Six Old Goats Set an English Channel World Record

 

 Duke Dahlin - Preamble

Duke Dahlin

The story of setting a new American record for swimming across the English Channel began about 26 years ago when I joined the Dolphin Club.  I just wanted to get as far away from Masters pool competition as I could. Outdoor swimming was more fun, exciting, and challenging. I joined a swim pod that consisted of Laura Burtch, Becky Fenson, John Selmer, and Heather Royer. Laura and John had already successfully swum the English Channel. Then Becky followed soon afterward. After Heather completed her Channel swim, I made my second attempt when I was 55 on August 8, 2003, and successfully finished in 14hrs 37mins. John Ottersberg was my coach on the escort boat Sea Satin piloted by Lance Oram from the Channel Swimming & Pilot Federation (CS&PF).

During the Polar Bear season of 2015-16, I had just retired from work and was thinking of another English Channel attempt. My goal was to be the oldest successful solo swimmer. Before I did that, I figured I needed to see where my mind and body were. In 2004, George Kebbe set a new PB record of 356 miles. Ralph Wenzel (2007) and Peter Perez (2013) both tied that number I had been thinking about breaking that record for years, but it would have to be by a lot.  My goal was 400 miles. 

After I set the new PB record, I kept mulling over another English Channel swim. I had heard several years ago that a 73-year-old man was the oldest successful Channel swimmer. I thought, okay I’ll wait until I’m 75. Why 75? I liked how the number sounded. In 2021, I started the process of booking my escort boat, the Sea Satin. I wanted to go with Lance again. I was given a swim window of August 16-22, 2023. In order to be totally prepared in 2021, I reserved a pilot boat for a Catalina Channel swim in 2021. 

My organization was coming together and I started to get excited. But my plans were thwarted by medical problems. The San Francisco Veterans Administration Medical Center did some tests and said I needed surgery on my left-rotator cuff, and repairs to the bicep. I canceled the Catalina swim and concentrated on the English Channel. By July 2022, the PT for my shoulder was going great, but I now had shortness of breath. I did a cardiovascular “stress test” and was diagnosed with Peripheral Arterial Disease. My VA doctor discovered that 95% of my left artery was blocked, and they put in a stent.  The doctors signed off on my English Channel solo swim, but my body and mind told me to reconsider.

After a lot of thought, on December 16, 2022, I decided I wasn’t ready for a solo crossing. With my continued shortness of breath, I moved forward with a backup plan—to organize a 6-person mixed relay team of people 70 and over.  Putting together a 70+ relay team from the DC wasn’t as easy I thought it would be. It wasn’t until May when the team was finalized and it was worth the wait. The final team consisted of Sunny McKee, Tom Neill, Julian Sapirstein, Joni Beemsterboer, John Hornor, and me. With no backups, this was our only shot at a world record. 

Team Feet in Dover

Both Sunny & Joni had previous EC relay experience from the 80s and 90s. Tom had swum both the Catalina Channel and the length of Lake Tahoe. Julian and John were a little less experienced, but one hundred percent committed. Our training started off rough. On March 11, three of our swimmers could not finish their 30-minute swim. But on the April 22 swim, everyone did a bit better. A rocky start to be sure. Then by June 27 I was surprised and relieved when all of us Old Goats completed the qualifier swim long before the conservative July 1 target date that I had set for us.

Julian Sapirstein, my husband Joel, and I arrived at Heathrow on August 12. That morning, I received a text from our pilot to ask if the team was ready. With Sunny and John arriving early in the afternoon, and Tom and Joni arriving later that evening, I knew we were. Lance asked that our team meet him at the Marina gate in Dover at 10:15pm August 15. It was an incredibly nervous and excited bunch of swimmers who met him that evening.

Once we got to the Sea Satin, Lance explained the rules and regulations, and introduced us to his crew, Tanya and Mia, and Martin, the official observer. We headed to Shakespeare Beach – about 30 minutes from Dover harbor. As the boat started to maneuver outside of the marina, we could feel it rocking dramatically back and forth and side to side.

Duke Dahlin - 11:10pm to 12:10am – 1^st hour 

Team at the Sea Satin
John Hornor, Joni Beemsterboer,
Julian Sapirstein, Tom Neil,
Sunny McKee, Duke

I must confess, I do not like swimming in the dark—especially when the water is choppy. The Sea Satin shined a beacon of light onto Shakespeare Beach to guide me. As the first swimmer, it was my job to find the beach, emerge completely from the water, and then officially start the swim. Finding a beach in the dark of night wasn’t all that easy even with the spotlight from the boat. But after a minute or so I walked onto land. The lights on the Sea Satin flashed, signaling me to begin. Deep breaths. Time to go.

The water temperature was very comfortable, maybe 65F, but the conditions made it difficult to stay calm and breathe comfortably. I thought about my commitment to the team and told myself to just stay relaxed, remain calm, and keep swimming. There were times when I was ahead of the boat, and times when I was slightly behind. During the first half of my swim, I learned to adapt to the speed of the boat and “go with the flow.” At the end of my hour, I was proud that I had persevered.

