Katie Pumphrey - Chesapeake Bay Bridge to Baltimore

Sandy Point State Park to Baltimore Inner Harbor
38 km (23.6 miles)
13 hours, 54 minutes on 25 June 2024
Observed and documented by Caroline Block + Stephanie Boyle
First
Contents
- Swimmer
- Support Personnel
- Swim Parameters
- Swim Data & GPS
- Observer Log
- Swimmer Statement
- Photos
- Video
- Media
Swimmer
- Name: Katie Pumphrey
- Gender: female
- Age on swim date: 36
- Nationality: United States
- Resides: Baltimore, Maryland
Support Personnel
Observers
- Caroline Block - MSF core team member, International Marathon Swimming Hall of Fame Honor Swimmer.
- Stephanie Boyle - crewed on DC Marathon Swim, 2023.
Escort Vessel
Swim Parameters
- Category: Solo, nonstop, unassisted.
- Rules: MSF Rules of Marathon Swimming, without exception or modification.
- Equipment used: Textile swimsuit (Jolyn - perry onesie), silicone cap, goggles (Speedo), safety lights.
Route Definition
- Body of Water: Chesapeake Bay and Patapsco River
- Route Type: one-way
- Start Location: 39.0078516 -76.4026517 (Sandy Point State Park)
- Finish Location: 39.2858947 -76.6114178 (Harborplace corner, Baltimore Inner Harbor)
- Minimum Route Distance: 38 km (23.6 miles) (map)
History
No known previous swims of this route.
Swim Data
- Start: 25 June 2024, 03:19:00 (Eastern Daylight Time, America/New_York, UTC-4).
- Finish: 25 June 2024, 17:13:03
- Elapsed: 13 hours, 54 minutes, 3 seconds.
Summary of Conditions
Feature | Min | Max |
---|---|---|
Water Temp (F) | 78 | 89.8 |
Air Temp (F) | 84 | 92 |
Wind (knots) | 3.1 | 7.7 |
GPS Track
Trackpoint frequency: 20 minutes. Download raw data (CSV).
Speed Plot
Nutrition: Feed every 30 min. (Aim to drink 12-16oz liquid due to heat + 1 gu every 30 min). In addition to regular ice water all majority of feeds, I also drank: Gatorade (lemon lime), Hammer Perpetuem aka “Cookie Water” (Orange Vanilla / Orange), Tailwind (Cola) + 1 Gu gel packs every 30 min (cold brew, s’mores, cola).
Observer Log
Swimmer Statement
by Katie Pumphrey
I keep saying, this swim was years in the dreaming and months in the planning, but I am still truly in shock that it happened. Not only does it feel like a miracle that it all came together, but this swim was one of the most incredible days of my life.
To answer the question- “what inspired me to do this swim?”— I need to give a bit of context, not only about the history of Baltimore’s harbor, but also my swimming story and history.
I fell in love with open water swimming in 2010 during my first ever official open water swim— the 4.4 mile Chesapeake Bay swim. I have done a lot of swims, big and small, since that first open water swim in 2010, and since that first swim, I have been dreaming about a swim in Baltimore’s harbor— a swim at home. The details of that dream hometown swim have evolved over the last decade and a half— and it ended up being a much larger and grander swim that I could have ever imagined— but in so many ways, it was a long time coming.
I am a life long Marylander, and have proudly lived in Baltimore for nearly 20 years. This is a city that I have fallen more and more in love with every passing year. It is a charming, welcoming, and wildly down to earth city, full of artists, good food, and a great community. Baltimore is much more than it’s jaded reputation.
I live just blocks from the water here in Baltimore— a short walk to Baltimore’s harbor, on the Patapsco River. For decades, well over a century, our harbor has not been safe for swimming. Over the last several decades, the city of Baltimore and local nonprofits have been working hard to improve the health of the harbor. Updates and changes were made to city infrastructure, public policies on recycling, oyster rehabilitation, education programs, and a family of floating trash interceptors were installed. These efforts has made huge progress to the health of Baltimore’s harbor, bringing more marine life into the Patapsco, and improving the water quality so much it now regularly reach swimmable levels. I have kept a close eye on these improvements and the progressing steps towards the goals of a swimmable Baltimore harbor.
In the fall of 2023, a local nonprofit, Waterfront Partnership announced they would be hosting a “Harbor Splash” event in the summer of 2024. They shared this exciting message with a video of their staff, partners, and advocated jumping in to the harbor. I knew it was time to finally make an open water swim happened. I immediately reached out to Waterfront Partnership in hopes to collaborate on this effort.
