Daunting even for Ironmen

11 people swam across the North Channel

For many people, swimming is a gentle hobby, a refreshing dip in the lake on a summer morning, a few laps in the local pool, at most, it is part of a triathlon training plan. But for a determined group of 11 swimmers from Virginia, it became something much more profound – a journey of courage and exhilaration. Their adventure took them across the open sea from Ireland to Scotland, a swim that would test their strength of minds more than their bodies.

Everyone in the group had previously completed half or full Ironmans, one swimmer, Jennifer Doonan, annually swims the 7km stretch of Lough Ramor.

“So it was like we were doing it for a bit of fun, just to have something different,” Jim McDevitt recounts quite casually. He is one of the 11 people who swam from Donaghadee, in North Down, to Portpatrick on Scotland's west coast in a relay format.

Once their slot was confirmed with the booking company, the athletes were on standby from Sunday, June 15 – potentially until the following Saturday. After a false alarm on Tuesday, they were informed the weather looked promising later in the week, and they would leave on Friday at 5am from the shore of County Down. Jim set off to a good start: “In the first hour getting away from Ireland, I did 3.6 kilometres.”

On two small boats beside him were the pilot, a medic and the others waiting their turn. Quite relaxed it seems, with flasks of tea, sandwiches, a tin whistle and a flute.

“It was the first music session on board for the crew,” Jim recalls, which exemplifies how chilled the Cavan swimmers were.

At its heart, swimming offers a serenity that few other activities provide. When you’re slicing through still morning waters in a calm lake, with nothing but the sound of your own breath and the rhythmic slap of your stroke, there's a meditative peace that settles over you.

“You put your head down and you just start your stroke and next thing you forget you’re in the water and think of other things in your life.”

Many of the participants train up to three times a week in Virginia's lough. Jim describes it as social, calming, and for the "aging knees of ex-runners and cyclists, it’s the perfect low-impact alternative”.

But this swim was no ordinary lake paddle. The linear distance to Scotland is 35km. Unlike lake swimming, where land is never far from view, the North Channel is a long, daunting stretch with nothing but water on all sides.

“None of us had ever experienced that,” Jim admits.

Currents made the route more of a zigzag than a straight line. Fighting the pull of the sea was relentless. In fact, one swimmer from a different group, a 4km-per-hour athlete, only managed 500 metres in an hour - just enough to keep the team from drifting backwards.

“There were moments when it felt like no matter how hard you swam, you weren’t going anywhere,” Jim describes. “Depending on where you were in the channel, you could be absolutely beaten by the water.”

So the task wasn’t to swim far, it was to maintain position, to hand over to the next swimmer without losing ground, to not drift. That psychological game of pushing forward while going nowhere - of knowing you could give it your all and still remain suspended in place - was perhaps the hardest of all.

Originally planned for eight swimmers, it grew to eleven when more members were able to commit. They prepared well. So well, that Jim says: “Overall it was a big swim, but individually it wasn’t.”

The most challenging was the psychological momentum of the open sea. Swimming in water so deep you can’t even imagine the bottom.

“At one point we were over the trench, 300 metres down,” Jim recalls.

“You’re just suspended in this blue void. It plays tricks on your mind.” And nature doesn’t politely keep its distance.

Jellyfish drifted into wetsuits, seals occasionally popped up nearby, and one swimmer even found himself pushing through whale excrement.

The final few hundred meters of their 45km journey to Scotland were completed as a group, a moment made difficult by Scotland’s treacherous shoreline currents. But once they made it, emotions ran high. Fourteen hours and fifty-nine minutes after they left Ireland, they stepped onto land again - together.

The swim was largely self-funded and not initially tied to any charity, but the group has since agreed to collect donations for causes close to their hearts, including cancer research and local water rescue services.

“We didn’t want to take money in advance in case the weather meant we couldn’t go,” Jim explains. “Once we had it completed, we felt comfortable inviting people to support causes we care about.”

Back home, their swim community is thriving. In Virginia, Sunday morning swims in the lake have become a beloved ritual. Swimmers of all levels show up—not just triathletes or marathon swimmers, but those doing breaststroke for a kilometre, or just floating for half an hour to clear the mind. Jim encourages everyone to join.

“There’s coffee and tea waiting afterwards.” Whether it’s a few minutes in a quiet bay or a just under 15-hour sea odyssey, swimming offers something more than movement: it offers peace, clarity, and courage.