Why My Top Priority is Physical

And how I started rowing on San Francisco Bay

Last week I had one of the most enjoyable experiences of my life. It was on the day of the Alcatraz Invitational, when swimmers come from all over the world (or at least the country, in these Covid-cramped times) to jump into the cold water of the San Francisco Bay and swim like mad across shipping lanes about 1.5 miles to the safety of the cove at Aquatic Park. The fastest ones do it in about 28 minutes.

No, I wasn’t one of the 350+ swimmers who participated this year (about half the normal number). I was in one of the dozens of support craft — rowboats, kayaks, shells, surfboards, rubber inflatable boats with outboard motors, specially equipped jet skis piloted by police, paddleboards, a sailboat, an orange-striped Coast Guard boat, and a big yellow boat called The Machine — that were deployed on the water to keep swimmers safe.

Our job was to create a kind of barrier channel to keep other boats out and keep the swimmers pointed toward the opening to the cove. Also, to keep an eye out for any swimmers that were struggling. And strugglers there were.

I saw police on jet skis towing more than one person to the opening of the cove near the end of the race. That’s called “repositioning.” Organizers figure that anyone who jumps in at Alcatraz deserves to finish the race, not be unceremoniously deposited on shore. The blue and black police jet skis were outfitted with bright yellow sleds on the back, tilted at an angle. Swimmers could grab onto big handles on the sled to crawl aboard for a tow, their legs dangling in the water as they raced ahead.

There were also 10 or 11 “Swim Angels” in the water: strong swimmers from the sponsoring organization— The South End Rowing Club, which I just joined in July. I saw one woman who was obviously tired but didn’t want to give up. Two Swim Angels swam along beside her — one on each side — and escorted her safely all the way to the finish line on the beach beneath Ghiradelli Square.

I saw one swimmer wrapped up in a towel speeding by on a rubber inflatable boat, and another being hustled up to the sauna in the clubhouse. I don’t know how many swimmers needed and got assistance from our fleet. But I know none were lost, so we did our job.

For me, the day began when I walked over to Aquatic Park from our apartment in the Marina District at 6 am. The sky looked overcast. The rising sun was beautiful on the water in the cove.

As I approached the South End Rowing Club, I saw there was already a crowd out front. Swimmers were registering and getting their arms marked with a number in felt pen. There was hustle bustle and contagious excitement that got my adrenaline flowing right away.

Once inside the club, I met my rowing mentor Tom Lundgren and we stood in a crowd as we listened to instructions from the leader of the swim. Then we got in a line to launch our various boats from the dock (no easy process) and then rowed, paddled, sailed, or motored out to Alcatraz to wait for the big Red and White Ferry carrying the swimmers to the start of the race.

Tom, who has been a member of the club for 20 years and a rower all his life, told me that back in the day, swimmers had to all jump in and tread water while waiting for the starting gun, so those who jumped in first had a bit of a wait before the race even started. But nowadays, swimmers wear timers on their ankles that trigger when they hit the water, so they can just jump and swim.

Once the race started, we rowed along beside the swimmers, doing our best to make sure all went well. It was hard to keep track of the swimmers. Their arms barely make a splash above the waves. And it was hard to maintain a good channel with our motley assortment of water craft. The currents were pushing the swimmers off course, and boats were flitting about trying to keep them contained.

As it turned out, we didn’t have to haul anyone out of the water into our boat. But we did give another helper a tow. She had paddled out to Alcatraz on her surfboard, intending to act as support for the swim. But halfway back, she grew tired and needed assistance. So we threw her a rope.

When the race was over, we hauled our boat out of the water, wiped it down, and stored it back in the boathouse. Then I headed out front to watch the awards being presented while Tom left to visit an old friend.

There were four categories: Suits and Skins for both Women and Men. The skins — or people swimming in just bathing suits — had faster times than people swimming in wetsuits. Who knew? Not me.

It was delightful to watch the beaming athletes come up to get their plaques, and to note that not all of them were in their teens. The awards were given out by SERC president Simon Dominguez who was wearing a bright blue paisley suit in keeping with the festive tenor of the day.

So how did I land on this lucky adventure? And more to the point of the title: Why is my top priority physical? And how did I start rowing on San Francisco Bay?

All of the credit for #1 goes to my rowing mentor Tom, who invited me along for the ride. Tom is 80 years old, but that’s not what you notice about him. What you notice is that he’s upbeat and friendly and helpful and really good at rowing boats.

As to #2, getting into my physical body is my top priority right now because I very much need to get out of my head for reasons that will have to wait for another story. That’s why I started swimming in the bracing Bay water in the first place, which later led to me joining the South End Rowing Club, so I could take a hot shower and then put on dry clothes after swimming instead of walking home cold and dripping from Aquatic Park.

And #3? That’s the funny one. I decided to learn how to row for my husband, who isn’t a joiner but would like to spend time on boats. I hoped that by training, I might be able to get him access to the fleet. I never suspected I would love ocean rowing. It’s not for my husband anymore.

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