In planning my swim— I had three big goals. To complete an open water swim into Baltimore’s Inner Harbor (becoming the first person to do so), to support and highlight Baltimore’s conservation efforts (especially the milestone of a swimmable harbor!), and to celebrate the city and community of Baltimore.
Planning this swim, and all of the possible hurdle in not only making an open water swim of this length safe and smooth, proved to be much more complex than predicted.
After looking at tidal charts, waterair temperature patterns, and after discussing marine and boat traffic influences with the Maryland Pilots Association and Coast Guard Sector Maryland, we narrowed my swim window to mid May. I began gathering sponsorship, and reaching out to charter boats in the area.
Shortly after things started coming into place, and just before announcing this swim to the public, the Francis Scott Key bridge collapsed after being struck by a cargo ship on March 26th, 2024. An incredible effort was made, by so many organizations, the city of Baltimore and the state of Maryland, to recover lives lost in the collapse, clear the Patapsco river, and restore the port. The tragedy not only forever changes the skyline of our city, but is a reminder of the lifeline the Patapsco River has served for our community for decades.
In response to the tragedy of the Key Bridge collapse and in communication with US Coast Guard Sector Maryland, we pushed the swim back to late June give more time for the clean up efforts and be able to safely attempt this swim.
With scheduling conflicts, including Baltimore’s Fleet Week, which brings dozens of large ships into the Patapsco River and Inner Harbor, the best feasible and safest swim window became June 24-27th. We had real concerns about the high water and air temperatures, and that window did not make for the best tide, but we pushed on. Not only was my heart on attempting this swim, but it felt important to send a positive message to Baltimore and share the love and pride we feel for our city.
Originally, when the swim was set to happen in May, we (my husband, Joe Mahach, and I) planned for a ~3am start, which would have meant swimming against an outgoing tide for the first 3-4 hours, while I was at my strongest. After a bit of slack tide, I then would have had a potential push from an incoming tide as we made our way into the Patapsco River, with the aim that I would finish sometime around the height of high tide. However, after we needed to push the swim back to late June, we faced the opposite tide timing. Knowing it would make the swim more challenging (especially with high water temps (80s) and air temps (90s)), we kept the same 3am start time with the plan to finish in the daylight. Finishing in daylight was important, not only because it is mentally helpful, but because we wanted to invite the public to join in celebrating the finish. We knew a ~3am start time, and an estimated 12+ hours (especially knowing I might take longer than predicted due to the heat and tide challenges), we also knew June 24-27 was really the latest window we could aim for, since water temps would continue to increase making it unsafe for an attempt, and we know and alternatively would have needed to look at October. Luckily, the weather cooperated for a June 25th swim.
The swim would start at the far end of Sandy Point State Park. Right next to the jetty. Joe, Captain Todd, and I had taken a boat ride out to the start a couple weeks before to make sure we all knew the plan. With the swim starting in the dark, and with much of the first several miles being along the shoreline of the Chesapeake Bay, we knew it would be hard to see, so we used the jetty as the marker. I would plan to climb out onto the beach, the exact spot where my very first open water swim in 2010 (the 4.4 mile Chesapeake Bay Swim) had started, touch the rocks of the jetty, and then begin. It felt a bit romantic to have that connection to my first ever swim.
The other challenge of the darkness, especially in late June, well into crabbing season, there would also be many (many!) crab pots to navigate around. For safety and for easier navigation (especially in shallower areas and around the crab pots), we decided we would have a support boat and a kayaker in the water at all times. The kayakers (Chris, Sean, Nayev) planned to rotate kayaking every 2 hours.
A second support boat was added with requests from partner organizations and the addition of a documentary team. The second support boat was also helpful with communicating and keeping spectator and press boats at a distance.
Both support boats were provided by and piloted Freedom Boat Club. After a course run through with the primary boat captain, Todd, the course was set aiming for the straightest lines and also in communication with Coast Guard Sector Maryland, especially when planning how to cross the shipping channel and swim through the Key Bridge area.
Crew wise, we planned to have a larger crew than previous swims of mine, not only because this was an unprecedented swim, but because this was a swim at home. Bringing friends, family was wildly special.
