UK strongman Ross Edgley, who you may remember from such feats as rope climbing the height of Everest, and recently swimming 100km in the Caribbean while tied to a tree, is now closing in on his mission to swim around the entirety of mainland Great Britain – all 3200km of it; crashing coastline, unruly weather, the works.
Over 150 days later is the impossible feat about to become reality? Can Ross Edgley become the first person ever to swim around the coast of mainland Great Britain? Join us live on November 4 to find out as we follow Ross for the final few kilometres of his Great British Swim.
In June 2018 the challenge began...
Leaving Margate Harbour on June 1, 2018, he set off in a clockwise direction, swimming daily for six hours at a time – planning to not touch shore again until he arrived at London's Tower Bridge an estimated 100 days later.
9 min
Ross Edgley's Great British Swim: Episode 1
Strongman Ross Edgley prepares for his attempt to swim around the coast of mainland Great Britain. Watch the first of his weekly vlogs giving the behind the scenes story of this incredible attempt.
“It’s the equivalent of swimming the English Channel every day,” Ross says of the planned feat, his eyebrows narrowing as if he has to take a second to register the sheer insanity of what's to come. "But I know my body can take it; I know I can be the first person in history to achieve it."
Why is Ross Edgley swimming around Great Britain?
Ross's mission isn't just about pushing his own body to its limits, he hopes his efforts will also encourage others to step outside of their comfort zone: "I want to inspire people to get out there and challenge themselves – maybe try your first open water swim, sign up for a triathlon, or your first park run – find something that you didn’t think you were capable of and prove yourself wrong."
After five gruelling months at sea, Ross Edgley stands to finish the Great British Swim on Sunday, November 4. Still wondering what is driving Ross on? Before he set off Ross explained the reasons, rules and method behind the madness...
I’ve got unfinished business in the water
Earlier this year I attempted to swim from Martinique to St Lucia while tied to a tree. I’d aimed to swim 40km point to point, but the current was totally against me and kept dragging me back. Even though I didn't reach the shore, I actually swam over 100km in the end. While the athlete in me was happy with that, the adventurer in me had unfinished business.
So I phoned up the Royal Marines when I returned to the UK and asked if I could swim for 48 hours straight, just to see what I’ve got in the locker. The swim went really well and I hit 126km. One of the Marines mentioned the idea of swimming around the entirety of Britain – something that’s never been done before – and I thought, 'why not?'" I also can’t write a book and call it The World's Fittest Book without being able to back it up in a big way!
I can't touch the shore once
I can't touch the shore, not even once; it needs to be done in the spirit of a true adventure. For the best output. I’ll need minimal waves, predictable currents, feeding stations along the way – we’re working with RNLI and the coastguards for those – and mundane weather, enough sun exposure to warm up the sea but not enough to get frazzled. The weather and the tides have to play ball.
I’ll need to swim at least six hours every day
In theory, the tide changes every six hours, and in one day you have two six-hour periods to swim when the tide is with you. The true test is asking yourself if you’re prepared to swim every time the tide changes, whether that’s midday when the sun is beating down on your back, or the middle of the night when it’s pouring down with six foot waves. Are you going to get in and swim and keep clocking those miles? We can predict the tides but not the weather, which could make conditions non-swimmable. But there will be periods around the coastline where I may get the tide with me, or at least current neutral, for about 30 hours.
I'm doing this challenge to encourage people to do what they love and not worry about body aesthetics. It's about getting fit for purpose.
My body will break down at sea
A lot of experienced open water swimmers have told me that my skin will eventually reject being in salt water for such a long time. I got a taste of this during my 48-hour swim with the Marines, where my hands and feet pruned - essentially I got trench foot. What’s more, being in a wetsuit for months on end will probably mean I develop sores. Hopefully these turn to calluses, otherwise the pain could be unbearable under my armpits and parts where the wetsuit rubs. My body’s going to break down at sea, I know that but I must be mentally ready.
