By Joel Matos Ortíz.
Joel Matos Ortíz (37, Puerto Rico, MSF bio here, @joelmatosultra) has crossed the English Channel, the Cook Strait, the Strait of Gibraltar, the Catalina Channel, and a 47 hour 6 minute 92 km crossing from the British Virgin Islands to his native Puerto Rico in 2019.
But it was his cold water channel crossing of the North Channel from Northern Ireland to Scotland earlier this year on August 16th in 13 hours 36 minutes that was his toughest swim yet.
He tells his story below…
One month ago, I conquered the North Channel, between Ireland and Scotland. A crossing that marked my life in a way unlike any other challenge I’ve experienced in Oceans Seven or other voyages I’ve experienced.
The First Attempt: The Night and the Jellyfish
On August 2nd, I began a night swim at 11:30 pm. It was pitch black; I couldn’t see a thing. Soon, the first stings from the Lion’s Mane jellyfish arrived, which gradually triggered a severe allergic reaction in my body. The itching was so uncontrollable that I sometimes had to stop to remove my goggles and cap and scratch my hair.
The worst came next: difficulty breathing. I continued swimming, but my wife (who was with me on the boat) and the Infinity Channel Swimming and Piloting Services team realized the severity of the situation. They made me stop. I was in real danger.
Leaving the water was a decision I’d never made before during my travels. I felt fear, frustration, and, for the first time, vulnerability. Three days of medical treatment were necessary for me to recover. Curiously, the cold, which was my biggest concern as a Caribbean native, wasn’t a negative factor.
The Second Attempt: Resilience and Purpose
Two weeks later, after I’d recovered physically, another opportunity arose to swim in the next window. Staying in Ireland meant adjustments and sacrifices, but it also gave me a second chance.
On August 16th, two weeks after my first attempt, at dawn, I jumped into the water again. This time, I swam with a different conviction: to never give up and to honor the youth of my island through the Puerto Rican Youth at Risk organization (Jóvenes de Puerto Rico en Riesgo).
I wasn’t just raising money for them, I wanted to set an example for them. My goal wasn’t just to achieve a specific time, because I knew I wasn’t fully recovered yet. Instead, I wanted to show myself that failure is sometimes part of the journey, not the end.
The Arrival in Scotland
The jellyfish reappeared. The first ones I saw took my breath away, but I managed to dodge them. My body and mind understood that this time would be different. The cold was no longer an enemy, and for many moments, I enjoyed it. After 13 hours of swimming, I arrived in Scotland. Not only did I cross the North Channel, I also crossed my own fears, completing my fifth crossing of the Oceans Seven.
More than an athletic achievement
I arrived in Ireland with certain expectations; I left having achieved those that the Channel imposed on me. Beyond the sporting aspect, the life lessons were immense: resilience, courage, and the value of a second chance.
I am deeply grateful to the local swimmers who supported me during that month and to everyone who joined me from Puerto Rico. And just like the title of my book, “Between Strokes and Waves,” we conquered a new journey with purpose.
Waiting is also crossing
This poem is dedicated to all athletes who, in one way or another, are “waiting” to achieve their goals, big or small. Even if you read it carefully, it applies to the race of LIFE we lead every day. If you relate, please share it.
There is a silence that cannot be seen,
but heavy.
A time that is getting longer
like the shadow of a wave,
before you break.
I hope not with my arms crossed,
but with the soul on guard,
Senses tense, pulse awake,
as who knows that the call can come at any time.
The mind travels routes I have not yet conquered, while the body hones memories of past workouts,
and my heart prepares to float
between fear and hope.
Waiting is not stillness,
It is resistance without applause,
is to trust the right time,
where the wind, the tide and life
they decide to open the door of attempt for me.
It is in this imposed calm
where true strength is tested:
not in the arm,
but in the patience of the one who does not give up.
Because every day without leaving
is also part of the journey.
Because if the sea is destiny,
waiting is the sacred threshold.
And when the sign comes,
when they say, “it’s today”,
I will not hesitate.
Because fear and weariness,
they have become my allies,
on this eve, which is my first swim.
A Spanish translation is here.
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