All through the day, hour after hour, Owen O'Keefe kept going, one arm in front of the other, doing his favoured front crawl as he swam steadily towards his goal last Friday.

Entering the river in Fermoy just after 7am that morning to words of encouragement from his family, including his grandfather Tommy Baker who'd taught him to swim in the river as a young boy, Owen quickly got into his stride, got focused and never let up until he got to Youghal.

He found the first part of the swim the hardest, he told me later. The water wasn't as deep as he'd have liked and he was worried about the safety of the three kayakers who were travelling alongside him. That's the kind of guy young Owen is. He was happier once he'd reached Cappoquin, knowing the water from there on would be deeper. It was there that Tony Gallagher from Ardmore was waiting with his boat, the Maeve Óg, to accompany him and take Owen's support team the rest of the way. Tony, greatly admiring Owen's accomplishments to date and his personal ambition of swimming the river from Fermoy to Youghal in one stretch, volunteered his boat and services for the day. I went along for the ride.

Watching him approach us in Cappoquin from an area known as 'The Sinkhole', it was hard to be anything other than in awe of the 20-year-old's passion and drive. He appeared to be gliding effortlessly through the water but the calm conditions belied the effort he was making and the stamina he needed to draw on. And there was a long, long way to go.

Owen's boat team were long distance swimming colleagues Roisin Lewis and Donal Buckley and his pal, Paul Noonan from Kilworth. They worked throughout the day organising Owen's food and drinks regime, ensuring he took on the carbohydrate-rich foodstuffs he required to keep up his stamina every 20 minutes. Owen is a Gaelgoir and so the notices they held up for him to see as he swam, alerting him to upcoming feeding and drinking times, were written in Irish.

Pausing just briefly each time to take food and water, Owen was unfailingly polite, thanking his support team each time before swimming away. Donal Buckley explained that while long distance swimmers can sometimes become irked by conditions or annoyed during such long open water swim, Owen generally remained unflappable and even tempered. From time to time he made requests for jelly babies to chew on and chocolate, as much for the psychological boost having a treat gave him, as for the sugar boost.

On the boat, throughout the afternoon and evening, we chatted among ourselves, gave Tony's little dog Pharoah the attention he sought and viewed the sights from the unique vantage point of the river. And, all the while, out in the water alongside us, Owen kept swimming. His was a somewhat lonely odyssey, I thought, as I watched him journey through the water. It wasn't, he told me afterwards.

"After the first six or seven hours you lose track of time," he explained. That said he was conscious of the landmarks, marking them off mentally, each one he passed taking him closer to his goal. He was also very aware of the many wellwishers who had lined bridges, piers and quays along the way and turned up at other vantage points to cheer him on and wish him well, 'especially as the times were so vague'.

Conditions changed throughout the day. At times the river was bathed in bright sunshine, reflecting a clear blue sky and Owen moved through glistening water as he went. Later in the evening grey clouds gave a more eerie feel to the broad river. As we travelled upriver, skipper Tony pointed out jumping salmon to us. It was as if they were journeying with Owen as he went. He said afterwards the water had been clear and he'd seen many many fish as he swam that day. A canoeist came out onto the river and kept pace with Owen for a stretch.

He was happy generally with the conditions, until he came to the part known as 'The Clashmore Broads' when it became quite choppy. Swimming into the swell looked like hard work for him but he described it as 'irritating more than anyting else'. His instinct is to stick to the middle of the river to take best advantage of the current during river swims but he followed Tony's advice at that juncture and moved closer to shore where there was still a current, but less waves.

Finally, at around six o'clock we rounded a bend in the river and there it was - the iconic Youghal Bridge. Owen still had an hour to go but it must have been a huge psychological boost to him, especially as the high bridge was lined with wellwishers. His grandfather Tommy, who'd followed him from land right the way along, popping up at various vantage points to egg him on, was on an outcrop of land near the bridge with more words of encouragement.

Then there were boats, and buildings, and the quayfront. Nearly there. From the boat we could see the crowd gathered. Donal explained that, doing most of their swims away from home, there was seldom anyone there, much less a crowd, to greet them when they completed marathon swims and broke records. This would be a very special experience for Owen. He was clapped and cheered on as he turned and made his way towards shore. Then suddenly, he was upright, on the slipway. He really had done it. He was soon surrounded by dad George, relieved mum Breda, sister Amy, brother George, other family and friends who hugged and congratulated him, draping him in a blue towel. Wellwishers clamoured to shake his hand. Good naturedly he posed for photographs, thanked those who congratulated him and answered the questions of waiting reporters. He was relieved to have done it, he told us. Relieved that everyone was safe. And, he admitted, he was 'totally exhausted'.

Shortly afterwards he was whisked away by his dad and grandad. He availed of the kind offer of a hot shower from a local woman and enjoyed a steak dinner with family courtesy of the manager of The Quays Pub before the party made their way back to a Fermoy hostelry to continue the celebrations. Owen left a short time later for home and bed - only to find that he couldn't sleep, the events of the day buzzing through his head.

He was due to take part in the swim section of the triathlon in Fermoy on Sunday but knew he wasn't up to it. He opted instead for a short swim in the river with his grandfather and let his good friend Paul Noonan take his place in the triathlon.

Donal Buckley told me on Friday not to ask Owen afterwards what his next big challenge is going to be. "We hate being asked that," he laughed. So I didn't. You may depend though there will be one. He's probably plotting it already.

blog comments powered by Disqus