Sunny McKee - 12:10am to 1:10am – 2^nd hour 

The good news is when we met at 9:45 Tues. night, Aug. 15, the winds seemed to dissipate. I remember sending a text to my family that said “pretty clear and almost no wind.”  The myth of “almost no wind” was quickly dispelled as we left the calm waters of the protected harbor. It was a beautiful clear night though.

After Duke had swum for about 30 minutes, the observer went over the rules: the current swimmers must swim for one hour. The upcoming swimmer must be standing on the platform at 58 minutes, and when the siren goes off, the upcoming swimmer jumps in and floats behind the current swimmer. The current swimmer swims to the boat and exits the water. Any violation and it’s an instant disqualification. 

The siren goes off and I jump into the water. I have opted to have a spotlight from the boat on me while I swim. This was a mistake because I was truly blinded. The time signal that we had planned didn’t work because the spotlight was so blinding – I would have to stop swimming to really see the whiteboard with the time.  My constant mantra: “I do not want to cause our team to fail.”

One hour later, the siren sounds and I climb onboard so happy to be alive! The first person I see is Duke and we both start laughing and embrace. I laughed so hard. This was one of my favorite moments of this challenge.

Tom Neill - 1:10 to 2:10am – 3^rd hour

Tom in the Channel

The pilot boat was not well-lit onboard, and the darkness added to my nerves as I looked for
my equipment. It was simple: Just a cap, ear plugs, low light goggles and swim suit. I plunged in the dark choppy water.

I swam past Sunny, as she completed her first leg and was left alone in the dark with a few lights on the boat. Nerves and excitement pushed me along and soon I passed the bow and kept swimming into the darkness. I focused on my stroke. My attention was broken by shouts from the boat. I stopped and was told that I was swimming towards England. The boat turned me around and we headed back towards France.

It seemed like a very long leg, and I became impatient and tired of the repeated chop which caused me to exaggerate my rotation for air and repeatedly filled my nose with sea water. Finally, my hour was over. I did not hear the siren but did notice the light flashing across my face. I was very happy. 

Julian Sapirstein - 2:10 to 3:10am – 4^th hour 

That first swim was the hardest, starting in the pitch black and rough water. The boat was going in fits and starts, so sometimes it was ahead, sometimes behind and sometimes right beside me. Being ahead of the boat was particularly distressing because I didn't expect it and its location was not immediately obvious. The water was warm, so I didn't fear hypothermia, but the stress of night swimming took a toll and I was shivering when I got out at the end of the hour. The rough water and darkness had been a challenge, but I felt good after finishing, knowing that my next swim would be in daylight.

Joni Beemsterboer - 3:10 to 4:10am - 5^th hour

As Julian climbed aboard, I headed into the darkness. Soon the team shouted that I was too far out. The current made the correction difficult. There were moments when it felt like the water calmed and I could get into my rhythm only to be knocked by a wave or two. Some Channel swimmers report lumpiness in the water—an apt description. The goal is to find that swim zone that makes each stroke feel rewarding, satisfying and ideally productive. Such zones were fleeting. It was so damn dark.

John Hornor - 4:10am to 5:10am – 6^th hour

I’d mostly recovered from partial knee replacement (12/10/21) and rotator cuff repair (5/6/22) but recovery had limited my usual exercise routine, so after I said yes to Duke’s invitation to join the relay team I knew I had to get in shape. I joined the USF Masters swim program at Koret with coach Chris Wagner, started weight training, and stopped drinking alcohol.

The sky was brightening with first light as I jumped off the stern of the Sea Satin into the dark, 63-degree Channel. I swam into position behind Joni and officially started my first leg. I was confident, happy to be finally swimming. I got lost in my stroke, started daydreaming, and before I knew it Tom was waving his arms.

Duke Dahlin - 5:10 to 6:10am – 7^th hour

It’s so nice to swim in daylight!  It seems after John’s swim, the wind started to pick up again. From time to time, I would swallow some Channel. The spectacular sun was rising on my left. I could see Julian with the lap counter onboard the boat letting me know how much time had passed. Having this information was a big relief.  There were times when I caught up to the Sea Satin, got ahead, and swam at the bow like a dolphin. Then I’d slow down so I didn’t get too far ahead. My second swim was about over, and it would have been bittersweet if we reached France before I could swim another leg.

Sunny McKee - 6:10 to 7:10am – 8^th hour

I entered the water and realized the wind had picked up again. Bummer! And, lucky me, there were jellyfish! Some were very long. One wrapped around me and stung my leg, and another got my neck. My first thought was, “Great, I’m going to get stung so much that I’ll have a reaction and die!” I wondered if I was allergic. 

The channel was so choppy, I spent the rest of the swim swallowing water and dodging jellyfish. At least there was daylight. Again, I told myself to shut up and keep swimming.  I finished my second swim, happy to be done and still alive. The jellyfish stings stopped hurting; they weren’t so bad in retrospect.