The Crew consisted of our pilot, Captain Todd, my husband Joe as Crew Chief, three kayakers, my brothers Sean & Chris Pumphrey, as well as my niece Nayev Pumphrey, and two support swimmers, my friends Meaghan Carpenter & Sarah Eikrem. We had two observers- one on the primary boat, marathon swimmer and friend, Caroline Block, and the other on the secondary support boat, my friend, Stephanie Boyle.
The Secondary Support Boat was captained by Allen Rex. Also on board (two on the primary boat, and one on the secondary boat) were three members of a documentary team, from Boob Sweat Films. They also had a drone videographer, Damien Rintelmann, following along from the shore. Also on the secondary boat was a backup boat captain, Bobby LaPin, there in case Todd or Allen needed a break, as well as my friend Christine Haeseler (she helped a lot with social media updates, my physical therapist Mary Miller, Chelsea Anspach from Waterfront Partnership, and a photographer Caitlin Newman and videographer Stokely Baksh from the Baltimore Banner. It was definitely the largest team I’ve ever had for a swim. It felt so special to have so many people there every stroke of the way.
Around 1:30am, on June 25th, 2024, after checking and double checking the bags, my husband Joe and I loaded the gear and coolers into the car, which included dozens of water bottles and the 52 sandwiches Joe had made for the crew. I kissed my dogs, double checked for the 20th time that I had my cap and goggles, and we headed out. My nerves were jittery, but calm.
We met the crew in the parking lot of my studio, a 118 year old warehouse building in Southeast Baltimore, which as you can imagine, looks very creepy at 12:45am. Most of us loaded into a van, provided by Freedom Car (thank you, sponsors!), and made out way to Podickory Point Marina. It’s about a 40 minute ride, and the energy was buzzing.
It took a while to load all of our gear, and while I had made boat assignments to keep things running smoothly and balance the numbers between the two boats, I had forgotten to tell everyone to pack LIGHT. Between coolers, gear, and everyone’s personal bags, we had a bit too much weight for the two tritoon boats. While a tritoon is slighter longer and wider than a pontoon boat, it’s still a relatively small vessel. So everyone spent a bit of time shuffling bags until the weight worked. This meant we left the marina and got to the start a bit later than planned, but there was no point stressing about it, and it all worked out.
Just after 3am, we slowly made our way out of the marina, and headed out into the Chesapeake Bay. The moon was high and bright, lighting up the water and our path forward. The wind was softly blowing a warm air, reminding me just how warm it was. We made our way towards the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, which was lit up with bright and blinking lights. Cars passed over the bridge, more cars than I thought there would be in the middle of the night, but something about that gave me comfort. We got close to the bridge, and made our way towards the beach slowly, dodging crab pots along the way.
As the boat slowed, moving along the jetty and in towards the beach, Nayev helped me apply another round of sunblock, along with Body Glide and Aquaphor, my preferred anti-chafe combo. My brother Chis made his way into the kayak, which was now lit up with glow sticks hanging from the sides. I put my cap on, secured my two glow sticks, and turned on the light attached to my goggles. The crew cheered, I shared thank yous, hugs, and smiles. It was finally happening! The nervous energy felt extra fun this time. I hugged Joe again and joked “which way”- a joke that we’ve made since one of my first longer swims in 2014— it makes me giggle every time.
Joe suggested I first sit on the boat’s platform and slide into the water, since it was only 2 feet deep. I sat down, swung my feet in, and the warmth of the water hit me with a quick wave of worry. I knew it would be warm, but oh boy. With water temps at 78 at the start, and 71 air temperature, it really felt like a bathtub. It would be another 6 hours until the air was hotter than the water.
I hopped in and even though I knew it was shallow, the bottom surprised me a bit. I took a few steps forward, the sandy bottom was very squishy and warm. I dipped down into the warm water, and took a few strokes towards the beach. Chris followed next to me in the kayak. I followed a light the boat was shining on the beach for me, I swam mostly with my head up. It didn’t take too many strokes before my finger tips were hitting the sand.
