Sally Swims: "He swam for Love, as I for Glory"

Every year in August, the Turkish authorities in Çanakkale organise a race across the Hellespont from Eceabat in Europe to Çanakkale in Asia, and this year it was to be the 22nd Sahap Tarzi Swimming Across Dardanelles Race.

Rich in history, the Dardanelles straits to the Turks, or the Hellespont to the Greeks, is one of the most important stretches of water in the world. Linking the Aegean to the Sea of Marmara and then via the Bospherous and the Dead Sea to the Mediterranean, the Hellespont's role as an international waterway has given it strategic importance for centuries. The site of the Trojan war, the battle of Gallipoli and many many more dramatic battles, blockades and treaties, that's where 300 swimmers were heading to race.

In ancient times, Greek legend has it, Leander swam 3 kilometres nightly across the Hellespont, in the dark, to visit his lover, Hero. Crossing the straits from Abydos to Sestos - he was guided by a light she burned in her tower to mark his way. One night, the lamp blown out by a fierce wind, Leander lost his bearings and drowned in a storm in the middle of a crossing. The next morning, discovering her lover's death, Hero flung herself from her tower and killed herself in despair, her body coming to rest beside his which had been washed ashore.

In 1810, Lord Byron followed in Leander's footsteps swimming the crossing in May of that year.

And on August 30th 2008 some 300 swimmers took part in the Çanakkale Dardanelles swim race across the same stretch of water from Europe to Asia.

Ancient map of the Hellespont with the routes crossed by Leander

Our modern day route across the Dardanelles, the blue line shows the route avoiding the strong currents

"Pack your Swimtrek tee shirt Sal, I need some help"
Swimtrek, who organise the international contingent of the race across the Hellespont, had recruited an amazing 150 swimmers or so to race against a strong Turkish field this year, and I was going along to swim but also to help out Simon with a bit of the liaison... this is what happened...

Thursday 28 August
Swimmers from the four corners of the globe start converging on the town of Çanakkale, a dusty and flat 5 hour bus drive from Istanbul. Young and old, experienced competitive swimmers and first time open water swimmers are all represented. Like mice following the pied piper, we all follow Simon to this remote corner of Turkey. Swimmers from Australia, Ireland, Texas, Germany, Switzerland, South Africa, Dubai and the UK assemble, eyeing each other up for form, swapping swimming stories and getting nervous together.

Friday 29 August
The next day Simon and Swimtrek have organised a full race related itinerary, and we process from a acclimatisation swim on a deserted beach on the outskirts of town, to a medical from a mysterious Turkish doctor, to the race briefing.

The race briefing is comprehensive and puts the fear of god into us, as the race format and technicalities are explained. The Dardanelles is one of the busiest shipping routes in the world, and looking out across the water one could appreciate this. It's like looking across a motorway - with all manners of boat traffic hurtling past in both directions. This race is the only time of the year that it's possible to do this swim - the Turkish authorities close the shipping lane to traffic for precisely one and a half hours, and thus the time limit for the race is one and a half hours. "How strict are the race organisers at enforcing the time limit?" one nervous swimmer asks. "Very" replies Simon, to everyone's consternation. "If you were more than a hundred metres away from the finish they'd probably pull you out." The slower swimmers, myself included, tense up. OK. Next comes the explanation of the route. "If you swim from the start point and head for the finish in Çanakkale you will never make it and will end up in Greece" says the Turkish translator. Because of a strong surface current running east to west - from the Sea of Marmara to the Aegean, it's not possible to swim in a straight line, and the currents will sweep you past the finish point and you will overshoot it and won't be able to swim back to the finish against the current. We are exhorted over and over again to first of all head straight across to a radio mast on the opposite side of the strait, instead of following our intuition and heading right (west) to the finish point. "Many fast swimmers have failed to finish because they have not heeded this advice and many slower swimmers make it because they do," they warn. "The slower the swimmer you are, the more left you should head" repeats Simon again and again as if it's a mantra. A moment of light relief comes when an Australian woman asks the bemused Turkish official if she can wear a Fastskin suit. She explains that it's 'Fina approved'. The Turkish officials raise eyebrows and appear to confer. Nobody is any the wiser.

