In search of a strong narrative to explain why I sought professional help and companions for this open water swimming adventure, I became aware that my relationship with the sea goes back many years.
It began in my childhood through the stories my father shared with me. A man who, for a long time, called the sea his "home," he has a profound understanding of the oceans: their dance, their colors, and their moods.
He began young, in the 1960s, embarking on cod fishing trips to the remote island of Greenland. He crossed gulfs and channels and set foot in far-off lands such as Alaska and Russia.
As a child, his fascination with the sea made me wonder what secrets it held that could make Neptune's will repeatedly separate us.
Truth be told, I never learned how to swim. It was only now, driven by the need to pursue future triathlon goals, that I decided to swim with proper technique. I must confess, it has been an inspiring and passionate journey of learning.
In 2024, motivated by friends who were already into triathlon, I set my running shoes aside more often and got involved in cycling and swimming. I bought a bike (very basic, but with all the pedaling power needed — as long as you have the legs 😉) and, in July 2024, I began my open water adventure with Swim4Fun.
Initially, the fear of the sea and its fauna — the enchanting jellyfish or the possibility of unexpected encounters with floating creatures that fuel our imagination — was something that, out of the respect they commanded, paralyzed me. The way water reveals and simultaneously hides still unsettles me. Eternally undulating, it can embrace us or intimidate us.
Speaking of encounters, one of the great ones I’ve had was with Coach Bibiana. Her tremendous ability to motivate, encourage, listen, and make us believe in our progress is an essential part of the Swim4Fun spirit.
Since then, I’ve completed two fantastic crossings (1.2 km and 2 km), and the feeling is hard to put into words.
I remember my body producing so much adrenaline that I discovered hidden abilities within myself.
I would say it’s an experience of self-discovery.
In my first crossing, we entered through Torre Beach, and the goal was to finish at Carcavelos Beach.
That day, the sea was calm, and we swam with the current. As we started approaching the Fort of São Julião da Barra, the challenge began. The waves suddenly grew larger. There were moments when it was difficult to spot my fellow swimmers or focus on my breathing—the waves blocked peripheral vision, and bilateral breathing became impractical.
It is precisely in these moments that it’s crucial to trust ourselves, our coach, and the more experienced teammates. And so, we rounded the fort (which at times felt like rounding Cape Horn) heading towards Carcavelos.
In the second experience, we aimed for a longer distance (2 km): starting from Praia Velha (Paço D'Arcos) and heading to Praia das Fontainhas.
This was a significant step. It was mid-November, and the sea was already showing its might. It required the necessary courage to face the water temperature.
The route has some beauty, especially for someone like me who was familiar with it from a different perspective, running along the promenade. Yes, because it’s also important to appreciate the scenery.
It was a mix of emotion and the unexpected: we couldn’t finish as planned at Praia das Fontainhas due to the swell that was pulling us towards the rocks, so the decision was made to turn back and head for Praia dos Pescadores.
On the way back, we faced headwinds and a countercurrent. Literally, it felt like we were taking one stroke forward and two strokes back. After long minutes, we reached our destination. However, I have great memories of this crossing. It’s that feeling we all talk about—of overcoming challenges, of pushing past what we think are our limits.
Thank you to my father, and thank you to Bibiana for persistently encouraging me.
Carla Aranha