SEBA #3 - The Swim

“Looks pretty wavy out there.” VM noted.

“Hey, you know what, bring the waves! I’m not afraid of them anymore.”

VM smiled a smile like he knew that I’d just invoked some kind of Voodoo lake spirit, and we proceeded to walk down to the swim start.

“Ah, hell.”

There was a sinking feeling in my stomach as the prospect of jumping off the Tiscornia Park pier found its way from "oh, crap, no!" to consideration in my head.

“Suppose that I have to do it sooner or later, huh?”

“Yep, and it might as well be now.”

“Ah, hell.”

VM reminded me ahead of time to make sure that my goggles didn’t dislodge going into the water, so I took care to make sure that I wouldn’t have to go on a wild goggle chase in choppy (and getting choppier) Lake Michigan.

“Hey! That was kind of fun!”

VM laughed at my silly glee, “Yeah! OK, Are you ready?”

"Let’s go!"

And we were off. The water was warm, goggles tight, there was a cool breeze and I had a feeling that this might turn out to be a pretty good swim. Now, just as I was feeling all proud of myself for not being afraid of the waves or whatever Lake Michigan had to throw at me, my overly cocky self found its way into some especially choppy water. Just as I stood up to see how far I'd swum from the pier I was picked up in a swell and tossed face first in to the water, a white cap wave crashing down on top of me.

“What the #@$%&!!”

I shook my head and the sense returned. I noticed that I was about 20 yards from the shore and there were white breakers everywhere. Oh, yeah, well that’ll do it... I was happy that I could stand up, and happier when I noticed that I was still relatively close to VM, he was about 50 yards ahead of me and a bit further from shore. I waved to let him know where I was, and he waved back - a minute later we started swimming again.

At this point I remember hoping that he was OK. The waves were starting to undulate quite a bit, and he’d been prone to being sea sick. He seemed OK so far, and I started to swim toward him.

Then things changed. About five minutes after I started to swim towards VM I noticed that something was very different. The water was different, it sounded differently. Since getting slapped down by the breaker wave, I’d humbled a bit and told myself that I’d never boast about my wave confidence within ear shot of the waves again. But it was too late for apologies. I was going to be taught a lesson that I wouldn’t soon forget.

I tried to stand up but there was no ground under my feet. I looked for the beach but it was blocked by the waves. I felt like I was in the middle of the ocean, and as I turned to try to gauge where I was, I noticed that I was way far out – perpendicular to the end of the pier at Tiscornia Park, and about halfway to Jean Klock Park. Not far from me a boat buzzed by, and I knew that I had somehow swum very far off course. How that happened in five minutes, I have no idea. I suppose that’s what happens when you piss off the waves.

There was no sign of VM anywhere. I had no choice but to just try to swim back in, so that’s what I did. The swells had become really big by now, and I was pushed under water a few times before I heard it:

“This is nothing compared to what I can do to you.”

And in that moment I felt like Odysseus, full of pride and lost at sea for years because of it. I knew that the only way out of this was to stop fighting against the waves, and to try my best to become part of them. And sure enough, not long thereafter my breathing fell into sync with the swells and the waves started to go through me. OK, I get it now.

There was still no sign of VM and I was getting really nervous that he’d gotten sick out in the middle of the water. I still had no idea of just how far out I was, and thought that I’d swum in enough that we were likely on the same trajectory again, so not seeing him for 15 minutes wasn’t good. Neither was the fact that the beach just never seemed to get any closer.

My earplugs were knocked out by one of the waves, and everything was louder. It didn’t just sound louder, it was louder. The waves were bigger and stronger, the sky was even darker, seagulls started circling over my head and I STILL couldn’t find VM. All of a sudden everything was a bad movie.

Finally I could see the beach, and on it, what appeared to be a man in a black standing on the shoreline at Jean Klock Park. Hey!! VM!! I swam closer to shore, and stopped my watch. 58 minutes, not bad with all that chop and swimming halfway to Wisconsin. But then I realized that the black wasn’t a wetsuit and the man wasn't VM. It was a guy in some kind of S.W.A.T. uniform! He had binoculars and began waving me in from the water.

Wow, they’re calling people out of the water because of these waves, I hope they got VM out.

“Ma’am, were you swimming out here with a friend?”

And then all at once everything was cold. A thousand thoughts went through my head. He did get sick, damn, why didn’t we just skip this, he probably got dizzy, light-headed, and what if he passed out!!? Wha-

“Ye-Yes, is he OK?”

“Yes, ma'am, he’s looking for you and is pretty worried. Quite a current out there today.”

Blood returns to extremities.

“Oh, wow, OK, um, he called you?”

“Yes, ma’am. He couldn’t find you out there and got nervous.”

“When did he call?”

“I received the call about seven minutes ago, ma’am. Are you OK?”

“Ye- Yeah, I’m fine. Where is he?”

“He’s down at Tiscornia Park with the police and other Coastguard personnel.”

The official had been on and off the radio as we talked and walked, and I looked down the beach to see three people walking towards us. Two “S.W.A.T.” uniforms and one wetsuit. When we all caught up, VM put his hand to his brow and shook he’s head, half-grinning, but visibly upset. “Geez!” (and you can read about everything that was in that "Geez!" here.)

“What’s all this?” I tried to laugh. And he began to explain, all the while going a mile a minute.

“Man, I totally freaked! I couldn’t find you!” He relayed how he just looked up and I was gone, how he stopped swimming halfway to Jean Klock to head to the beach to look for me. How he hiked a dune to look for me, how he woke up some people and asked to use their binoculars to look for me. And then how he went back to use their phone to call 911 to look for me. But with all of these heroics, he wasn’t feeling even remotely like a hero, in fact, he seemed a little embarrassed about the whole thing. “I just freaked out big time! Sorry about the Coast Guard.”

“OMG, are you kidding me!? THANK YOU for calling them. I’m glad you didn’t wait to make sure that I was dead!”

Quite the knight in shining neoprene, if you ask me.

Well, after answering a million questions for the S.W.A.T. suits, VM and I walked the rest of the way down the beach to Tiscornia Park and to our bikes.

There were still about 58 miles to ride with my awesome training partner.

(To read from VM's perspective, go here.)