The previous day Simon had shown some of the Swimtrek swimmers the race route, as they arrived by ferry for the start of their trip. This afternoon, after the briefing and pasta, Swimtrek organises the same reccie for the later arrivals who have missed the earlier one. I head off with around thirty or forty other swimmers to get the ferry across the straits to the start point and then look out over the water back to Çanakkale and the finish of the swim. We are pointed out the radio mast towards which we must head in order to avoid disaster. Swimmers stand on the ferry deck, scrutinising the horizon, and discuss tactics. "I'm going to spot this flag, head for that building, turn here." "Look, you can see the current change here - it looks like it's 12 knots". Blimey, how the hell can someone see that the water is running at 12 knots? It's tense. They all (especially the Aussies) seem very serious and knowledgeable! I feel like a rookie. I'm now much more nervous than before.

Saturday 29 August. Race Day
It's blazing hot, the sun beating down. No wind. Perfect conditions for the swim. Registration for the race begins at about 11am, with swimmers queuing in the grounds of the military fort, the finish point, for a second medical - swimmers limbering up in speedos mingle alongside military police in full white dress uniforms and machine guns. It all adds to the occasion. We get our numbered hats and a bright white pair of flannel slippers (300 pairs donated by the Çanakkale Rotary Club!) to wear on our ferry journey over to the start point. As we gear ourselves up for the start of the race, swimmers are nervously milling around, saying "I just want to finish and not get pulled out". Which is just what I'm thinking. God, I'm nervous.

We process through the streets of Çanakkale dressed in just our swimmers, hats, goggles, and gleaming white flannel slippers: three hundred or so swimmers of all shapes and sizes. On to the ferry and across the straits that in half an hour will be ours for the taking, to the start point in Eceabat. Greasing up on the boat, one of my tasks as Swimtrek guide is to go around offering to grease up swimmers with vaseline to prevent rubbing: a strange short woman on a ferry dressed only in swimmers, little white slippers, latex glove and tub of vaseline. This has got to be one of the strangest moments. Disembarking the other side, we again walk through the streets to the start point. Very nervous now. I just want to get in and get started now.

We get into the water on the beach, 300 of us. Turks over there, yellow hats. Us over here, red hats. What is this them and us thing. It's quite odd. Wade into the water. There is a flotilla of assorted small boats waiting in the water - around 50 or so of them will guide us and support us on our route across, marking the route and offering safety. As I get into the water I realise that there are hundreds of thousands of tiny non stinging jellyfish in the water. It's like standing in thin tapioca pudding, and I'm transfixed. As I walk forward I keep catching them between my fingers and I feel them brushing on my legs. Not an unpleasant sensation and I'm curious as I've heard of this phenomenon but never seen it. Jellyfish soup. Awesome. Goggles off and on a few times and the race begins. Off we go.

It's great swimming in a bunch, it's like swimming with someone but not with someone. Lovely. It takes a while to thin out, and I'm happy just to do my own thing. There are always little Turkish boats close by enough and I relax and enjoy my swim. I keep sighting the radio mast and making sure I'm ultra careful not to be to its right. Simon and the race organisers words ringing in my ears like some hideous Hilaire Belloc cautionary tale, I try not to become "The girl who swam too much to the right"... After half an hour I realise that almost everyone is further to the right and off towards Çanakkale but I'm too cautious to make the move to follow. I just keep deliberately going forward towards the Asian side, keeping the radio mast dead ahead. Soon it's just me and a little Turkish boat ahead of me, a kind of dory, with a lone Turkish man leaning over and smoking in the sunshine. I keep looking at him and gesticulating whether I should go forward or head to the right, turning towards Çanakkale and the finish. Whenever I do this he just beckons me towards his boat, which is heading forward to the radio mast. I follow him. Periodically we have this little dance, me gesticulating quizzically, him beckoning and smoking. It's lovely. I just follow and swim. After about 45 minutes of swimming, one of the English speaking boats that Swimtrek have organised, distinguished by a string of yellow balloons and looking like a party boat, pulls along side and tells me to turn right now towards Çanakkale. I veer off with the town now in my sights. Usually I don't wear my watch but today I have, as I know that I will be up against a deadline. I'm doing fine for time, I think. I can relax. I mean, I know it's a race and all, but well, I want to just relax and enjoy it. Sighting the floodlights on the football stadium, then the huge Turkish flag on the sea front building, then the green building and then the giant arch and balloon marking the jetty and the finish, I swim in. My little Turkish man and his boat are still there near me and I want to thank him but as I get towards the jetty there is a lot of shouting encouragement and gesticulating and I realise I just have to finish the swim by touching the jetty, and then get out up the ladder to get my time. Afterwards we stand on the jetty watching the last few finishers come in, and watching the people who misjudged their race and overshot the finish (and had, in fact, headed towards Greece) trying desperately to swim back against the strong current to the finish line.

