If it was easy, everyone would do it.

27th August 2024, 2.24am and we are on the boat ready to swim the channel. By 4.15am I was in total panic with swimmers and myself continuing to be violently sick as the support boat was tossed ferociously by the early morning swell. How could we go on and subject children to this? Thankfully, two hours later and a beautiful dawn brought a semblance of calm and with it, conditions which brought a new sheen to the experience. By 5.40pm we had landed in tranquil, beautiful conditions. The resilience of the pupils reminded me that I should never have questioned their ability and training.

It is fair to assume that I would have learnt my lesson….

12th August, 2025. This all seemed easier. A swim that would start at 10am in flat seas with a daytime temperature of 24 degrees celsius. As before, the teams had committed themselves to this epic swim for nearly two years and had proved their mettle time and again through bitterly cold acclimatisation swims; encounters with a dolphin (not as cute as you may imagine) and constant plumes of jellyfish, courtesy of the hot summer weather.

Whilst we would land at night, the refreshing day time breeze was due to fall silent as dusk came – what could be better? The next 9 hours passed in relative calm and luxury, the only stress coming when Hamish McCarthy kept singing – it might motivate some, it simply made me wince… The other boat – the ‘red team’ – were making equally strong progress and the shared photos revealed how at ease the two teams were in this challenging environment.

As dusk approached, the thought of the wind easing filled me with happy memories of similar conditions in 2016 when the night swimmers were surrounding by spell binding phosphoresce in the sea, blooms produced by the flat calm seas. Certainly, I could not wait for my second swim as the night swim is always the most special. However, it began to dawn on me that this was never meant to be easy – if it was, everyone would do it.

The cooling northerly wind suddenly changed direction and started to blow in from the south-west and with it, a cloak of fear and doom spread into me. By the time the sun had set the wind was now gusting up to force 5 and the swell was significant and worrying. The first swimmers to experience this were clearly shocked and on ‘team pink’ tears could be seen collecting in the goggles of the swimmers. News from ‘team red’ was no better with one swimmer repeatedly retching in the sea. Those doubts started to re-surface – why would anyone sign this risk assessment? I had been involved with channel swimming at Taunton School for 9 years, but this felt different.

The voice and tone of Lance, our redoubtable skipper, changed and became clipped and worried. We were now at our most northerly position in the sea with the hope that the new tide would sweep us south and onto the Cap. However, the power of the wind was blowing the boat closer to Calais, a swim time which would push us to 20 hours and to the limits of our endurance. Furthermore, I knew that we would not be allowed to land there – no one is at night. What did this all mean?

I had a message on repeat – we will fail one year, I think it will be 2025. The thought made me feel terrible because none of the pupils thought this so why was I giving up on them? My turn to swim. A pep talk with Hamish with a simple message to him – be tough on me, I need the anger to go as fast as I can: the only way I could banish the thoughts and repay the team was to give it my all. By the time I got out I could see the Cap was still elusive and ‘team red’ were in a similar and precarious position.

However, over the next couple of hours, the power of the human spirit started to tell its own story. Through sheer determination and muscle memory the teams battled on and suddenly, the beautiful calm of the lighthouse beam from Cap Gris-Nez was falling repeatedly on each boat and with it, we swam into the lee of the bay and to calmer waters. The final swimmers were now in and an epic conclusion to something totally inspiring – we had made it.

The Channel Swim is unique, but it is not the only way in which I am humbled by the generous appetite our pupils show in their ambitions and desire to make the most of their time at the school. This edition of The Courier will give you a snapshot into this and I am very excited to see how these passions develop over the course of the year.

Have I now learnt my lesson? I doubt it, but I will be on the boat again next year cheering them on when we take our next group of pupils across the English Channel.