It’s a game of chess with Mother Nature
To do this sort of challenge I need the ability to swim 50km day and night, powering through 10ft waves. But if the currents are against me I have no chance. The GB rowing challenge, which follows the same route, is labelled as the world’s toughest rowing race on account of the tides, unpredictability and weather. It also follows roughly the same route I will be on. When I told its organisers I’d be swimming it they told me I was crazy. “If you get it wrong around The Highlands you’ve eight knots coming against you," they said. "So even if you are swimming two to three knots, an Olympic level, you’ll still be going back four knots.” It’s basically going to be a game of chess with Mother Nature – you can swim hard, but you need to swim smart.
I have different-sized wetsuits to account for weight loss
We’re doing it in the spirit of open water swimming – no buoyancy aids, gloves only needed during cold periods. The only advantage I’ll have is a collection of swim suits tailored for estimated weight loss, ranging from full Ross, to emaciated Ross 60 or so days in, when I’ll have shifted a few stone. My legs will probably atrophy first. I won’t be using them, they’ll probably shrivel – kicking your legs account for only 10 per cent overall propulsion, even with Olympic swimmers. We’ll also be taking a picture of me each day, so people can see my body’s transformation as I go.
My biggest test comes right after Land’s End
Early on, Weymouth gets a bit cheeky for tough waves, and we’ve already spoken about having some smaller support boats on standby for me in Land’s End, where the waters are so bad they may not be able to get out to me. But it's just after Land’s End when I’ll face possibly the biggest decision of the entire trip: do I hug the coastline and go around Wales, the shorter route, or do I make a beeline and go over to Ireland, where the waves might be more favourable and predictable? We'll have to assess the currents and weather when it comes to it.
If I misjudge the currents I'll swim around Great Britain, just in the opposite direction
Scotland will be choppy, too. There are so many currents between the islands and the mainland that if I get it wrong I'm going backwards. If I get it right, it’s stunning, the coastline up there is amazing and it’ll be the best experience of your life, but if I get it wrong it could be the worst. One sailor told me that if I misjudge the currents I'll swim around Great Britain, just in the opposite direction.
It’s a team effort
It’s not a solo mission at all, it’s a team event, and the captain of my boat is going to be my hero. He will plot everything – he has all the tidal maps, all the electronic versions, all over the boat. I’ll also be plotting where I am on a map every day to boost morale. When you’re out at sea and all you can see is the bottom of the sea bed, it’s very easy to lose track of where you are. So it’ll be nice to clamber back on the boat and see that I’ve made progress.
Ultimately, when you’re fatigued you have the cognitive function of a five-year-old, so I'll be like ‘point me in the right direction and let me know when I’ve got to change'.
I’m going to need to eat smart
One lesson I learnt on my swim in St Lucia is that most conventional energy gels only deliver 30 grams of carbohydrates, which isn’t enough. The solution is to use piping bags you make a cake with, which we’ll fill with custard, curries and what have you as I bite the end off and pump the food into my face.
I’m also hamstrung by the amount of space we have on the boat. We have to fit the most calorie and carb-dense foods we can store in the least space possible. You can’t take thousands of bags of chicken wings, so I’ll have whey protein, and for carbs, nut butters, coconut oil, foods void of texture and taste. It’s about eating smart.
I’ll grow a beard to protect me from jellyfish
Wildlife is always a danger when you're isolated in the sea. Giant jellyfish are a particular worry. I won’t shave. Because you’re leading with the head and the face will be most exposed, any protection, like a big beard, will help. I'll try and grow it so by the time I get up to Scotland it's fairly rugged. I’ll also encounter sea otters, dolphins and killer whales along the way, which I’m actually looking forward to. It’ll help break things up for me and be an incredible privilege to see.
I’ll sleep twice a day
Bi-phasic sleep, otherwise known as the practice of sleeping during two periods over 24 hours, will come in handy. It’ll be swimming for six hours, sleeping for six hours, and vice versa, so you never really get eight hours. I’ve been talking to ultra-runners and people who’ve rowed the Atlantic, and they all say, all of this, you just do on the day. It’s a baptism of fire. You just adapt. During the St Lucia swim Red Bull kept me going.
My goal is to encourage people to get fit for purpose
All going well, my challenge encourages people to do what they love and let Mother Nature take care of your physiology. It’s about being fit for purpose. From an aesthetic perceptive, at the end of the race will my body get on the front of a fitness magazine? Probably not, but will it be a body that will help you swim around Great Britain? I hope so.