Julie Galloway swam the Channel on the 13th August 2009 in a time of 9 hours and 51 minutes

Julie's Story 

My name is Julie Farrell (née Galloway), and I swam the Channel on 13 August 2009, when I was 23 years old. I swam with pilot Lance Oram on Sea Satin. I completed the swim in 9 hours and 51 minutes.

I’ve been swimming my entire life. Myself, along with my older brother and sister, were competitive pool swimmers in Texas. We all went to university on swimming scholarships, and my brother and I competed at the U.S. Olympic Trials during our career. My swimming career was cut short due to an ankle injury and general burnout. Very disappointed in myself, I moved to Ireland in 2007 and, having just recovered from my fourth ankle surgery, decided to join a master’s swimming club to meet friends. I had completed a 2km open water race in Austin before moving, but had never swum in the sea. It was a tough adjustment, being so used to pools, but I soon began to enjoy the freedom of swimming without lane lines! By the end of 2007, I was hooked on sea swimming and, with the help of Ned Denison, I made the big step of signing up for a Channel slot in 2009, giving me time to prepare.

The next two years were spent gaining weight (almost 30 pounds!), getting fit and preparing myself for the cold. Being Texan, the cold was a big thing for me. While some find weight-gain unnecessary, the extra weight helped me immensely during my swim. I told everybody it was part of the sacrifice, but who are we kidding...I finally got to gorge on ice cream and cake!

When my tide arrived, I knew I was prepared, but I was still terrified. I was used to swimming 200 metres as fast as I could; the Channel was a completely different story. I got the final 'you're going' around 8pm on the 12th. I then met up with my crew: Mark Ransom (Channel Swimmer 2008) and Nick Adams (multiple Channel Swimmer, including a 2-way). Their expertise in both swimming the Channel and crewing for other swimmers gave me confidence that they would look out for me and know how to respond in the tough bits.

We headed down to the marina at 1:15 a.m. and got ourselves sorted. There were other swimmers and relays getting ready on other boats, so it was a bit like a nervous party. We got all the stuff settled on the boat and departed around 2:20 a.m.

I got greased up and had a nervous excitement about me. We arrived and I was told to swim to the beach, clear the water, raise my hand, and go when the horn sounded. So I jumped, and squealed something along the lines of 'OH MY GAHHHHHH!' I stood on the stony beach. It was go-time. I heard loud yells and a muffled horn so I gathered it was time to start.

I made my way in and swam to the boat. The first hour was awful. It was very choppy and I was swimming in pitch-black water with mirrored goggles. The boat felt like it was going to crash into me, and I felt very lost swimming next to it. It wasn't so bad swimming at night, I wasn't scared, but it was difficult to navigate breathing because I could not see the waves.

On the hour feed, I had to take it on my stomach because I was dizzy, making the feed slow. My slow feeds would continue into the entire swim, and in hindsight I wish I had prepared better for them. Hour two was much better. I relaxed and enjoyed the swim more. I was still getting smashed by the waves, but I didn't really care that much. It was, after all, the English Channel. I didn't train for a flat swim. 

I struggled a lot with nausea, even when the sun came up and I could see more clearly. A rainstorm arrived, making the waves a bit violent. I really felt like I was going to puke. I kept telling myself, over and over, 'you can puke the rest of your life, just hold it in now.' I must have said that 2,000 times. My mind was a bit weird; I felt so focused on not hitting the boat, swimming powerfully and not puking, that I couldn’t think of much else.

At five hours Nick told me I was midway through the separation zone, meaning I was halfway. That seemed all right. But by six hours I was in so much pain that I was feeling depressed. My shoulders, arms, elbows, hands and fingers were aching with a pain that is hard to describe. Thoughts of failure entered my head, and I tried to fight them, but I was exhausted, so I felt a bit sad at this point. I remembered Freda’s sound advice: ‘Just keep swimming.’ This helped me get through the tough hours. I knew I had a large contingent of supporters watching my swim online, and this helped as well.

At 8.5 hours, Lance told me I'd a mile and a half to go. I wasn’t sure if he meant actual or nautical, but I figured the longest it could be was 3k, and I knew I could do a 3k. At this point I knew the Channel was in the bag, and I felt pretty relieved. Having spent two years wondering if I could do it, and to know I was almost about to prove myself capable, well, it felt fantastic. I celebrated by puking up my Maxim, which also felt fantastic!

At 9.5 hours, Lance said the words I wanted to hear for the past, well, 9.5 hours: 'This is your last feed.' A lot of the Channel swimmers talk about this as being a heroic, celebratory time full of joy and happiness. Me? I was just relieved. France was so close that I could feel it. The water was much warmer, and the rocks were becoming distinguishable. It was awesome to be able to see the bottom and know that the end was so close. This was a great time for me, and I could not help but smile. Eventually I knew the swim was finally ending. My hands felt land on the stony beach of Cap Griz Nez, and I stood up. Sirens from Lance's boat went off, and I was shocked. I had no real thoughts except the satisfaction of knowing it was over. 

It was amazing. Not many words can describe it. I was, more than anything, relieved that I had conquered the biggest challenge of my life. I looked back to the water, amazed that I had done it. I am still amazed. :)

My life changed from the moment I stood up on French soil. Before the Channel, I was never proud of myself for anything. I was never fast enough in the pool, smart enough nor good enough. I was living life on auto-pilot, but the Channel got me out of my comfort zone. It was the first goal I made where I knew I could very likely fail, and working through this allowed me to grow into a person who enjoys challenges. It completely changed my perspective and view of myself.

Most importantly, the Channel has provided me life-long friends, and I can proudly include myself in the best fraternity in the world. I have used my own experience to mentor other swimmers, and was able to crew on the outstanding crossing of a friend. You do not just swim the Channel and move on with your life; it's not just a physical feat. It is an enduring reminder that, if we have the strength to attempt something unimaginable, and the humility to respect our endeavours, we really can do anything. 

Julie Farrell - jgalfarrell@gmail.com