Swimming to Antarctica_ Tales of a Long-Distance Swimmer - Lynne Cox [87]
At 9:14 a.m., I began walking into Lake Myvatn. The water was as glassy as ice and felt just about as cold. In the background I heard people clapping as I started swimming, and I smiled. It was such an honor to be swimming in this Icelandic lake and to have the support and encouragement of the local people. Even though we hadn’t spent much time together, I believed they were with me, and I felt a special connection with them. I think they understood that these swims were far more than just athletic adventures for me; they were a way of bridging cultural distances. They had made me feel very welcome there, and very special. It was thrilling to be making this swim with them with me in spirit.
The water was the same temperature as that in the Strait of Magellan, between forty-two and forty-four degrees, but for some unexplained reason, freshwater always feels colder than salt water. The distance I would be swimming across Lake Myvatn would be seven miles in a straight line, more than double the distance of the Strait of Magellan. The cold water coupled with distance would make the swim challenging and also, perhaps, build my confidence for the Bering Strait.
Positioned on my left side were Sovar and his lifeguard crew in one Zodiac; on the right were Jeffrey Cardenas, Arni Saeberg, and a couple of reporters. We were aiming for the volcanic point of Vindbelgur; it would take perhaps an hour and a half to reach that point, the deepest part of the lake. If I was not going into hypothermia, at that point I would extend the swim to include the widest portion of the lake, near Vagnbrekka.
By forty-five minutes into the swim, my arms were completely numb. The lifeguard crew watched me closely, and smiled. It was a spectacular morning, and we moved quickly across the glassy water, past two tiny lush green islands. Here the water, incredibly, changed from cold forty-three-degree water to hot ninety-degree water, as I cut across icy streams of water fed by mountain brooks and geothermal rivers from deep below the lake. It was like swimming across the face of a guitar, each string or stream a different temperature, and I never knew what to expect until my body played it.
When we hit the cold strings of water I swam faster, breathing every three to five strokes, trying to create more heat. When we crossed the hot strings, I stretched out. The contrast between hot and cold water, though, made it very difficult to adjust to the cold and it made the cold water seem even colder.
Realizing the dangers of this, Sovar and his crew didn’t take their eyes off me, and I felt very confident in them and very happy they were with me. In less than half an hour we were within reach of the Vindbelgur volcano, and we decided to go for the second point. This would make the swim one-third longer, but I wanted to stretch my limits, and the crew was right with me.
Once we passed the Vindbelgur volcano, I stopped for two or three seconds for a drink of Hi-C, and for the next half hour I sprinted. Solvar guided me past a white house at Vagnbrekka, then around the Stekkjarnes peninsula. A crowd had gathered: children, grown-ups, farmers with Icelandic horses, families we had met in the past three days. All were standing and cheering. The black volcanic shore was less than two hundred yards away. When I saw the bottom, I stood up. Someone pulled an incredibly warm and beautiful Icelandic sweater over my head, an old man offered me a bottle of whiskey, and the mayor came to invite Jeffrey and me for lunch. I had completed the crossing in just under two hours, and we were thrilled.
But I was extremely cold.
Someone gave us a ride to the local swimming pool, where I jumped into the water to get warm. That was a huge mistake. The water in the pool was eighty degrees, and my skin temperature was in the low thirties.
The contrast made my skin feel like it was on fire. Worse, the cold blood from my extremities rushed into my core, and I was suddenly very cold from the inside out. It took me twice as long to rewarm as it had after the Strait of Magellan