Open Water Swimming: How and Why More People Are Doing It
Reaching a meditative state in the cold, wide ocean
More hardy souls are jumping into cold, open water for the benefits of a swim in the ocean.
Open water swimming builds a strong mind and body, stroke by zen-like stroke. There can be obstacles and hazards—harsh weather, sea swells, bone-chilling water, and the unknowns of the deep blue sea. But like so many of life’s challenges, that is why we do it.
I’ve been plunging into open waters since I was a boy growing up in northern Illinois. My dad would run head first into Lake Michigan, and the seven kids would follow. We were good swimmers, having taken lessons after school at the YMCA.
That allowed me to be confident and strong far from shore. I’ve swum in the Great Lakes, Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, Long Island Sound, Mediterranean, Gulf of Mexico, San Francisco Bay, and countless rivers and lakes.
Open water swimming is not new, of course. According to Wikipedia, the “modern age” of open water swimming dates to 1810 when Lord Byron, the eccentric English poet, swam across the Straight of Gallipoli, a waterway in Turkey that separates Europe from Asia.
But there’s been a spike in popularity, due in part to Covid forcing people out of gyms and pools. In one example, the Wall Street Journal recently profiled a 76-year-old athlete in the Seattle area who took up ocean swimming during the pandemic.
Swimming is religion
Some swimmers go to extremes. The mother of all open water swims is called the Oceans Seven, which is akin to the challenge of climbing the world’s highest mountains (known as the Seven Summits) but involves swimming across seven well-known channels, with the longest stretch being Hawaii’s 27-mile Molokai Channel.
I first heard about Oceans Seven from a former colleague, Marty Filipowski, who lives in Australia, where open water swimming is religion. Marty told me about Oceans Seven—and his goal of swimming them all—over dinner when we were on business in Shanghai. He was eating steak and lots of carbs to increase his body fat in preparation to swim the North Channel, from Ireland to Scotland, where the water temp ranges from a chilly 11 degrees to 13 degrees Celsius (i.e. low 50s Fahrenheit).
Marty successfully completed the 21-mile North Channel swim in 12 hours, 26 minutes. He has also crossed the English Channel (21 miles), Catalina Channel (21 miles), Cook Straight in New Zealand (16 miles), and the Straight of Gibraltar from Spain to Morocco (10 miles).
And while it’s not among the Oceans Seven, Marty also swam the 28-mile loop around Manhattan, the so-called 20 Bridges Swim, which is hard to imagine for anyone who has looked down into the murky current of the East River from the Brooklyn Bridge. Stalwarts have been swimming that hellacious route for more than 100 years.
What goes through a swimmer’s mind when they are pushing ahead for hours and hours far from shore, sometimes in the darkness of night? I asked Marty.
He said he tries not to think about how long he has been in the water or how far he still has to go. He concentrates on the next food stop along the way, and he added:
“I focus on my breathing and staying connected with the water — this brings me into a very meditative state.”
My own swims, seldom longer than a mile, are like a splash in the kiddy pool compared to Ocean’s Seven. My longest thus far is the 1.5-mile swim from the infamous Alcatraz Island to the shore of San Francisco, the first leg of the Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon, which I did twice, in 2018 and 2019.
The first of those Alcatraz swims was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of my life. The night before, I couldn’t sleep—too much going through my head. A year earlier, the swim had been canceled due to high winds and rough water. A few years before that, a 46-year-old male triathlete died of a heart attack after jumping into the 51-degree Bay water.
I was also worried about the powerful current, having heard stories of swimmers getting separated from the pack, pulled off course, and swept under the Golden Gate Bridge. And there were reports of great white sharks in San Francisco Bay.
I got lucky. The weather and water conditions for the Alcatraz swim were ideal in 2018. It was memorable, with sunlight penetrating a few feet below the water’s surface. I had a textbook swim.
‘Liquid burning cold’
Open water can be shockingly, numbingly cold. In the Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon, most athletes wear wetsuits, and some don two swim caps to protect their head from the cold and thermal socks on their feet. (Most of the everyday swimmers in San Francisco’s Aquatic Park don’t cover up like this. They wear a swimsuit without the extra layers, as they have acclimated to the frigid Bay water.)
In my experience, the Pacific Ocean off Vancouver Island—1,000 miles north of San Francisco—felt even colder than San Francisco Bay when, as a teenager on family vacation, I swam out to the rocks to dive for crabs. And even that did not compare to the icy waters of Lake Superior, which took my breath away.
Some mindful swimmers find the biting, frigid water to be therapeutic. See “Swimming in Very Cold Water Keeps Me Sane.”
Notably, that piece by Sarah Miller ran in the New York Times’ Style section, and it links to an article on swimming in Vogue magazine. So open water swimming is very much in style, literally.
I’m more concerned with the icy cold. Vogue described jumping into the ocean in Maine, in December, as “liquid burning cold.”
But coldness is relative. In her book, “Swimming to Antarctica: Tales of a Long-Distance Swimmer,” Lynne Cox writes of swimming five miles in 38 degree water across the Bering Straight. Cox, like most open water swimmers, did that without a wetsuit.
Because swimmers are so exposed to the elements, it’s vital that they be well prepared for the conditions they may encounter. Articles like this one on “what to know before jumping in” offer tips for staying safe.
I once unwittingly witnessed one of the most incredible open water swims ever accomplished. It was 1997, and I was sitting with my wife on a beach in Key West when a news helicopter flew overhead. People began congregating at the water’s edge.
Amazingly, a 22-year-old Australian woman, Susie Maroney, was completing the 118-mile swim from Cuba to the Keys, the first person ever to do so. After more than 24 hours in the water, she was sunburned, covered in jellyfish stings, her tongue swollen from the salt water. The AP reported that she fainted on TV while being interviewed after the swim.
Maroney was protected by a shark cage during her crossing of the Florida Straights. In 2013, 64-year-old distance swimmer Diana Nyad completed the same swim without a shark cage.
I admit that sharks are sometimes on my mind when in the water, and they are not the only potential dangers. There are jelly fish, eels, sting rays, and other slippery, sharp creatures.
Check out the photo of the 294-pound grouper caught off Florida earlier this year that required four men to lift it into the boat. Or the 26-foot shark, the “size of a pickup truck,” found on the shoreline in Maine.
Open water swimmers must block these images and thoughts from their minds. I asked Marty if he ever feels fear. He said he relies on the boat crew that accompanies him on cross-channel swims to keep him safe.
Open water is not the time or the place to dwell on the unknown. It’s best to focus, breath, remain calm, and keep kicking.
