By: Nina He

The shore of the English Channel
Trudy Ederle

“Every morning, every evening, ain’t we got fun? Not much money, but oh honey, ain’t we got fun? The rent’s unpaid, dear, we haven’t a car…”
That was what Trudy Ederle muttered as she gazed out at the harsh, fighting waves of the English Channel. 21 miles, with stinging jellyfish, water that could freeze your toes off, storms that bring currents stronger than elephants, and the shallows–the last challenge…. What Trudy would have to swim in order to cross the English Channel.
She would be swimming from France to Dover beach.

The reporters were after her. Her sister, Meg, dad, and Bill Burgess were waiting on the ship.
Now or never.
Trudy jumped.
The stinging water was frigid and slapped her awake. The waves were strong, even close to shore, and pushed back against her.
But Trudy? She cruised. Freestyle. She fought back against the waves as if they were mere bugs, warming up to the water like an old friend.
She had fought measles. She could fight some waves and cold.

…

Highlands, New Jersey
Gertrude Ederle

Back at home, Gertrude Ederle chopped vegetables as her son, Henry, fell asleep listening to the radio, turned on at its minimal volume.
“…Trudy Ederle has been seen back in the water.”
Henry’s eyes shot open. “I think Harry Horlick just said that Trudy was swimming again.”
His mom glanced at him as if he was an idiot. She had not heard the radio. “It was a dream. They come home tomorrow. Now, off to bed you go.”
“Okay, good night,” Henry said.
From the open window, Gertrude could hear the radio at the neighbor’s. Their window was open—of course. It always was!—and the radio was on full blast.
“Trudy Ederle is making a second attempt to swim the English Channel…
“Trudy Ederle is four miles out and swimming strong. Another update in 30 minutes.”
She froze. “Henry, get dressed!”

…

The English Channel
Meg Ederle

The reporters had followed Trudy, on a small rowboat.
Their voices chased Trudy as she swam stroke after stroke.
“Get closer!”
“In the water! Look there!” a reporter shouted.
“Look what she’s wearing!” another said, referring to the no-drag swimsuit that Meg had designed for her.
“Trudy!”
“They’re too close,” Meg said, watching from the boat. Raising her voice, she called, “Hey! Get away from her!”
“Trudy, over here!” The reporters kept shouting, distracting Trudy. Meg, through her sisterly bond, could practically feel the annoyance and frustration that Trudy had.
“Get away from her! Get away from her!” Their dad, Henry, was shouting as well.
Suddenly, there was a gunshot. Meg glanced back at the boat, where Burgess stood, holding a gun. “Get away from her, or I’ll shoot ya!”
Nobody moved.
Trudy raised her head from the water, giving them a smile.
Meg smiled back.
Trudy kept swimming for a while, the reporters finally backing down at the threat of death.
But then Trudy stopped. “They’re leaking, I can’t see!”
Meg caught the goggles that Trudy tossed at her. Then she kept swimming– blind and strong into the challenges ahead.

…

Highlands, New Jersey
Gertrude Ederle

Gertrude dragged a half-asleep Henry through the streets to the news station.
Ignoring the protests of the man at the counter (“You can’t be in here. Excuse me, ma’am. You can’t be in here!”), she stepped into the office, staring straight at Horlick, the reporter.
The office had one table, with shelves, and near the back was a few young men who were wearing earphones and getting news from the reporters on the boat. But Gertrude paid no attention to these things.
“My name is Gertrude Ederle, the mother of Trudy Ederle. It takes too long for you people to tell us what’s happening. I want you to tell me where she is. Now,” Gertrude demanded.
“Uh…” Horlick glanced at Gertrude. “Why don’t you all have a seat? As reports come in, you’ll see ’em as we do.”
“Where is she?” she demanded.
“I don’t know. Tommy?” A young man with earphones, leaning from his chair, gave Horlick a piece of paper.
“Thank you. Uh, eight miles, 5-foot swells, air temperature is 56 degrees, water is 55. Please.” He gestured to the chairs, and Gertrude and Henry finally sat.
After a moment, Gertrude turned her nose up and said, “I don’t like this music. Change it.”