As I made my way onto the beach I noticed a camera crew making their way down the beach- I would later learn that was the local Fox news station. Usually I feel absolutely alone on the beach at the start of a swim, and typically that’s were I say “Who’s idea was this?” and a few nervous “Oh f#ck”s out loud to myself. It was a weird feeling to have so many people watching me, also knowing that would only increase throughout the day. We had invited it, of course. We wanted this to make a lot of noise, bring a lot of attention to Baltimore, and hopefully make history. I was hoping people would follow and tune in for this swim- I would be the first person to do this swim, if I was successful. I definitely felt that pressure on my shoulders, but once I was on that beach it all melted away. I reminded myself that “it’s just swimming, have fun with it” - which of course I said out loud to myself, very much aware there were cameras on me documenting talking to myself, which also made me giggle. That helped. Before and during a swim, I also always repeat to myself, especially in moments of nerves or worry, “this is what you’re doing today.” That phrase is a good reminder that this was in fact, my idea, and there’s no point in thinking about the after, be in the now. That phrase is especially helpful when pain and doubts creep in, and then I start thinking about how comfortable it would be to lay down on the boat. “This is what you’re doing today.” It always keeps me pull it together.
Making sure I was all the way out of the water, I planted both hands on the rocks of the jetty. I wanted to make a clear visual and note that I was beyond the waters edge, and that the starting point was all the way against the jetty. The rocks felt cool, which was lovely.
After a few deep breaths, I waved my arms over my head to signal the start. Captain Todd sounded the horn, the crew cheered, and I stepped back into the water. Wading in, I pushed my goggles in a few more times, and told Chris “let’s do this.” Taking the first few strokes into this swim, I felt so much pressure and nervousness lift, and I exhaled a bit calmer. I knew this was going to be a tough swim and a long day, especially with water temp in the 80s, but once it had started, there was no point in worrying anymore. Let’s do this.
The start of the swim was choppy and dark, and it took me a while to really find a rhythm. The plan was for the boats to move out a bit, into deeper water so they could easily avoid crab pots, and I would stay with Chris in the kayak. The idea here was I could maintain the straightest, shortest line up the shoreline and not have to add distance swinging wide. I typically breathe to my left, so Chris stayed on that side, and I just stayed next to him. The glow sticks on the side of the kayak really helped, but the first issue was Chris’s headlamp. He needed that light to see forward, and navigate around the crab pots, but every time he looked at me, I was blinded. It also lit up the water, which was fine, but every time he looked back forward it felt like a shadow moving below me. The first few times that really made my heart rate jump. While I don’t really worry about sharks during swims, they of course come into my mind, and especially at night my imagination always plays a few tricks on me. I knew his head lamp was creating the creepy shadow movement and not anything below me, but my goodness, it tested my nerves a bit.
I tried dropping back a bit and kept thinking I’ll adjust to the light blinding me, but I found myself sighting forward to avoid the light, a move that its less than ideal at the start of a 12-14 hour swim. Sighting forward did help spot a fisherman’s line that stretched out in front of us. It was just ahead of us, right at Chris’s height, glowing in the light of his head lamp. Getting close-lined by a fishing line wouldn’t have been fun. Luckily, we spotted it and moved around it. Swimming by fishing lines always give me the creeps. Later I would see an interview with that fisherman. He was surprised and excited to see us out there, sharing “I’m rooting for her.” I love that.
Just before my first feed, I got the signal from Chris, a spinning glow stick, to pick up the pace. For all of my big swims, feeds are every 30 minutes. I used to go for an hour before the first feed, but mentally I like every 30 right away. Within every 30 minute block, I swim 25 minute “at pace” and then with a signal to go, I swim 5 minute “fast”. These “pickups” aren’t wildly faster (especially as the day goes on), but typically it wakes me up a bit and really helps to keep my pace and stroke rate on track. I learned this strategy from Marcia Cleveland’s memoir, Dover Solo, and have found it to be wildly helpful.
At my first feed, I told the crew my goggles were still fogging a lot in the warm water and I had already gulped a lot of Bay water in the chop, yum. Joe tossed me a water bottle from the boat. We had a few feeds in the kayak, but the boat was still pretty close. I tossed back some “cookie water” aka orange vanilla Hammer Perpetuem carbprotein mix. I call it cookie water because it takes like cookies. Unfortunately, this bottle and the next couple I would drink on this swim were the last of my supply and much to my dismay, Hammer had discontinued the flavor just months before this swim. It has been my go to feed for the last 10 years, so definitely a bummer. I had gotten Orange flavor perpetuem as backup, but it was just not the same, and in fact, plain orange flavor tasted like soap. Yuck.
