Hello Swimmers
My name is Diego Sampaio, I’m Brazilian and from Rio de Janeiro, and I’ve been living in Lisbon for 5 years.
Rio de Janeiro is a true paradise for open water swimming enthusiasts: abundant nature, pleasantly warm water, and endless possibilities for crossings.
One day, I joined a group of friends to swim the crossing from Prainha to Pedra do Pontal, around 4 km. A sunny morning, little wind, favorable currents… ideal conditions all lined up. Let’s go for it!
We entered the water together and swam to the end of the beach, heading toward our destination. At that point, I missed an important detail: the next beach (Praia da Macumba) has a concave shape, almost like a bay, which required adjusting the route closer to the shoreline. Unaware of this, I fixed my gaze on Pedra do Pontal on the horizon and kept swimming in a straight line
So there I was, swimming along in a contemplative state, taking in nature, and after about half an hour of strokes, I decided to stop and look for my friends. Friends? There wasn’t the slightest sign of human life nearby. I looked toward the shore: the beach was far away—VERY far (I figured around 1.5 km). I looked back—turning around was no longer an option.
Hello, despair. Welcome to my crossing!
In a brief moment, a pleasurable activity was overtaken by fear. The depth was so great that I could see nothing but an endless dark blue, accompanied by a deafening silence. For a few moments, I felt a kind of fear I had rarely experienced in my life. I was convinced that an orca would appear in front of me, or that a current would carry me out to the open sea.
I tried to keep going, unsuccessfully. Swimming in the company of fear is extremely exhausting.
Fiz então um esforço hercúleo para me recompor, até que um pensamento libertador surgiu: “Mas eu já não estava aqui a nadar? O mar não mudou! O que mudou foi a minha cabeça.”
I looked again toward my destination, now more aware of the factors shaping the moment, and set a simple plan: one stroke after another, total focus on technique and breathing—and eventually, I would get there.
1 hour and 40 minutes later, I arrived safe and sound at my destination. Phew!
The sea will present us with challenging situations—controlling them is impossible. What remains is to control this incredible machine called the mind. Finding peace and awareness in turbulent moments is a vital skill for those who venture into the sea.
Strong strokes to everyone!
Diego Sampaio