…

The English Channel
Meg Ederle

“Look ahead! The water has turned red out there,” Henry said, pointing.
Meg looked out at the sea, where, sure enough, the water was a pale salmon color.
The boat slowed down.
“Red jellyfish,” shouted Burgess.
Meg gasped. There were so many of them! Would Trudy really swim through, brushing them aside like bugs?
“What can we do?” Henry asked urgently.
Meg was going to ask the same question.
“Nothing,” Burgess said gravely, his face a mask of despair. “She swims through.”

Trudy Ederle

Trudy heard a whistle. She lifted her head from the water. On the boat, on the chalkboard, she could make out the words: Red Jellyfish!
She looked out. Yes. Jellyfish. And a whole bunch of them too. She would have to swim through. Without goggles.
Trudy bit her lip. Let’s do this.
She continued swimming.
When the first shock came, Trudy screamed. How could such a small, brainless creature cause so much pain?
The pain grew as she swam through more of them. She felt as if she was sitting in a thunderstorm, and each bolt hit her. And the worst part? After each shock, the pain didn’t just go away. It stayed and it grew, until Trudy couldn’t bear it anymore.
She was going to quit. She was. She was just about to call to Meg to get her out—
And then she thought of Wolfee. He poisoned her—he had put sleeping pills in her tea during the swim. He thought that Trudy couldn’t do it. If she quit, she would just prove him right.
No siree. She would not be doing that.
And so, Trudy Ederle gritted her teeth and kept swimming.

…

Trudy gasped, raising her head out of the water. She had made it through the jellyfish. The exposed parts of her body were covered in long red scratches. Trudy was still hurting. Her body was sore, and she was so tired…
She flipped onto her back, resting.
Back on the ship, Henry turned to Burgess. “She’s done, get her out, Mr. Burgess.”
“She’s just resting. It’s all right.”
“All right?! This has gone too far! You had her swim sideways into jellyfish!!” Henry cried. “This is madness! She just got stung by a hundred jellyfish!!”
Burgess smiled. “Aye. And she still swam at three-and-a-half knots.”
Meg hurried to the dock. She had fixed Trudy’s goggles with a bit of wax. She threw her sister the goggles.
Trudy turned her head towards the splash.
“What are you waiting for, lazybones?” Meg called tauntingly. “England is that way. Keep going! Stay strong!”
With a playful smile, Trudy grabbed her goggles—newly fixed with candle wax—put them on, and began swimming again.

…

Highlands, New Jersey
Gertrude Ederle

As the next report came in, Gertrude started at Horlick expectantly. Into the microphone, he said, “Trudy Ederle battles strong currents and stinging jellyfish as she cuts a path towards England.”
Suddenly, the whole street seemed to blow out a relieved breath.
Trudy was still going. She was still alive. She could still make it.
“The American girl, Trudy Ederle, is still going strong. She has now spent eight hours in the water.”
The news spread all over the world. In French. In Spain. The whole world was rooting for her.
“Trudy Ederle is…halfway to dover.”
Gertrude hid a smile. Her daughter could make it.

…

The English Channel
Meg Ederle

Meg watched Trudy struggle in the waters below. The currents and waves were so strong that Trudy could barely get any distance. Despite Trudy’s obvious efforts, the waves and currents were both against her, pushing her back. She was moving in one place.
“It’s been over an hour, and she barely moved. She’s exhausted. The current is too strong,” their father said, glancing at Trudy as he paced the decks restlessly.
“Hey!” Meg called to the captain. “Get me in front of her!”
The boat edged forward until it was right in front of Trudy.
“Meg, what are you doing?” Burgess asked as Meg threw off her coats.
She grinned a playful smile. “Trudy hates to lose a race.” And then she jumped into the waters below.
Trudy lifted her face from the splash.
“Race you around the pier!” she shouted.
“Meg! No!” laughed Trudy. “Meg!”
“Come on, Trudy!”
She chased Meg the length of the boat. Her strokes were strong and sure. Her kick was consistent and fast. And she passed her sister.
After a while in the water, Meg, panting, said, “Trudy.” She raised her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t swim anymore.”
Trudy nodded, gesturing towards the boat. “Get back on the boat. Tell Burgess I’m starving.”
“What do you want?” Meg asked, already paddling back to the boat.
“Anything but tea!” They both laughed.