I kept that feed mildly quick and got back to it, but after a bit more time of being blinded by Chris’s head lamp, and the chop was tossing me around bit, I requested a change. I felt like a blind, clumsy noodle, and I was officially grumpy. It wasn’t the worst night time chop I’ve ever swam in, but combine that with foggy goggles and already feeling hot, I quickly needed something to improve. I shouted to the crew that I just can’t see and this feels awful. Joe said no worries, (Joe always exudes all of the calm vibes. He really is the best), and suggested that Chris in the kayak move to my right and the primary boat could go ahead and get into position on my left. I knew we had been concerned with crab pots, but if they thought it was okay, I was more than happy to roll with it. That is one big thing I’ve learned, no matter how much you’ve planned a swim, once you are in the water, trust your crew.
With the boat now on my left, I immediately I felt so much better. Sighting off the boat was 10x easier and while it was still pretty choppy, I quickly got into a rhythm. I had asked, as I do for all of my night time swims, for the crew to wear glow sticks, so it was fun to see them all lit up with green necklaces and red glowing head lamps. Chris’s head lamp was still a white light to see crab pots on his end, and the secondary boat moved behind us, shining it’s front light on us, so while the water was still very dark with my head down, with every breath things felt lit up like a Christmas tree.
During the third or fourth feed, I shared my first dumb joke- a classic I had shared on past swims, and at the time the only joke I could think of. Usually I try to remember a few silly jokes to share. Remembering them is a challenge, but it usually gives my brain something to do every now and then, plus I really look forward to the next feed to be able to share it. This swim, my go to first joke was: “What do you call a nosey pepper?”
“Jalapeño business.”
My crew laughed like it was the funniest thing they had ever heard, which is like rule number 4 of Katie’s rules. If I make a joke, laugh. Being silly, even when I feel like garbage, helps me stay in a mental good place, and it tends to wake me up a bit. I later learned, I then forgot and I shared the jalapeño joke two more times. What a hoot.
2 hours in, Sean took a shift in the kayak. Chris definitely had the toughest shift kayaking in the darkest hours. Shortly after, the sun started to rise, making a lovely glow to my right. We saw some huge ships out in the Bay, which I always really enjoy. As the sky lit up with more colors, I thought a lot about a painting in my studio. It was a 9x12 foot painting I had been working on for about a year, but had reached a stand still. For the next hour or so I brainstormed how I would compete that painting. It was based on a 1778 painting, called “Watson and the Shark” by John Singleton Copley. His piece is based on a true story and dramatically depicts a teenage boy, Watson being attacked by a shark in Havana Harbor. (Spoiler alert: he lived and later commissioned the painting. Wild.) My painting would use the same composition, but I wanted to play with the color palette and use imagery from my swims.
While the sun rose and my crews faces came more and more into view, I popped my head up a few times, and asked my niece, Nayev, to record a few colors I was seeing in the sunrise.
Creamsicle orange, cotton candy pink, Periwinkle purple, and the specific radiant light blue of Gamblin brand oil paint. The glow of everyone’s red headlamps, and the blaze of Joe’s neon yellow shirt. I didn’t want to forget. I knew I wanted to remember this scene. I knew I wanted this view, the boat with my crew, to be the figures in my painting. I also joked with myself, thinking about this painting, because it meant the swimmer in the water was me. I was Watson. I had a good little laugh, thinking, our stories better be different. No shark encounters today, please.
(Again, I am not really worried about sharks, especially with this swim. I do acknowledge they have likely seen me in many swims, but the likelihood we’d see a shark in the Chesapeake Bay,
pretty low. Still, my imagination goes wild, and by this time in the swim, I had already played the movie Jaws in my head, at least twice.)
The sunrise was truly beautiful. One of the best I had ever seen during a swim. We were by one of my favorite lighthouses, the Baltimore Harbor Light, and the sun was rising just behind it.
First lit in 1908, the Baltimore Harbor Light sits at the mouth of the Magothy River, marking the channel and leading northwest to the opening of the Patapsco River. With the sun up, I felt a huge wave of confidence. I was just so happy this swim was happening, and now with the sun up, things were getting exciting. Passing our first major landmark was such a good feeling, and a magical reminder we were headed toward Baltimore.
Just before my next feed, with the sun making it’s way higher, Joe was the last to turn off his red headlamp. I celebrated this moment, shouting YESSSS, under water, knowing we were really making our way. I’m a big fan of celebrating the little moments, especially when you know it will get harder.
