Amanda Bowden, 56, was taking on the English Channel with a packet of biccies and her favourite pink lippy. But would she make it to France?
Bobbing up and down on the water, I felt a bit icky. I’d always loved swimming, but in the past, I’d stuck to the local leisure centre pool and the odd lido. Until I met Louise, an open-water swimmer, who’d come along to one of the workshops I ran as part of my business, The Swimming Seamstress. It was where I taught women to make their own bespoke bathing suits.
Intrigued, I’d gone along with her in the sea at my local beach in Felixstowe, Suffolk. Feeling cold and a bit seasick, I’d only lasted seven minutes but it made me feel so alive! On my next attempt, I managed to stay in the water for 12 minutes.
Now I headed to the beach for a dip most days, making sure to look the part in one of my handmade cossies – and a slick of matching waterproof lippy. My husband, Tim, and our grown-up kids, Gideon and Ella, thought I was batty, but I’d fallen for open swimming hook, line and sinker.
Louise, who I affectionately nicknamed Fish Face, was an open-water swimming coach and, over the next months, she tutored me in endurance and technique. I loved the challenge and signed up for a few 5k swims and then a 10k one.
Despite being a size 18-20, my weight didn’t matter in the water. In fact, having a few extra pounds kept me warmer for longer in the freezing cold.
Soon, my new hobby inspired me to swim the English Channel and with Louise’s support, I trained hard for the 21-mile swim to France. In September 2023 I booked a support boat, which would carry the officiator overseeing my attempt and my support gang –my friends, Sophie and Deborah, and of course, Fish Face.
When we arrived in Dover, we had an early shepherd’s pie supper, then I slathered myself in Factor 50 before going to bed at 7pm. Then, at 1am, I was up to coat myself in another thick layer of sunscreen, followed by a layer of Vaseline for the chafing. Two hours later, we were at the marina in the pitch black, to meet the support boat.
Channel swimming rules meant that I had to begin and end my swim unaided on dry land and not touch the boat at all during my attempt. So once the others were aboard, I stood on the shore alone at Shakespeare Beach, dressed in a blue costume patterned with orange crabs. I could see the boat ahead and, when a klaxon sounded, I plunged into the water.
Every swimmer has their own individual support plan and mine involved stopping to eat every hour.
The crew held up a sign from the back of the boat, telling me it was time to stop, and then floated a
