1°F, recorded in 1918.
• The Norsemen from Scandinavia, who arrived on Iceland in the 9th century, are the country’s most famous “first” settlers. But the real first settlers were Irish monks who came in the 8th century and left when the Norsemen arrived.
• Only about one fifth of Iceland is inhabited.
• Most famous Icelander: singer Björk.
• Other names you might recognize: bands Sigur Rós and Mezzo-forte, Nobel Prize-winning author Halldór Laxness, and explorer Leif Ericsson.
THE LOST AND FOUN D AWARD
A Confederacy of Dunces
John Kennedy Toole lost his battle with depression, but
he left behind two amazing stories: one is his novel,
and the other is the tale of how it got published.
A WORK IN PROGRESS
After he graduated from college, the future looked bright for Toole. He had earned a master’s degree in English literature from Columbia University and then became a professor, first at the University of Southwestern Louisiana and then at Hunter College in New York. After being drafted into the military in 1961 at the age of 23, he even had ample time to work on his novel, which he called A Confederacy of Dunces after the line by Jonathan Swift:
When a true genius appears, you can know him by this sign: that all the dunces are in a confederacy against him.
Toole began working on a draft of the book while stationed in Puerto Rico, where he taught English to Spanish-speaking recruits. When his time in the Army was over, he moved back in with his parents and began teaching at St. Mary’s Dominican College in New Orleans, completing the novel in his spare time and hoping to get it published.
THE BIG EASY
The book follows New Orleans resident Ignatius J. Reilly—who gets arrested in the first few pages—as he searches for a job, finds one, makes a mess of it, and moves on to another job. Like a series of falling comic dominoes, A Confederacy of Dunces sees one outrageous event lead to another. All along, the obese (and gassy) Ignatius works on his own book of comparative history—hilariously drawing conclusions from modern life—and writing letters back and forth to a woman named Myrna, whom Ignatius can’t stand (her views are the opposite of his on almost everything) but also can’t help but love.
Particularly interesting is the relationship between Ignatius and his doting and long-suffering mother. They spend much of the novel driving each other crazy—but always to comic effect.
CULTURE SHOCK
After his stint in the Army, Toole should have been on top of the world. His writing was going well, he was smart, and his teaching career showed great promise. But something wasn’t right.
Although he was a popular teacher at New Orleans’s Dominican College, he was still living at home, supporting his parents, and dealing with his domineering mother. He had what he felt was a great unpublished book on his hands, and an editor at Simon & Schuster showed interest in the work but also seemed reluctant to commit to its publication. After two years of revisions and conversations, the editor still thought the book needed work before it could be published. At the same time, Toole was struggling with sexual identity issues. He felt trapped in the closet and repressed by his family and the views of society at large. He was becoming further removed from the world around him.
In early 1969, Toole and his mother had a huge fight. This time Toole left town. He drove to California, then to Georgia to visit the home of one of his literary heroes, the late author Flan-nery O’Connor. He’d been away from New Orleans for just two months but had gotten progressively more depressed. Then, on March 26, 1969, in Biloxi, Mississippi, Toole stopped on an isolated road, ran a garden hose from his car’s tailpipe into the driver’s side window, and sat back. It was the end for Toole, but it was just the beginning for A Confederacy of Dunces.
DUNCE CAPPER
Thelma Toole waited until after her husband died in 1974 to continue her son’s attempts to get A Confederacy of Dunces published. From that point on, she worked tirelessly in her mission, taking it to publisher after publisher and racking up rejection notices.
When she noticed that Southern author Walker Percy was giving a writing seminar in town, Thelma took the manuscript and thrust it at him. Percy had published three novels by then, and he was used to reading bad manuscripts from people who thought they deserved to be published. In this case, however, the manuscript was good, and he was hooked almost immediately. Percy’s help got the novel published in 1980 by Louisiana State University Press. At the end of his foreword to the book, Percy wrote:
It is a pity that John Kennedy Toole is not alive and well and writing. But he is not, and there is nothing we can do about it but make sure that this gargantuan, tumultuous human comedy is at least made available to a world of readers.
Almost immediately, the novel received massive acclaim. Critics praised it with fervor, in particular because of the heart-tugging story behind its publication: a mother who fought desperately for years to get her deceased son’s legacy into print.
MOMMIE DEAREST?
Years later, Joel Fletcher, a friend of both Toole and his mother, wrote about the story behind the publication of A Confederacy of Dunces in his own book, Ken & Thelma. (“Ken” was a familiar nickname for John Kennedy Toole.) He noted that Thelma loved the spotlight and had her own desire for fame and acclaim. While she always maintained that her work to get the book published was done out of love for her son, Fletcher’s work suggests there was far more to it. Perhaps the domineering mother still wanted control.
It’s hard to say what the truth is behind the troubled and complex dynamic of this mother and son. What can be said, though, is that Thelma Toole, who died in 1984, lived long enough to see two milestones pass after her son’s death: the publication of his master work and its receiving the Pulitzer Prize in 1981. Today, there are over 1.5 millions copies in print in more than 18 languages. An executive at 20th Century Fox has spent 27 years attempting to get a movie version made. Even Ignatius J. Reilly would be proud of those accomplishments.
THE I SPY AWARD
Benedict Arnold
The walls of the Old Cadet Chapel in the West Point Cemetery are covered
with plaques and medallions that highlight the brave deeds of America’s
early military heroes. But one plaque close to the altar is different
from the others. The name once etched there—Benedict Arnold—
has been scratched out. But if that wall is for heroes, why
was a traitor like Arnold included there at all?
ONCE, TWICE, THREE TIMES A HERO
At the start of the Revolutionary War in 1775, apothecary Benedict Arnold of New Haven, Connecticut, was a captain of the colonial militia and devoted to the cause of America’s freedom. Between 1775 and 1777, he managed to accomplish some astonishing feats: He fought at the Battle of Lexington and Concord, attacked and secured Fort Ticonderoga, made the first amphibious assault in American history, and so brilliantly plan
ned the Battle of Saratoga that a contemporary called him “the very genius of war.” Even more, Arnold fought and led his men through some of the most treacherous terrain in North America, scaling cliffs, negotiating rapids, and enduring famine so terrible that some soldiers ate their leather moccasins.
Yet of each of Arnold’s victories was tinged with failure, and his intelligence and bravery were matched by impulsive, self-serving behavior: Arnold raced Ethan Allen’s Green Mountain Boys to Ticonderoga in 1775, for example, so that he could claim that victory, but then he submitted an inflated expense report for the venture.
A LEG UP
In the middle of the struggle at Saratoga, American commander General Horatio Gates relieved Arnold of his command, partly for insubordination and partly because Gates considered him a “pompous little fellow.” Arnold charged into battle anyway, “conveniently ignoring the fact that he had no official command,” wrote one historian. The sight of Arnold on horseback reinvigorated the troops, who fought back so hard that the British collapsed.
Arnold’s actions also directly led to securing French aid that helped speed the infant United States to victory. There’s even a memorial to Benedict Arnold’s . . . er, leg at the Saratoga battlefield. It is a sculpted left leg, elegantly booted, standing by itself on what appears to be a cannon, with a brief inscription: “In memory of the most brilliant soldier of the Continental Army who was desperately wounded on this spot . . . winning for his countrymen the Decisive Battle of the American Revolution and for himself the rank of Major General.”
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