I really enjoyed the “cold brew” gel during the next few feeds. It was my morning coffee. Throughout much of the swim, especially after the sun came up, my feeds were a bit longer than my usual. I have never been wildly fast with feeds, but especially as the day went on, taking a longer feed, 2-3 minutes long, was really helpful to cool down a bit. The air was still cooler than the water for much of the day, and that bit of time with my head up really did help cool down. Joe and I had planned for aggressive hydration. While I typically aim to get 8-10oz down each feed, for this swim I was really pushing it to take in 8-10oz of “cookie water” or Gatorade, and also another 8oz of plain ice water. All of my liquids were kept in the cooler and they added fresh ice before the feed. I had dehydration issues during and after my 2nd English Channel swim, which really spooked me, so especially with such hot water temperatures, I didn’t want to mess around. I was peeing like a race horse every feed, right on schedule, so I knew I doing great.
I took a bit longer on feeds, also because I wanted to make sure I really took it all in. This was a dream swim, and I would be the first person to do it. I wanted to push my pace and do it well, but this swim required so much planning, and so many organizations had put in decades of hard work to get Baltimore to a swimmable harbor. This was big. I wanted to soak up every minute.
This was also a wildly different swim than I had ever experienced. Now with the sun up, we had company. People were out on docks and along the shoreline with signs. A news helicopter had joined us, and would then follow us for over an hour. A few other news helicopters made their way by through out the day, and especially as we got closer to Baltimore, they stayed with us for much of the day. The sound of a helicopter was definitely a new noise to experience during a long swim, usually it’s just us out there. Luckily, for me, I couldn’t hear much underwater.
As we made our way into the mouth of the Patapsco River, Sarah joined me in the water. We train together and I really know her stroke, so it was a lot of fun to know she was pushing her pace to stick with me. She had fins on to really push my pace, which was a lot of fun.
With the wind in our favor and the tide was pushing us forward, I was really moving. I was feeling fast. I knew that wouldn’t last forever, but it was great to enjoy it while it lasted. Around 7:30am, and about 10 miles in, we started making our way around the turn and into the Patapsco River.
Not long after we entered the Patapsco River, the skyline of Baltimore started coming into view. It was really exciting. It looked so close, and I was making such good time. I had to remind myself, the tide is going to switch, things are going to get harder. Don’t get too excited.
One big thing I’ve learned from other swims, it where ever you are headed is farther away than it looks. I also knew exactly how far I had to go. When you’re out in the middle of a channel, it is really hard to tell distance, and while often I can guess based on time or daylight, typically I put distance out of my mind. With this swim, I had personally planned it. I knew the map and had the miles marked in my head. For much of this swim, I could not only see land, but I could see big landmarks. I knew right where we were. That knowledge can be tough. It can make moments of pain and doubt a bit tougher to get past, but at this point, knowing we were making good time and cruising into the Patapsco River was a big confidence boost.
Per MSF and English Channel rules, which I always swim by, Sarah got out after an hour of support swimming. It was a lot of fun having her next to me. Chris got back in for another shift in the kayak. Nayev shared a few fun oyster facts, per my request.
The stretch from the mouth of the Patapsco to the Key Bridge was steady, but the tide was starting to slack, helping me less and less, but the sun was up. Way up, warming my body even more.
We had many visitors, some I knew, and some strangers cheering us on. I was especially excited to see a sailboat of open water swimmers, from the Arundel Breakfast Club in Annapolis. I have joined ABC for many open water swims over the years. They are a wildly fun group, with a lot of open water swimming experience. To hear “Yay Katie! ABC is with you!” made my heart sing. A few spectators on paddle boards came out and a few other boats came by. The news helicopters were really sticking with us at this point. Joe even did a live interview with a new outlet or two via FaceTime, which was really fun to watch while swimming. I fought the urge to make faces with every breath.
Between 9:00 and 10:00am the air temperature caught up with the air. Both were at 80 degrees (26.6c) and my body was really feeling it. My body ached with warmth, and I was very thankful for the 800mg of Ibuprofen I had taken a few feeds earlier. With every feed there were multiple bottles on the line, and I was chugging water best I could. Nayev took a shift in the kayak, and immediately helped me spot some fun birds. So many cormorants, my favorite marine birds, flew by. And of course, many many seagulls. I had a seagull follow me for over an hour during my 2nd English Channel swim, so I’ve always had a soft spot for gulls. Who run the world? GULLS.