I finish the race in 1 hour 15 mins. I'm not last, not swept down and out to sea to the Aegean and Greece, not pulled out by the Turkish authorities. I crossed the Hellespont in amazing company, following in the footsteps - or wakes - of legends, met lovely fellow swimmers from all over the world, relied on the kindness of strangers and felt part of something amazingly historic and special. What a brilliant adventure.

You can read Byron's account of his swim here

Comments

Bruce,

Flippers are a no-go.

Where are you based in Oz?

Do you want to email/phone chat about the race ?

If yes, how best to contact you ?

Are you thinking of joining one of the 2 Aussie tour groups ?(Sydney and Melb based).

George W.

Posted by: george Webster | February 03, 2011 at 05:27 AM

I'm pretty sure they are not allowed Bruce - but sure that flippers would be fun but not necessary - I'm not a fast swimmer but still finished the year I did it. Good luck!

Posted by: Sally Goble | January 24, 2011 at 11:37 PM

I'm thinking of doing it this year.
Can I use flippers or are they prohibited?
bruce
(from Oz)

Posted by: bruce alcorn | January 24, 2011 at 10:39 PM

Sally,

I have just completed the 2010 swim. The conditions were horrendous, with the event almost cancelled and swimmers told to swim at their own risk as safety boats would be unable to pick swimmers up from the water due to the conditions. Further, the boats scheduled to act as 'target' boats to assist in navigation, would not be there.

Thank God for the communications tower. We started off from the beach, having to swim in a direction some 60 degrees to the left of the straight line route to the finish.

As a result, only 253 competitors out of 471 actually made it to the finish. This failure rate of around 45% was indicative of the conditions, where many swimmers were simply swept past the finishing point by the current. Worst conditions in the 24 year history of the race. The next morning, there was not even a ripple.

Incredibly, the race was fast, with the winner coming in with a time of 39 minutes plus. Although we swam for the first 1.5km into a strong wind and a 2-3 ft wind chop, the same elements assisted when we made the run for home.

I was expecting around 70-75 mins, and finished in 55 and a half.

Great to have done it......and survive.

Geo. W.

Posted by: george webster | September 03, 2010 at 05:27 PM

Oh, you should be fine then. Get as fast as you can - lots of sprint work - don't be fooled into thinking that because it's a distance you can just plod up and down - and on the day just follow instructions and go the way they tell you to. As long as you don't overshoot the finish you should be fine. Enjoy it - it's a fab swim - and if you haven't listened to this have a listen:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00s8f1x/Back_to_the_Hellespont/

Good luck!

Posted by: Sally Goble | May 09, 2010 at 09:25 PM

Yes, I am doing the swim this August, and I understand the open water differences.

Your input however, does give me some sort of yard stick. I am doing about the same time in the pool as you were.

Many thanks.

Cheers, George W.

Posted by: george webster | May 09, 2010 at 02:51 PM

Hey George - is that because you are doing the Dardenelles swim?

I don't think you can really compare pool and ocean times - but I think at the time I did the swim I was swimming just under 3k an hour. However the crossing times can vary greatly depending on route and weather conditions and all the rest of it.

Posted by: Sally Goble | May 05, 2010 at 09:11 PM

Hi Sally,

I am trying to get a better idea as to the equivalent swim distance.

Given your Dardanelles swim time of 75 mins, could you advise what your typical olympic pool training swim times were for say, 3 or 4km?

Regards, George, Sydney, Australia.

Posted by: George Webster | May 04, 2010 at 12:43 AM

So I think that there is good information here. Thanks for the contribution!

Posted by: johnnylawisit | January 07, 2010 at 03:08 AM