My Adventure: by Maya Merhige
The Molokai Channel:
In January of 2023, I became the youngest woman to complete the Kaiwi Channel, a 28-mile stretch of water between Molokai and Oahu islands in Hawaii. I also have the longest successful crossing, which is not a record that I was aiming for, but is one that I am immensely proud of.
When I’m on these swims, I am at complete mercy to Mother Nature. The currents, the winds, the swell, and the sealife are present and uncontrollable, and all I can do is adapt and continue. On this swim, I faced all of the aforementioned obstacles.
To get to the start of the swim, I had to first jump off the boat and swim to shore. When I got into the water, I quickly realized that there was a massive shore dump in front of me, and within seconds I was smashed into the seafloor by a violent and heavy wave. As soon as I reached the air, I grabbed the cap and goggles that had been thrown off, and seconds later was smashed down again. This happened over and over until finally I made it to shore. It was only then that I was able to begin the swim.
Once I made it through the waves, I slowly settled into a rhythm. I got to watch the sunset from the water while listening to dolphins play below me, an experience that I will always cherish. Soon after sunset, unbeknownst to me, I hit a headwind that halved my speed for the entire night. I expended significant energy while making little progress for ten hours. I was blissfully unaware, keeping my eye out for shooting stars (I saw three!), listening to dolphins, singing Moana, and getting stung by jellyfish here and there. But, as the sun rose and I could finally look around, a sense of realization washed over me. I started to panic, realizing that I was still closer to the start than I was to finish, despite believing the entire night that I was nearing the end of this adventure.
Around the same time that this realization hit me, so did a massive jellyfish. My crew thinks it was a Portuguese Man-o’-War, notorious for the pain and gashes that they cause. The one that hit me did just that, hitting my shoulder first, and then wrapping all the way down and across my abdomen. I immediately felt an excruciating pain, and made such a jarring movement with the shock that my back spasmed. This led me to tears, and an intense sense of discouragement. Despite all of this, I knew that I would forever be disappointed in myself if I didn’t continue, and I tried to remember how enjoyable the previous ten hours had been. So, despite the tears filling my goggles, I threw one arm over the other and kept swimming, one stroke at a time.
That day felt like the longest day of my life. I went through periods of frustration – at how long the swim was taking, bliss – perhaps caused by hyperthermia (overheating), gratitude – in the strength that my body had in reserves I didn’t even know existed, and a constant perseverance.
At hour 24 I experienced my second sunset, which is how I knew how long I had been in the water. While the sunset itself was beautiful, it was immensely frustrating to know that I had gone through an entire cycle of day and night, and still had to keep swimming. Yet, I continued.
Finally, I looked up and could see headlights, and from the boat my mom informed me that my dad and sister had flown all the way from California, and were waiting on the beach with open arms. This was the final push I needed, and after 27 hours and 33 minutes of continuous swimming, I reached land.
Advice to Others:
Break things down, embrace the baby steps and the journey, and go one stroke at a time. When I’m in the water, the only thing I can do to not go crazy is to focus on the 30 minutes before my next feed, and sometimes just the next 10 strokes. Breaking it down removes the overwhelm that can sometimes pop up when I’m on one shore looking at the vast distance I’m about to cross. Taking it day by day is the only way you can live, and it’s important to remember that each step is forward movement. Take the pressure off, and know that with each stroke you’re taking, you’re getting even closer to where you’re trying to go.