As we got closer to the Key Bridge, Someone on a jet ski had joined us. It wasn’t until the next feed I got to say hello, and I was pleasantly surprised it was fellow Maryland open water swimmer, Chris Stevens. He ended up sticking with us all the way to the end! He was especially helpful in this stretch before the Key Bridge, zooming ahead to tell boaters to slow down or move further away.
The hour before reaching the Key Bridge area really dragged on, and I could feel the tide turning against me. I thought a lot about how I was going to feel swimming through the Key Bridge area. Part of me kept thinking about what I had thought this moment would feel like. When I dreamed up this swim and we started planning it, I thought swimming under the Key Bridge and crossing into Baltimore City would feel like a magical moment. It wasn’t going to be like that. I knew it was going to be much harder. Emotionally heavy, and weird, but it was much harder than I imagined.
When we finally made it to the Key Bridge, Joe told me we would be going under the last remaining span. He had been in touch with Coast Guard Sector Maryland, and they directed us through. We were passing under the last remaining span, just 3 months after the bridge had collapsed.
On March 26, 2024, the container ship Dali struck one of the bridge’s piers, causing the main span and much of the Northeast spans to collapse. Six members of a maintenance crew working on the roadway died, while two more were rescued from the river. It was heartbreaking for our community, and was a story shared around the world.
As we moved under the shadow of the span, I flipped onto my back to swim backstroke. I always swim backstroke under bridges. It’s usually a lot of fun and quite magical. This felt different. I had planned to swim backstroke no matter where we ended up passing through. But seeing the sun disappear behind the span and to my left was just open, where a bridge had been. It all hit me like a ton of bricks. Tears filled my goggles and I gasped a bit for air. It was only a minute or two, before the sun creeped back out from behind the span. I took a few deep breaths, and turned back over and kept swimming.
Around 1pm, I had been swimming for nearly 10 hours. The sun was high and wildly hot. So hot. The water temperature was up to 82.3f (27.9c) and the air temp was climbing to 90. The tide was widely strong against me, and it felt like I wasn’t going anywhere. I fought the urge to ask how much farther, instead I would ask Joe “am I making any progress?” He assured me I was still moving and making good pace, but I knew I had slowed down a lot. I knew I would, but wow it was defeating. Fort McHenry was dead set in front of us, and after a few feeds it didn’t look any closer.
Sarah got in, and after a few minutes she stopped to take her fins off. I know my usual pace is faster than Sarah, and even after 10 hours of swimming I wanted to believe I still had her. My body was really screaming, and I so badly wanted an ice cream, but when Sarah took her fins off and handed them to someone on the boat, it lit a fire in me. Part of me thinks they planned it on purpose to trick me to swimming faster. Either way, it worked. I kicked into gear, and after a few more minutes, Sarah asked for her fins back. I giggled with delight.
Between Sarah’s fins scheme and 1000mg of Tylenol, I was feeling better, but felt like at any moment I could loose my nerve. Fort McHenry was closer, but still a ways off. The port was to our right and I just wanted to see more progress. Just as I was feeling my emotional meter dip towards negative, which sometimes brews a few tears, I saw something magical ahed. A pirate ship was getting closer. Yes, a pirate ship. This is the part of my swim story where things become exceptionally Baltimore.
So just before we had left the marina, I heard rumblings that my sister Laura had planned to commandeer Baltimore’s Urban Pirates, a local charter pirate ship. I truly love that I overheard this, because I loved looking forward to it. I wasn’t sure when they’d show up, and really I thought they would be much closer to the finish, so I hadn’t thought much about it for the last hour or so. But just as I needed it, a pirate ship honking it’s horn moved closer. They were blasting Disney songs, waving swords, and cheering. I couldn’t make out any faces, but I could hear my sisters voice above all. As they got closer I saw my sister Laura, with my niece Ella and nephews Brett and Miles. My parents were there waving, along with more family and friends. They were all decked out in my orange swim tees and pirate gear. Laura yelled “Do you have any booty?!” I replied, in my best pirate voice, “Do you have any rum?” We all laughed and cheered, and I sang along to “Make a Man Out of You” from Mulan. It was truly the energy I needed.
It was hard to put my head back down and get back to work, but I felt so great knowing more family and friends were there. My mom had never been to one of my big swims before. She gets sea sick, so other boat rides are out of the question. I always feel I swim faster when I know more people are watching, and as we made our way into Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, I knew a lot of people were watching.
