I would like to use this post to introduce you to, and thank the crew. They are:
Lance Oram: Channel pilot, skipper of the "Sea Satin", chief Channel navigator and chief harasser of swimmers.
Toby: Mate of the "Sea Satin", future Channel pilot, secondary harasser of swimmers and auxiliary tea brewer.
Jordan: Official officiant representing the Channel Swimming and Piloting Federation, tea brew master and primary sheep counter.
Andrew Soracco: swim coach, Channel beverage apothecary and poop deck sleeping wizard.
Tim Lee: part time assistant coach, photo/videographer, communication expert, beverage and bottle hurler, water warmer and bhisti and, to coin a new phrase, a "poop deck polymath". (We were very lucky to get him on such notice, he can book up years in advance.)
Here are Toby (left) and Lance (right). This is on the dock after our triumphant, if exhausted return.
Here are Andrew (left) and Tim (right) that is the coast of France in the background.
Jordan proved a little more difficult to photograph, like a snow leopard or a yeti or something. Just as he had materialized out of the dark, simply appearing on the dock about 12:50 AM, so too, when we landed in the afternoon, he seemed to merely dissipate in to the luminiferous aether. Before we lost track of him, we were assured that he would take the required steps to ratify our unofficial time of 12 hours and 41 minutes.
I can't thank these brave souls enough, without them, this crossing would not have been possible. Working all through the night, with disregard for their own comfort, pushing through sea sickness and rain, huge swells, tankers, ferries, the pod of dolphins, they ensured that I was taken care of for every one of the 761 minutes I was swimming.