Swimming to Antarctica
by Lynne Cox
When I stepped outside the Orlova, I was hit by a blast of glacial wind. Goose
pimples rose up all over my body, and my hair whorled around my head like helicopter
rotors. Quickly, I retreated into the ship, trying to conserve every calorie of body heat.
The water temperature in Admiralty Bay was 33 degrees Fahrenheit, and the air
temperature was thirty-four degrees, but the wind off the surrounding glaciers made it
feel as if I were standing inside a freezer. Winding my hair around my hand and
pushing it into either side of my swim cap, I went back outside and stepped onto the
gangway. I looked up and saw clouds rushing past the glaciers. Holding my goggles in
my left hand and clutching the railing, feeling the ice-cold metal against my feet, I
walked down the stairs. Pausing for a moment, I saw the crew below in the three
Zodiacs1
, looking tense and excited. When I reached the platform at the base of the
gangway, I sat down, and it felt as if I were sitting on a wet metal ice-cube tray. The
platform was swaying and rolling. The waves were an icy, silvery blue, breaking inches
below my feet. I leaned backward to gain momentum and then threw myself forward.
The water was searing cold. I felt as if I were naked, standing still, and being
sprayed with ice water from a high-pressure hose, and it took all my focus to move. I
swam with my head above water, panting. It was incredibly difficult to catch my breath;
my lungs felt as if they were being squeezed in a tight corset. I couldn’t get them to
expand fully, but I needed oxygen. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to continue for more
than a couple of minutes unless I overcame my inclination to hyperventilate. I forced
myself to slow down, to pull in a breath through my mouth, and then to blow it all the
way out. It was extremely tiring, but concentrating on my breath prevented me from
thinking about the cold. As my breathing evened out, I began to notice other sensations.
The water felt different from any other water I’d swum in, as if it were more solid than
fluid, as though I were swimming through a liquid Sno-Kone. I checked my hands.
They were red and swollen and, like my feet, had become numb and achy. I was barely
kicking, but I always swam this way: ninety-nine per cent of my propulsion through the
water comes from my arms and upper body, while my legs just stabilize my stroke. One
friend, who had spent years studying polar bears, told me I swam like a polar bear,
which uses its feet as a rudder, probably, he said, as a means of containing heat.
Because I wasn’t kicking, I wasn’t pumping much blood to my feet and legs. I paused
in mid-stroke to look at my watch. I had been swimming for only a minute.
5
10
15
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25
Go On
30
In this article, Lynne Cox describes how she prepared for a successful attempt to swim one
mile in Antarctic waters by doing a trial swim in the 33-degree waters of Admiralty Bay,
Antarctica. The Orlova is her support boat.
Lesson 5 3 1
A wave shattered in my face. I choked, and started to panic. I knew I had to keep
swimming; it was too cold to stop. I kept spinning my arms, trying to swallow and clear
my throat. Another wave slammed into my face. I was choking harder, and feeling even
more panicked. I couldn’t breathe. I considered rolling over onto my back, but decided it
was too cold and this would slow me down too much. Instead, I put my head into the
water so that I was no longer choking on the spray. My body flattened, and I began
swimming through the water instead of climbing up against it. It was easier to breathe; I
could roll my head and shoulder to one side or the other. I was almost swimming
normally, pulling, pushing, gliding through the water, slipping under the waves, letting
them wash over me, each stroke strong and fluid. As I moved across the sub-Antarctic sea,
I looked at the glaciers that encircled the harbor. My torso and head felt warm on the
inside, and I relaxed just a little. Turning my head left on a breath, then right on another
breath, then lifting my head up, I looked at the faces of the crew, which were filled with
concern. I lifted my right foot out of the water and waved it. This was a signal that
everything was O.K. They grinned and waved back.
When I glanced at my watch again, I saw that I had reached my goal of ten
minutes. But the more I could do now, I thought, the more confidence I would have for the
final swim; indeed, if the weather turned, this could be my only opportunity to swim.
When I reached the fifteen-minute mark, I glanced down and saw five or six streams of
bubbles that looked like vapor trails in the sky—penguins were swimming so fast
underneath me that all I could see was their bubbles. To my left were icebergs. We were
moving into their float path, and the crew began shouting warnings to me, pointing at the
water. I swam around the bergs, and my arms started to feel colder. I could see that we
were getting closer to the beach, but the intensity of the cold was sapping my strength.
Large chunks of ice were floating all around me, drifting at a rate of about a knot,2 parallel
to the beach. The entire crew was on full alert, helping me to steer through the iceberg
field. A piece the size of a soccer ball bounced off my forehead, and it brought hot tears to
my eyes. Another piece, twice as big, hit me on the side of the head. I shook my head to
ease the pain, and increased my speed, trying to get clear of the ice field.
The crew got out of the boats and scrambled up the embankment, waiting for me
with towels and blankets. Ten feet from shore, I saw smooth gray rocks, and then the
bottom rose up to meet me. I turned my head to breathe, and saw some of the passengers
from the Orlova who had been hiking along the shore. They were running toward us,
slipping a little on the ice, and waving. As I stood up, I heard cheers and muffled clapping.
I had surprised everyone, including myself. I’d planned to swim for only ten minutes, but
I had been in the water for twenty-two minutes and fourteen seconds.
Why does the author describe how her“hair whorled around my head like helicopter rotors” (lines 2 and 3)? A to show the size of the bay B to show how cold the air was C to show how fast the boat was D to show the power of the wind According to lines 15 through 32, how is the narrator similar to a polar bear? A They both prefer to swim on their backs. B They both expand their lungs in orderto insulate themselves from the cold. C They both move quickly through the water. D They both keep their core temperatures high by keeping their legs still. What was the mainpurpose of the narrator’s trial swim? A to enhanceher reputation B to bring attention to the region C to learn how to adapt to the conditions D to determine the best route to the shore 4 Go On What is the meaning of “hyperventilate” in line 20? A move with a lot of energy B breathe too rapidly C hold one’s breath D lose one’s focus