From the moment that pirate ship joined us, we were joined by more and more people. The last 3 hours of the swim, we were joined by boats, kayakers, paddle boarders, and the shore was filled with more and more people. It was the wildest, most magical thing I have ever experienced.
Making our way past the port, workers drove out to the water’s edge and waved. We finally started to make our way Fort McHenry and into the harbor. With about 3 miles to go, the heat was really rising, and I had to push myself to keep the pace up. Meaghan hopped in, and within a few strokes we locked eyes. She matched my stroke rate exactly. We were mirrored, stroke for stroke. It was some of the most fun buddy swimming I have ever done. It felt epic.
We made our way past Canton and Fells Point. People were out cheering on every water front. I waved to people cheering from the Under Armour headquarters, and shot an air high five to Meaghan as she got out. I knew we weren’t far now. Part of me wanted to haul ass to the finish, but there was also so much to see and take in. I didn’t want to miss the views. It was tough to keep my head down and stop smiling like a fool. The last stretch just kept getting more and more fun, and absolutely unbelievable.
A local tug boat and the fire boat were out, spraying a water canon salute. As we made our way closer, I spotted Mr Trash Wheel! (I told you this story would become more Baltimore.) For those that don’t know, or maybe are confused my the photos from this part of my swim. Mr. Trash Wheel is a local celebrity, Baltimore landmark, and is a member of the semiautonomous trash interceptor family in the Baltimore Harbor and surrounding waters. He gobbles up trash through a conveyor belt, has goggly eyes, and we love him. He is a proud program of Waterfront Partnership, my collaborator and partner for this swim. When they said he could join me for the last mile, I was so excited, but seeing Mr Trash Wheel out waiting for me was just so fun. A Baltimore honor.
As we made our way closer, I could see the Waterfront Partnership team, and crew from Clear Water Mills (they take care of Mr Trash Wheel), aboard and cheering. I shouted, “we’re doing it!” They drove Mr. Trash Wheel forward and joined the flotilla. My team was now flanked local kayakers, paddle boarders, a tug boat, fire boat, and the historic Mildred Belle buyboat. Mr.
Trash Wheel followed like a Mr Pacman chasing us in. News helicopters still flew overhead. It as the coolest, silliest, wildest, most wonderful Baltimore scene.
We passed Harbor Point and started to make our way past the Domino Sugar factory, making the turn into the Inner Harbor. The last stretch. I stopped many times to wipe my goggles. They kept filling with happy tears. I tried to share thank yous to my team as we got closer, but I am not entirely sure they heard me. It was just such an incredible day.
Nayev had been kayaking the last couple hours at this point, and I had hoped she would kayak me into the finish. Joe said the main boat would stay with me until we get close to the Constellation, a tall ship docked by the finish in the Inner Harbor. It would be a narrow area into the finish. Nayev would stay with me all the way in. The crew cheered, and Joe and I shared many looks of, “THIS IS SO COOL!” I wish I could bottle the last few hours, and especially the last few minutes of this swim. It was just so wild.
As we rounded past the National Aquarium, and the waterway narrows, I kept looking forward towards Harborplace. I had been looking forward to seeing the Harborplace pavilions, and as they came into view, I couldn’t quite make out what I was looking at. It was a flood of color, moving and vibrating. It was people! The finish area was packed with people, cheering and holding signs. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I was hoping people follow this swim and come to the finish, but my goodness, Baltimore showed up.
I so badly wanted to empty my goggles, the tears were really flowing now, but I was so close. After so much planning, set backs, and decades of doubt in Baltimore’s harbor, we were sending a huge message. Love to and for Baltimore. Belief in environmental progress and the hard work of so many people. I had called this swim my love letter to Baltimore, and as I took the last strokes in towards the finish, I was blown away by the love I felt from our city. I started to pull ahead of Nayev and she pumped her paddle in the air. I was so proud my 20 year niece was with the one to kayak me in. I kicked hard and sighted every stroke for the last few yards, and when I got to the wall, I slapped it with so much pride.
Cheers erupted, the Constellation’s cannons fired, and my crew sounded the horn. I had swum the 24 miles from the Chesapeake Bay Bridge to Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, becoming the first person to do so and making history in the process. This swim not was meant to celebrate the milestone of a swimmable harbor for Baltimore, and share love for this city, but it was all so much bigger than I could have imagined. I will forever replay that finish in my head.
We had done it. 13 hours, 54 minutes. I finished at 5:13pm.
Photos
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