Swimming to Antarctica

by Lynne Cox

I found this book one evening when I went to pick up the sequel to Quicksilver. It sounded inspirational, and exciting, and a like perfect escape. Something I'd never do (I only swim well enough not to drown), in places that I'd love to go (lakes in Iceland, across the English Channel, across the Bering Strait, around the Cape of Good Hope and Tierra del Fuego). And of course, to Antarctica. It's an amazing story of triumph over the elements. I was expecting it to be a bit like Into Thin Air but it's more of a story of athleticism than disaster.

The stories are great though the style is brisk (which isn't generally my favorite, but I guess it works for a sports narrative). I do wish there were a more personal side of the story available, like coping with family stresses, relationship ups and downs, or other non-swimming-related Grand Decisions and Events. It would make it a more well-rounded autobiography. Or maybe I'm just nosy.

"This time, it felt as if I were swimming through ice soup. Tiny blades of ice ricocheted off my body. With a quick sigh, I made it through that section. But a large berg was now directly beside us. There was no way I could swim over it, so I decided to stop for a moment and let it slide pass. That was a mistake. The icy cold water quickly seemed to pull the warmth from the marrow of my bones...
After the swim, Dena told me that I had swum in thirty-eight-degree water. It took me at least two hours of shivering to get my body temperature back to normal. We took it immediately after I got out of the water, and it was the same as when I'd started the swim. I'm sure it dropped once the swim was over, but I wasn't interested in trying to get a temperature by that point; all I wanted to do was get warm."