…

Highlands, New Jersey
Gertrude Ederle

“We’ll bring another update in 30 minutes. She’s six miles from England,” Horlick said into the microphone.
Gertrude saw Henry’s smile. “Stop smiling. It’s a long way to go,” she whispered.
“She now faces the most treacherous part of the Channel that has taken so many lives already. How much more does Trudy Ederle have in the tank as she faces the ultimate long-distance challenge?”
Gertrude felt her worry through every bone. Could Trudy make it? What if a shark got her? What if she drowned? What if she got scared? What if she went the wrong way?
You got this, Trudy, Gertrude thought. I know you do. You just have to prove me right.

…

The English Channel
Henry Ederle

The ship stopped, and so did Trudy.
“What’s happening?” Henry called.
“The currents pushed us into the Goodwin Sands. She’ll come through the mouth of Dover onto Kingsdown Beach. She’ll have to swim across the shallows for the last five miles alone,” Burgess replied.
Henry gaped at him. “What if she gets lost in the dark? What if she gets sucked out to sea?”
“She can do it,” reassured Burgess.
Henry was anything but reassured. His daughter? Alone? In the sea? For five miles? So many things could happen to her! So many things that could result in the disappearance of his daughter—no, she would not go! “Take her out of the water, now, Mr. Burgess. Get my daughter out!”
“I will not take her out. As long as she wants to swim, she swims!” Burgess said, with crossed arms and a stubborn posture.
“No, we are losing light! She’s frozen stiff. She’s slowing down. She will be alone in the dark without a ship to guide her,” Henry snapped.
“Hey! Hey! Trudy!” Henry shouted. She swam over. “Trudy! We can’t follow you through the shallows. Without us, you will be lost. Get out now! The swim is over.”
Trudy paddled in the water. Then she shook her head. Henry gaped. “It’s not over. I love you.”
He watched her swim away. She was a fine, young lady, he thought with the pride of a lion.
Burgess gave him a pat on the shoulder. “We’ll meet her on the beach,” he said certainly.

…

Highlands, New Jersey
Gertrude Ederle

Gertrude listened to the different news stations talking about her daughters.
“Having achieved more than so many men before her, Trudy Ederle now attempts the final stretch of the swim…”
“Trudy Ederle has entered the shallows alone. A sandbank that guards the shores of England…”
“Mademoiselle Trudy Ederle has spent almost 13 hours in the water in freezing temperatures in the most perilous part of the swim…”
Gertrude balled her hands into fists.When Trudy made it, she would never let her enter water again. No, she would never let Trudy leave her side again! Not for the rest of her life, she wouldn’t!
And yes, she would make it.
She had to.

…

The English Channel—The Shallows
Trudy Ederle

Trudy swam. She swam for she didn’t know how long, battling the weather and currents. And then she stopped.
Because the sky had turned dark. She couldn’t see the land in front of her. Suddenly, a wave knocked into her, driving her into the water. When she got out again, everything looked the same. Just darkness and water.
Fear began to creep into her mind, replacing the certainty that had been there earlier. Dread wrapped its deadly tendrils around her heart, pulling and tugging until Trudy was crying with panic.
“No. No. No. No!”
But no matter how much she cried or how much she feared, it was true. Trudy was lost.
“NO!” She could imagine a creature from the depths, coming up to catch her. To tear her into tiny pieces and eat her. Or she would paddle, here, forever, until she either died of starvation or tiredness or hypothermia. Whichever came first. Her panic spread. Trudy let out a sob, trying to pick a direction in which to go. But they all looked the same…the exact same… The cold was beginning to seep into her skin, until her very bones trembled. A thousand possibilities entered her mind, all ending with her dying.
She was going to die alone. She would drift into the depths of the ocean. They would never find her body. Trudy Ederle would drown. And no one would ever know…

