Bericht vanaf Het Kanaal - een verslag van een estafette met Nederlands accent

"The cliffs of England stand. Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay. Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!" Mathew Arnold captured the moment when victoriously writing his poem Dover Beach.

After a year of funerals, work challenges, navigating under turbulent weather conditions, I found myself in a relay team from Samphire Hoe towards Cap Griz Nez.

Meant as a grandmummy team, only three of us qualified as such, whereas the other three kept changing participation due to medicals, obligations or frailties. 

Finally thus, real loyalty towards the English Channel had to reign: the Queen of the Channel, JC, (the one and only Jackie Cobell)- following JB or James Bond from the same Dover area, baptized us in Holborough Lakes, got her team together backed up by the brand new mermaid of the Channel, Emma France- destined by name to unite two countries that once had no waters in between, reunited by the tunnel, leaving their battles to the European Union, her modesty escapes historical waves of conflict, competition and coalitions, she challenges… swimmers with or without Brexits.

Back to the waters: it’s amazing how Miss Channel has so many faces, while expecting strong currents and heavy weather conditions, we were suddenly in for a slot in indeed tranquil smooth waters and if you could replace the Big Ben by South Foreland’s Light House you would picture yourself in Elliott’s Sweet Thames run softly till I end my song. Instead of the 11 degrees Celcius at places in July 2014, we were embraced by lukewarm waters of 17’C in October! But as if October and the (almost) last boat in the season (Jack that record you get!) did not want to totally turn into a suntan summer, the sky remained grey as a veil that holds secrets, suspense and opening up just now and then, only with one, two or sometimes even three rays of sunshine providing hope but telling us that we had to make sunshine in our lives ourselves. The other pieces of our play kept popping up, tankers, container ships, ferries, jelly fish. And then the famous buoy the fastly changing dynamic distance to which clearly shows that even with hardly any currents visible and all appearing smooth, it's the channel that decides and the tide that rules. 

Again privileged to be in a team (a contrast to my previous ‘all male apart from the medic’), we had the couple Neil Streeter and Sam (indeed it runs in the family) as the pilots of his SUVA, after more than three slots each and just before the tide would take us in her arms for another set of six or so swims, they elegantly finished us within a last slot's 40 minutes on French rocks. These were its temporary passengers or actrices: Pam as caretaker had had more of a comforting job, be glad with a smooth odyessea. John the observer had just moved over from Italy, now overlooking the White Cliffs following in the footsteps of Ian Flemming who in turn had bought his house White Cliffs from Noel Coward. John had become addicted to the Channel Swimming and Piloting Federation and why would he not. On the contrary, Coward’s addition in the Vortex, had been of another nature: Emma who had started us off, met such in France, the eddies around the rock at night ominously drew her into their northern part, by which the SUVA preventing her to be shaken and stirred, navigated her swim into a nice last curl. While in your head you would still sing songs of… the romantic idea of Wissant’s Beach (Pas- de-Calais) where waiters would run out with champagne to celebrate your landing, the show was over in no time, what a power water can have, what a beauty at night. Even the Sunday Times, we promised a rose garden, their ability to launch their surfboard and swim with us under a sunny sky, I had to disappoint! But no worries, they got the harsh part-and endured, only the nicer one to be left for the future. Another passenger would be hard to surprise, the 'conquered all in life', Jan (f), who also liases the UK and the Continent- she married into a Flemish household, with one shoulder and no complaint she thrived, rose to th stars and had less detours than you can have with two proper shoulders! She had introduced us into Hever Castle, Ann Boylan- stories of power versus force, Waldorf - how Manhattan property extended to UK Castles, Diana-the almost opposite of Ann, and accidently its Saturday’s lake swims! Do go visit! Caroline whose parents saw us out and in, at Dover Harbour, two times in pitch dark! Whose colleagues brought in the Champagne dreamt of, well deserved: She had conquered strongest waves when these finally caught us, recovered after some sleep to the full bright her. Els who had asked me to accompany her and support in whatever challenge to face, went onto her Cool Frog mission. Last but not least again: Jack, Master of All ànd Jack of All traits, also the chili on board was a treat, need I say more.

Well treated by a sea that provides salt and nutrients to feed you skinwise, sand to give you the necessary scrub renewing your cells, massages that grap you from all directions, providing resistance to give your muscles a work-out celebrating they are being used that no gym can compete with, fresh air to fill your lungs and play with your hair, challenging your flexibility and sense of humor while staying up all night, adapting to the dark, admiring the stars, making you humble and realize you are such a small part of the universe, uniting cultures and species, providing zenn moments that no yoga course could teach, provokes enormous gratefulness to life. Life as a living verb- I once more became aware that, sea-sun-stars would be the new prescription to anyone who would rather prevent arriving at a state of maladies, all for free!

Above all, the Cliffs still stand, the nighty air has not changed, Moonraker, Ian Flemming’s novel set in Dover, tells you to literally shoot for that lunar crescent, pick a window, and land among the stars.

Hence do come, join! The Gateway to the Continent will unite all, Sue do enter next’s! Jack (+Dave!), you mighty, many thanks for keeping the world turn round, may you be around for ever!

Annabelle Slingerland