Ivor Macklin

Ivors Big Swim

After a wet and stormy week, Saturday 27th February 2010 arrived, sunny and bright. I was due to swim at 3pm, as friends were coming from all over England and Scotland to support me.

The weather forecast predicted winds freshening with storms arriving later that night.

One of our friends, Malcolm who has many years experience of the sea and its conditions, had offered to act as back up. He brought along his inflatable with an outboard motor but as the water was so choppy, it was advised that the lifeguard would shadow me on a jet ski and be close by in case of difficulties. Malcolm would stay as shore support. There was also a nurse present, to check on me when I came out.

30 friends were cheering and photographing me as I jogged down the beach into the sea.

The swim I was about to do was 300 metres. I was going to swim out on the right side of the pier, over a man made surf reef, then a 100 metre swim across the end of the pier, retur... more

Ivors Big Swim

After a wet and stormy week, Saturday 27th February 2010 arrived, sunny and bright. I was due to swim at 3pm, as friends were coming from all over England and Scotland to support me.

The weather forecast predicted winds freshening with storms arriving later that night.

One of our friends, Malcolm who has many years experience of the sea and its conditions, had offered to act as back up. He brought along his inflatable with an outboard motor but as the water was so choppy, it was advised that the lifeguard would shadow me on a jet ski and be close by in case of difficulties. Malcolm would stay as shore support. There was also a nurse present, to check on me when I came out.

30 friends were cheering and photographing me as I jogged down the beach into the sea.

The swim I was about to do was 300 metres. I was going to swim out on the right side of the pier, over a man made surf reef, then a 100 metre swim across the end of the pier, returning the 100 metres leg back to the shore. I had been training at the local swimming pool regularly doing about 800 metres, but that was in a warm, calm pool. This was the open sea at temperatures of 7 degrees

The cold stung my skin as I waded out, looking for the next large wave to dive into.

As I swam out, a 2 metre wave crashed over me pushing me back and under the water. I surfaced just as another wave hit me and drove me back even further. I swam harder to get beyond the breakers, but I was already gasping for breath and tiring fast.

At the end of the pier, the waves were no longer breaking against me, but the swell was lifting me up and dropping me 3 metres with each wave. I could hear the jet ski of the lifeguard as he circled, coming closer, then turning away again, his engine drowning out the shouts of encouragement coming from my friends on the pier.

20 metres past the pier, I turned to swim the second leg. The fight into the waves had sapped too much of my strength. Due to the cold and extreme weather, I had not been able to settle into a proper stroke and was grabbing breaths when ever able.

By the half way point, as I was crossing the end of the pier, it was evident that I was losing the use of my limbs. It was like swimming in custard. Early hypothermia was already starting and the blood supply to my limbs was reducing by the minute. After what seemed an age, I was turning onto the home section and as the next wave lifted me, my heart sank and fear took hold. I could glimpse the beach and the people were tiny dots, over 200 metres away. It was obvious to me that I would never make it.

I would have to signal the lifeguard, but could I raise my arm. I was now only able to do a third of a breast stroke movement, though my brain screamed at my arms to move more, but they just wouldnt.

I turned my head to look for the lifeguard. He must have been at the furthest point of his circle, as I couldnt see him.

At this point, I should tell the reader that although I am a dive instructor, strong swimmer and used to the sea, I am in fact negatively buoyant! So much so that in a swimming pool, with a full lung of air, I can stand on the bottom and walk across the pool! In these conditions I had to keep moving to stay afloat.

I swam on, hoping that the next wave would lift me to find the lifeguard, but the cold was now affecting my judgement and I turned my head the wrong way and only saw the side of the pier. Panic is a killer and I was beginning to feel its shadow looming .

Just then, the next wave lifted me and carried me forward. I saw Malcolm, only 70 metres away standing in the water waiting for me with a towel. He had walked forward leaving the crowd behind much further up the beach.

I felt the next wave lift and carry me. I was trying to stay up as I reached the breakers. Each wave wanted to suck me under. The next fear was when to try to stand, as I was so tired I could barely swim now. If I stood up too early and my feet could not reach the bottom, I would sink below the surface and panic would be on me harder, colder and more deadly that the waves that were once again crashing down on me .I stood and touched the bottom in waist high in water. My legs felt like I weighed 30 stone as I stumbled to my friend and fell into his arms Gravity helped the blood flow back into my legs and with assistance, I made it up the beach. Others had to help me dress as I had lost co-ordination and I could not bend my legs to reach my feet.

The nurse checked my pulse and told me it was racing, but normal under the circumstances. A waiting vehicle took me the 1 minute drive back to the Hotel and straight in to a hot bath. Shock was my next sensation. I found myself shaking and I could not control my emotion. As I lay in the warm bath, I wept. The swim only took 12 minutes, though the shaking lasted over 9 hours!

In conclusion, I would like to thank my friends for their support and the lifeguard for the part he played. Without him being there, I would not have attempted this swim in those conditions. Experienced yachtsmen told me that it was a force 4, gusting 5.

Am I glad I did it? Yes. Would I ever try it again? Hell, NO!

What was gained? Over £6000 for charity and still climbing!

Myself, I have gained far more from this experience than I ever dreamed.