I decided to share the story of my daughter Zuzka Procházková’s 2018 English Channel swim from the perspective of her mother, accompanying her on the journey.
“Well, I’ve paid the deposit…” Those words from Zuzka at Christmas 2015 began the journey towards her dream of swimming the English Channel.
It was a long, wonderful journey, with plenty for Zuzka to learn. Those of us around her sometimes wondered how it would turn out. She had no swimming background or experience. Surely she ought to do this and avoid that… But that is Zuzka: independent, clear-headed and focused on the goal ahead.
2016 and the first eight months of 2017 flew by. Zuzka swam on her own and did all she could, but responsibilities came before training: finishing her studies and teaching older primary-school pupils. In August 2017, after the Czech 20 km Championships in Račice, she met Michal Štěrba. His words, “Hmm, we haven’t got much time left,” marked the next stage of preparation. The plan was to swim twice a day, just once on Wednesdays, with a 6 × 800 m test or a variation on Saturdays. Sundays were strictly for rest. Throughout the 2017/2018 winter swimming season, I kept answering the question, “Where’s Zuzka?” “She’s swimming in the pool!” 😊
Somehow, Zuzka also fitted a two-way North Channel relay into her training, including thorough preparation in May with a simulated 36-hour relay in the Vltava.
She completed her Channel qualifying swim — six hours in water no warmer than 16°C — at Bedřichov Reservoir, also in May. She was cold, but coped admirably, both physically and mentally.
Training flew by while we watched her shoulders grow 😊. In mid-July, she travelled to the Isle of Wight in southern England to stay with friends and train in the sea. The water was warm, around 20°C, but very salty.
At the end of July, Zuzka moved to Dover for a little more training and to soak up the atmosphere. Then things moved quickly. Around midday on 1 August, Reg Brickell called: “A slot has opened up tomorrow; one swimmer has cancelled. If you want it, be at the harbour at two tomorrow morning, Thursday. Otherwise, it looks as though it won’t be until after Sunday.” Zuzka agreed to the next day. We hurried out for a few essentials and made a feeding plan. It was rather repetitive: after 20 minutes, sports drink and gel; after 40 minutes, sports drink and gel; after an hour, sports drink, gel, nuts or banana, and so on.
We got to bed late and were up again at one. Spirits were excellent — with Zuzka, they could hardly be otherwise. At two sharp, we reached Dover Harbour as “our” boat, Viking Princess, arrived with Reg Brickell. Zuzka could hardly wait to swim the Channel. On the way from the harbour to the start, we thoroughly covered her in petroleum jelly and attached lights to her cap and swimsuit. Then she boarded the small boat that took her ashore. At three, the ship’s horn signalled the start.
Zuzka swam the first two hours in darkness, though the boat’s lights lit the water so well that she said she barely noticed. She settled into her steady rhythm with long strokes, faithfully took sports drink and gel every 20 minutes, and kept smiling at us. She eventually declined the nuts and banana: they needed chewing. We crew members took turns resting on luxurious loungers below deck. Her boyfriend Olda even got seasick, but recovered after six hours and was back in action.
After about five hours, she was roughly halfway across, but jellyfish appeared. Luckily, it was sunny, so they were below the surface. They looked beautiful from the boat — red, white and purple — but Zuzka was less impressed. She jerked a few times after swimming into one or getting stung, and even complained: “Is it going to be like this all the way now?” It wasn’t. We left the swarms behind and saw only occasional jellyfish after that. The rest of the swim was very peaceful, despite busy shipping traffic.
The second and last little crisis came when the French coast was within sight. In fact, it had been visible for a while, but Zuzka had been told not to look ahead. The lighthouse at Cap Gris-Nez was so prominent that it was impossible to ignore. She could see the strong current carrying her north. “I’m going to miss it!” “I don’t want to go to Calais!” “Zuzka, you have to push harder!”
We also offered her plenty of helpful advice.
At last, amid intense emotion, she finished in 10 hours, 51 minutes and 33 seconds. The water was 16–16.6°C, the air 16–27°C, with almost no wind and a calm sea. She covered 48 km in strong currents, averaging 4.4 km/h.
And now I cannot resist a little sentiment.
Zuzka had never swum competitively. This was entirely her own idea from the outset. Our whole family cheered her on and supported her as much as we could. By sharing it all with us and letting us crew her crossing, she gave us some wonderful memories. 
She invited all her siblings — Pavel, Káťa and Janča — her boyfriend Olda and her friend Dan, who had hosted her on the island and even bought a kayak for her. After the crossing, her dad Pavel and Janča’s boyfriend Pepa arrived in Dover; they had been unable to get there earlier. A sporting event became a family occasion and a deeply human experience. Thank you, Zuzí!
Finally, my heartfelt thanks to everyone who followed her progress, cheered her on and supported her financially. I think she has already spoken to everyone personally. I would also like to mention the extraordinary support of the headteacher at Zuzka’s school. She set up a transparent fundraising account for the crossing, donated generously herself and encouraged us so warmly that it brought tears to our eyes. Thank you very much.
Videos of the swim
Preparing for the start
Swimming at night