COOK STRAIT SWIM

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 577, 1 February 1929, Page 11

COOK STRAIT SWIM

CRAMP AND COLD BEAT GIRL (Continued from Page 1.) Fifty yards away, the watchers saw Miss Coppleston’s yellow bathing-cap bobbing up and down on the waves, and her arms, black with protective grease, working evenly and vigorously. She had started up to schedule, Mr. Toms saying that by starting her one hour before the full tide she would have the tide working with instead of against her. Then the dinghy came into the beam of light, keeping about 10 feet in front of the bobbing head and arms. The launch crept closer to the swimmer, the helmsman, C. Perano, managing her with the greatest skill. “How is it?” those on the launch heard Mr. Toms call to her. “Not bad,” she called back After she had been in the water a few minutes one of her friends dived from the launch, swimming up to the dinghy. He was a poor swimmer, however, and found he could not keep up with her. “It is the coldest sea I’ve ever met,” he said as he was helped to scramble aboard shivering. Miss Copplestone was still plugging into it using the trudgeon stroke, rising and falling on the swell, but perceptibly putting Wellington Head further back into the darkness Ahead against a dark background were the hills round Wellington. The Karori light blinked. That was the goal, and the sight of the miles of water that separated it from the swimmer made the launch party realise more fully the task that had to be faced. It is doubtful whether anyone except those who accompanied Ronald Webster, of Auckland, on his attempt in worse weather last year, has realised what a great heart a swimmer must have to tackle such a task, especially in gloomy darkness. “How is it now?” called Mr. Rhind, who, when the searchlight was not playing, lit the path with an electrictorch. “Cold is not the word for it,” she answered, but with a laugh. Once again her amateur pacer took the water, this time staying with the swimmer for a couple of hundred yards and doing his best to encourage her. When he got back after only a few minutes he was very cold, and was certain that Miss Copplestone could not say in more than two hours at tin* most.

She was still swimming very strongly, however, and it seemed as if the lights on the other island were

getting closer. The dinghy -was pull- | ing direct for Cape Terawhiti, and Mr. i Toms at the oars had to keep moving. I “FROZEN STIFF” At about 1 o’clock, a voice from the j dinghy called: “How’s the water?” *Tm frozen stiff,” the swimmer ans- j wered, and the people on the launch J realised that there was little chance j of keeping it up. “Try the crawl,” called Mrs. Copple- j stone from the launch. Lily sprinted ! for a short distance, but it was of j no use apparently in warming her tip. j for at once she asked for a hot drink. Mr. Toms realised that the sea was too cold and asked her if she thought there was any chance of keeping on many more hours. No one was surprised when she said she was almost done by the cold, and Mr. Toms urged her to get out. She agreed, realising that the swim was impossible at that temperature, and at 12.1 S she grasped the dinghy. ALMOST UNCONSCIOUS As she was brought to the launch, though little of her face could be seen for grease and gogies, she smiled; but she could hardly move, and was almost unconscious. She was suffering severely from cramp in both arms and one leg. She was given hot drinks and rubbed down, and after about half an hour she fell asleep. The launch came on to Wellington so that she could swim in the championships to-morrow, arriving at 5 o’clock after a smooth trip. “I am as confident now as I was before we started that I could manage the distance,” she told a Sun reporter; but she had not counted on anything as cold that that. The pacer and one or two who had been damped by the flying spray shivered in sympathy. Mr. Toms is certain, too, that the best route was chosen. As far as they went they found everything working out exactly as planned. Though tho only thermometer on the launch said the temperature of the water was GO degrees, everyone believed that the instrument was over-registering. “I have trained in water of 59 degrees, and that was warm compared with this,” Miss Copplestone declared. “When I dived it took my breath away but for half an hour I was too excited for the cold really to hurt me. After that, though, as I grew used to the movement, it got me properly. Good luck to anyone who can swim in water like that for long.” The verdict of Picton and Wellington is, “She’s game,” but only those who saw her dive into the cold, dark water at midnight, and who felt the cold of the sea, can realise just how game she was.