There has been much water under the bridge and over the dam since Bryan and I first met each other in Ballycastle, Ireland. His upcoming induction into International Marathon Swimming Hall of Fame is well deserved and long overdue.

One of the most memorable events of my then young life at 24 years of age included a most memorable cast of characters who had gathered in Ballycastle for a race in 1964. The group included Kendall Mellor, Michael Jennings, Cdr. Gerald Forsberg, a tall upstart nearly 7-feet tall whose last name started with G, my father, and Kendall Mellor’s sponsor Tommy Holmes who owned a junkyard and transported us to the event in a beautiful red Jaguar sedan, and others.

After arriving in Ireland, the first order of business was to establish what time the pubs close. In England, closing times vary according to county, days, etc.

We flagged down a bobby [policeman] who was pedaling a bicycle along the rural road that we were on. His answer to our query was, ‘I don’t know for certain, but I reckon sometime about the middle of October.’ We laughed and that set the tone for the next two days.

Local residents graciously provided comfortable lodging and for entrants and their entourages in their private homes. By the time dawn arrived the following morning, the town had doubled in size from 2,000 to 4,000 people along with a parade and modest marching band. The event was sponsored by Rothman’ cigarettes and people began to place bets on which swimmer they thought might win. Around noon, the race was cancelled after the temperature at the water’s edge was recorded at 49°F (9.4°C). The swimmers wasted no time getting back into their street clothes and heading to a nearby waterfront hotel for lunch and libation in an underground setting.

The afternoon wore on hour after hour without any discussion about or indication that it would ever end. At one point, I asked the person next to me if he thought we should be concerned about a police raid. His reply was, ‘No worries mate, there both in here with us.’

When we finally emerged from the smoke-laden environment to head back to our room, a clock on the wall indicated that it was 4A am and the second hand was still moving which I took it to mean that the clock was not broken. In retrospect, my main takeaway from the day – in addition to my gratitude for the race being cancelled – was that most everyone in Ireland has a friendly nature and a beautiful singing voice.