St. Croix
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St. Croix 5 Mile Coral Reef Swim At 6 AM in paradise, the sun was just
beginning to rise and I was thrilled to see the large number of nutheads, like
myself, who were also waiting. I Large cargo vans converted into some of the sketchiest "taxis" I'd ever seen screeched (and I mean screeched) to a halt in front of our groups, and we all piled into them. From the way they drove down to the marina, I was glad to be packed in like a sardine so I didn't fly through the windshield. Seat belts? Nowhere in sight. We lined up to be marked with our race
numbers. One of the race coordinators saw me wearing a parka and laughed.
"What do you think this I got marked with an "18" on each
arm and boarded one of the boats for solo swimmers. Once aboard the boats to
Buck Island, it seemed we were all doing one of four things, many of which
simultaneously-talking, putting on sunscreen, loading up on energy gels, and
drinking copious amounts of water and sports drinks. I tried not to think about
how long it was taking for the boats to get to the island, as the swim would be
even longer. We packed everything into our bags except our caps and goggles, and
jumped off the boat into the water. The race notes said the water was going to
be between 78 and 81. Not a chance. It was probably 84, as it didn't
even feel remotely cold at first. The race directors lined us up between two
cones on the beach for a shore start. Buck Island was like absolute paradise.
The sand was white, the adjacent hillside was incredibly green, and the clear
water was turquoise where it lapped onto the sand. The race director blew a
conch shell and we were off. I backed up to be in the middle of the pack as we
all started swimming, and only then did I realized how much bigger the waves
were than what I thought they would be. We were told at the pre-race meeting
the night before to swim towards the "V" created by two mountains on the
mainland, and to keep all boats on our right. Easier said than done! As the
water got deeper and the waves larger, I kept this in mind, looking up every
10-12 strokes to make sure I was still on course. All I could see on the bottom
was grass and sand. About a half mile into the swim, all of a sudden a kayaker
was next to me saying, "You need to go that way (left), you're way off course!"
This It was two miles into the swim by
the time we reached the first triangle buoy with a large boat next to
it-signaling the end of the first "third" of The green-roofed house seemed
continually far away and I continued to be concerned as I did not really know if
I was getting closer to it. I also As the green house passed by and the boat came closer, I found my next sight on the land-a house with many white triangle-shaped roofs. Again, I tried not to think about how tired I was and concentrated instead on the bottom. I passed many hundreds more groups of starfish, and began to see some of the much-anticipated coral reefs. Soon I reached the second transition and water boat, which was roughly aligned with the triangle-roofed house. I was relieved to not only get in some water and the packet of energy gel I had stuffed down the middle of my suit, but to also see the number of swimmers crowded around the boat-proof that I wasn't alone in the race anymore, and I wasn't in last place!! However, I was out of landmarks. In between swallows I gasped, "Now where?" to the crowd of swimmers and volunteers aboard the boat, and a bunch of them pointed in the distance to two white masts of sailboats peeking above the horizon. "The masts! Swim towards the masts" they encouraged. Okay, I can do this. The bottom became rocky but was still about 15 to 20 feet deep. In between sighting the masts, I passed more starfish. This was torture! All I wanted to do was two things-stop swimming, and take home a starfish... or two... or ten. Just keep going, I told myself. You're more than 2/3 there. When I considered giving up for the tenth time, I noticed that there was a swimmer about 15 yards ahead of me, and we were swimming at about the same speed. He was wearing a bright red brief, and looked to be about the same age as my dad. I also noticed the yellow triangle buoy in the distance, signaling the point at which to turn sharply left and head into the beach! I realized a few things at this moment. This other swimmer could help me continue at a constant speed to the end of the race. The yellow buoy meant I was only 500 yards from the beach finish. And most importantly, my own dad would not have wanted me to give up on the swim. I limped, as if you could limp while swimming, towards the yellow buoy, and saw there was a large boat next to it, full of volunteers who were cheering us on. I lifted my head to look at them, and there were three people standing at the railing of the boat, jumping up and down and pointing towards the finish-"You're almost there! Keep going!" It was like having my own cheering squad. I made the sharp left around the buoy, and to see the bright orange buoys and flags at the finish line was extremely encouraging. The thought of my arms falling off went through my head, but the thought of getting to collapse on the beach seemed like a better one. So concentrating on this one, I headed onwards. The bottom was coming closer and the sights turned into coral reefs, sand, and sea grass. I kept going until my fingers brushed sand and I struggled to stand up, my entire right leg cramping as I did. I knew how important it was at this point to smile for the camera and look like I was in no pain at all. Any energy I had left was used to run up onto the beach through the finish and I was greeted by a volunteer holding out a container of Powerade. I realized at that point that it didn't matter how warm the water had been or that the sun was shining in paradise and the air was 80 degrees, or more. I was freezing. I limped over to where our bags were to be dropped off and was greeted by one of my biggest fears-my bag was not there. I limped and shivered back over to the volunteers and garbled, "Where's my stuff? I'm freezing!" I was led to a chaise lounge where I was covered with two towels while one of the volunteers asked about the status of the bags. It turned out that only one of three boats had dropped off bags, and the rest were still on boats. "But hasn't everyone already finished?" I asked. The lady looked at me like I was absolutely nuts. "Oh no," she replied. "Only about half the people have come in." WHAT?? As I lay curled up on the chaise, I realized two things. Most importantly, I did it! I finished! And best of all, I was nowhere near as far to the back as I thought I was. I have never been so happy as to be on a beach, ever. Finally, a group of people arrived
carrying a literal boatload of bags. I saw my pink one and one of the
volunteers grabbed it, and I threw on my |
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