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The Final Assault!

The Final Assault!

  Now, where did I leave you? Ah yes, just off the coast of France at Cap Gris Nez lighthouse feeling ‘fresh as a daisy’.. Not! The wheel house door flew open and Reg appeared.. “You are doing okay.. now you need to dig in and.. sprint!” And with that , my pilot went back to the wheel. I knew exactly what he wanted. Four years of preparation, research and training. I had studied many charts and listened to many tales almost exactly the same as mine to this point. This was no surprise to me.. but the question was hanging thick in the afternoon air. ‘How long for?’ I...
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On Our Way..

On Our Way..

We were on our way! Once we left Dover marina we were in the ‘black of night’ travelling underneath the dark menacing presence of the ‘White Cliffs’ to ‘Samphire Hoe’ halfway between Dover and Folkestone. This was the start point according to tidal forecasts and Reg’s knowing wink.   After much debate between the nervous boat crew, Hagar lost the toss and had to ‘grease me up!’ Check my equipment.. steady girls… ‘strobe lights on’, cap and goggles adjusted! I then descended down the steps to the dingy waiting below in the cold night.     Ray, Reg’s brother...
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We have a swim on our hands!

We have a swim on our hands!

  I am absolutely overwhelmed by your following, your messages, good wishes and enthusiasm.. Thank you so much. It is an accomplishment that I truly have not come to terms with at this point and one that I know could not be achieved without my amazing ‘Boat Crew’, your support and the incredible support received from Virgin Atlantic.   I have sat for the past three mornings feeling most moved, having a mug of tea on a bench, on top of the cliffs looking across the water towards France. I realise that something should have been posted shortly afterwards to give...