"There are many ways to experience the Swimming Crossing of La Graciosa. Like in a movie, there are the protagonists, who are the swimmers, and there are the supporting actors, including those of us waiting on the dock for our friends and family to arrive.
For 10 years I have always been the supporting actor by my own decision. I know how to swim, but the tremendous respect (call it fear) I have for the sea outweighs the desire to jump in and participate as a protagonist.
I have never had the feeling of this year before. My favorite spot is the pier's breakwater, on the pylons. From there, with the help of binoculars and my camera, I can perfectly follow the crossing. There I wait for my family and friends to cross and give me a sign to take a couple of photos.
We knew that this year was going to be tough. Our friends from the boat La Biosfera confirmed it to us on Tuesday of that week when we were traveling to La Graciosa.
-"They are prepared this year, right?" (I remember his serious face).
- "Well, like other years, more or less."
- "Well, take care because, if the organization is delayed, the laziest ones are going to have a pretty bad time."
- "And why is that?" (Our faces were worried; the inhabitants of the island know the tides of the place better than anyone else.
-"Change of tides" -our friend told us- "it's a month of strong tides, Pino tides, and on top of that, at the expected time for departure, the tide is expected to change from high to low, which is when the current pulls quite strongly towards Famara."
We stood there looking at each other, while our boat was approaching the dock of La Graciosa, and thinking about the crossing from two years ago, the toughest of the crossings, when the current was pulling towards Famara.
So we spent the week, until the day arrived. A day of clouds and clear skies, at least this year there is no haze, we told ourselves, while we glanced at the tide. The words of the sailor from the boat returned to our heads.
I, as a secondary protagonist, was equally worried. This year more people than ever, 700 people. Okay, I know there are very good safety measures, but 700 people are 700 people.
Time to board the people, at that moment I start running to the pier's breakwater. There I settle in and my particular "crossing" begins. With my camera I keep taking photos, the first boat leaves, full to the brim with green caps. People shout, they are euphoric, but I know that it is until they leave the dock. From there you can hear a murmur, which moves away as the boat advances on its way, people look at the tide...
From my binoculars I see them already on the beach, the three boats that were transporting the swimmers, are stopped waiting for the SAR helicopter. I notice that they have the engine turned towards Famara, the first indication of where the current is pulling.
The helicopter arrives and the boat's horn sounds. The crossing begins. That green spot (the caps) begin to run towards the tide. Approximate departure time 13:40.
From the experience of other years, I know that the first one usually arrives in 30 minutes at most, so I calculate that it will have arrived around 14:00. From my position, the swimmers are to my left and the buoys to my right. For the second consecutive year they have put buoys, of course, lest it happen like two years ago that people got disoriented and went to stop at. . .
There I am, with my binoculars watching the swimmers. . .buoy 1. . .They are doing well, buoy 2, they are still swimming almost all at the same pace,. . . buoy 3. . . the white foam of the swimmers is approaching us progressively . . . buoy 4. . . good pace. "Excuse me, where are they going?", a girl without binoculars asks me. "To the left of the buoys, that's where they have to go so that the current doesn't drag them", I tell her.
Buoy 5. . . some swimmers are starting to lag behind, normal in a crossing people keep their pace, buoy 6. . . those who accompany me on the breakwater without binoculars are starting to glimpse the swimmers. They continue on the left of the buoys, buoy 7... ummm buoy 7...but. . . Where are the swimmers? I don't see them, I move my binoculars to the right of the buoys. There they all are, the same white foam but on the other side of the buoys.
I look at the time, 14:05, they have been swimming for 25 minutes and I still couldn't see the first one. The words of our friend from the boat come to my head. It is clear, the current was taking them away.
In the next hour and a half, they were fighting like wild boars against the current, from my window I could see them clearly. A crossing that takes approximately 45 minutes, had become one of two hours, from 2,600 meters they passed at least to one of 5,000 meters.
There they were, green and white caps adrift, swimming, swimming, swimming, but without moving forward, fighting against a current that would not let them advance, and some buoys. . . further and further away. Some raised their hands to be picked up, others clung to the canoes to see if they could catch their breath to continue fighting, others left through the Salao beach and others swam towards the bay.
It seems that the decision was made to collect everyone from the water, in the end it looked like the procession of Carmen, so many boats full of people, all devotees to those of the green caps.
It is clear, in this crossing everyone became a hero, everyone arrived and that is the important thing. It remains to be seen if the organization should have brought forward the departure, if the inhabitants of the island knew it, they should have known it. A 10 for all those who collaborated in getting all the swimmers out of the water and of course a 10 to all the main actors who have the courage to participate in such a beautiful crossing as this one.
See you next year".