…

Dover Beach
Meg Ederle

“We have to go back on that boat and find her!” Henry said.
“There’s no going back. This is where it ends,” Burgess replied gravely.
“How is she supposed to find her way?” Henry demanded.
“Look!” Meg said, pointing to the top of the cliffs. There were so many people there, all waiting for Trudy, all holding lanterns and candles and what not. And the most special thing? Fires. So many. They all burned, high and strong, all calling to Trudy, guiding her way.
Here, Trudy! Here is the right way!
They sang festively.
Trudy, please come.

…

Highlands, New Jersey
Gertrude Ederle

Henry was pacing. Gertrude was sitting, still waiting.
Then, came the news. Horlick’s face fell. Gertrude’s heart lifted into her throat. “She’s lost in the shallows. They can’t find her.”
Gertrude couldn’t describe the despair that entered her heart. She felt that the room was too small. There wasn’t enough oxygen. Were the walls suddenly pressing in? She wanted to leave. She wanted to go home and see Trudy waiting there for her, with her bright smile and laughter.
But she sat. She sat and she waited. She waited for news.
“She’s lost in the shallows. “They can’t find her. We have reports that Trudy Ederle is lost in the Goodwin Sands, only five miles from England. We pray she finds her way to Dover and the beach at Kingsdown.
“There’s fires burning on the cliffs of Dover as the world stops now and waits. We are all with her in that freezing water. Tonight, we’re all with Trudy.”
Gertrude kept her posture straight, her face unreadable. Those idiots didn’t know Trudy like she did. She would find her way.

…

The English Channel—The Shallows
Trudy Ederle

Trudy was crying. She was crying bad, fat tears that rolled down her cheeks and dripped into the water. She couldn’t find her way. She would forever be lost to the ocean.
She clenched her fists together.
Where was the path to Dover Beach?
And she was tired too. Just so tired. Trudy coughed. The waves were carrying her this way and that.
Where was Dover Beach?
Gasping at the coldness that now entered her bones, Trudy turned around in the water and…
Flames. Fire was burning. In the ocean? No, not in the ocean.
That was Dover Beach. She could’ve swore she heard the sound of crackling sticks and saw each flickering lamp. And…a blend of hundreds of different voices, all saying something…
Go, Trudy go!
With a renewed sense of strength, she began swimming again.

…

Dover Beach
Meg Ederle

“There!” Burgess shouted, pointing.
“Where?!” Henry demanded.
“There!” Burgess replied.
Meg scanned the waves furiously, looking for an orange cap, a glimpse of skin…. There.
“Trudy!” Meg screamed, waving her arms.
People were now rushing down to the beach.
Henry turned around, pushing the crowd back. “Nobody touches her!”
Nobody would.

…

Dover Beach
Trudy Ederle

Trudy’s stroke was sloppy. She let them drop into the water. She was barely catching any water. Her legs were barely kicking at the water—more like floating. The drifted up and down like seaweed.
But she was moving forward, and it was all that mattered.
And then she stopped. Because…because…
She felt sand beneath her hands. She could stand up.
She stopped. Looked up, and…
A crowd was on the beach, waiting for her. She gapped. So many people. All of them were here…for her.
And they all erupted into cheers as she lifted her head.
She just stood there for a moment. Gaping with a sense of pride. These people were all there for her. They were all cheering for her. Her. Just her.
In the crowd, at the front, she saw Burgess, Meg, her dad. They were all gaping as well. As if they couldn’t quite believe the sight before their eyes.
Slowly, shakily she stepped towards the beach, the waves still lapping at her. And when she finally stepped on the sand…there couldn’t have been a better feeling than to be the first woman to swim the English Channel.

Image Credit by Tobias Bjørkli