Tom Neill - 7:10 to 8:10am – 9^th hour

I was eager to touch the water again and glad to be swimming with the sun. Moderate wind continued and I struggled to take a breath without swallowing water. I anticipated the end of my leg and slowed when Julian passe by and I was quickly back to the stern, up the ladder, and on deck where I was surprised to see how close we were to the lighthouse on Cap Griz Nez, the point that reaches out into the Channel and marks the part of France closest to Dover. I was hopeful that we would finish in the next two hours. I went down to the cabin and lay on a bed in the boat’s bow.  When I returned to the deck an hour or two later to watch my swimmer, I noticed that land looked further away. 

Julian Sapirstein - 8:10 to 9:10am – 10^th hour

My second swim was much easier—full daylight and the water was much less choppy. I can't say it was fun though. It was more a matter of just slogging along until the hour was up. I noted a few ships off in the distance when I breathed to the right or when I breathed to the left when I was ahead of the boat. I felt fine when I finished, not cold like after the first time.

Joni Beemsterboer - 9:10 to 10:10am – 11^th hour

At the end of my second leg, I maneuvered to be close enough to the boat to make a quick transition so that the pilot could speed on to the new swimmer. On this leg I lost my anti-nausea patch. Once onboard I felt queasy and tried to stay horizontal. Sunny fed me ginger which helped, as did mumbling to myself.

John Hornor - 10:10 to 11:10am – 12^th hour

Sunshine! Warming water! Nothing to worry about now—just the swim. I imagined looking down from space and watching myself as a tiny dot somewhere in the middle of the English Channel. Suddenly shouts of “you’re drifting too far away!” brought me back to earth. I focused on form—not letting my left arm cross over the midline. I recalled Chris Wagner’s advice: “Railroad tracks all the way to France” Suddenly Tom’s arms are waving, and it's time for Duke.

Duke Dahlin 11:10 to 12:10pm – 13^th hour

After Joni and John finish their swim, we can see France. Martin tells us we are at a point in the Channel for solo swimmers called “The Graveyard of Dreams.” It’s a place of strong currents and rougher water, and you are being pushed north away from the closest point. Martin had told us now we needed to swim hard as possible to make it to shore.

 Again, I was so glad to be swimming in daylight. It was kind of bumpy out there. I finally saw the lap counter indicating I had 11 minutes left. And before I knew it, 2 minutes. I heard the siren and yells of my team mates to get out. 

Sunny McKee – 12:10 to 1:10pm – 14^th hour

I jump in and swim as hard as I can. It was very choppy, and I ended up swallowing lots of water. I focused on the whiteboard, never looking up at our destination. This leg felt different because I didn’t think I was going to die. I was just concentrating on swimming as hard as I could. I really wanted to get to France, but I felt like I wasn’t getting any closer. I pushed myself to keep swimming, despite this sinking feeling, and soon it was Tom’s turn. It looked to me like we were no closer to France.

Tom Neill – 1:10 to 2:10pm – 15^th hour

I jumped off the boat on Martin’s signal and swam past Sunny for my third leg. The water was as choppy as before. The boat was not keeping a steady pace. I was at the bow and then the stern in repeated cycles. At one point I was thirty yards ahead of the boat and I stopped because I did not want to repeat my nighttime experience of swimming towards England. 

Towards the end of the hour, I noticed that the captain was lowering a small, motorized inflatable, which he had said he would deploy when we approached land. I was elated. Soon, Martin signaled the end of my swim. I looked up to see the texture of French black and white cliffs in great detail. I climbed the ladder and watched the end of the swim from the deck.

  

 Julian Sapirstein 2:10 to 2:19pm – 16^th hour

John and Julian in France

Tom’s leg ended a few hundred yards from France and I was ecstatic to be able to finish. This time I swam without the boat beside me and headed straight for shore. We just missed a beautiful sandy beach and had nothing but rocky shore for a landing. I didn’t care, but I feared getting beat up on the rocks.  The waves weren’t big, but they were high enough to pose a risk so I was very careful. There were a lot of rocks just under the water, which was going up and down, so I would grab a submerged rock, stabilize myself and pull myself forward to the next rock until I got to the edge of the water. By that time, I was pretty cut up and was bleeding a fair amount but I was so thrilled to be in France that I didn’t care. John Hornor joined me on the rocks and we celebrated.  On the boat, I was bleeding all over the deck but no problem. The deck is designed to take things like blood and wash them off.

Official Time: 15 Hours 09 Minutes (CS&PF Website)
Oldest English Channel Mixed Relay Team in the World

This swim wouldn’t be possible without the support of our families, friends, members of the SF Dolphin Club and USF Masters swim coach Chris Wagner. Thank you to the amazing Sea Satin escort boat captain Lance Oram, crew Tanya and Mia, and official observer Martin for keeping us swimming safely crossing the English Channel.