April 1, 2026: After considering several different areas around the world for her next crossing, Marcia Cleveland (61, USA, MSF bio here), an International Marathon Swimming Hall of Famer and the author of Dover Solo, was interested in the Strait of Hormuz because of the warm water and pretty marine life.

She explains, “This area of the world has recently been subjected to pointless warfare, so I thought swimming the Strait of Hormuz would offer an olive branch towards a quick and peaceful resolution. It would also be a memorial to the countless families who have needlessly lost loved ones in this senseless conflict.“

Refresher

The Strait of Hormuz is the body of water between the Persian Gulf and the Gulf of Oman in the southeast. It provides the only sea passage from the Persian Gulf to the open ocean and is one of the world’s most strategically important points due to the export of oil and natural gas that passes through this Strait. In recent weeks, the world has certainly learned of its significant existence.

Cleveland says, “Since I’ve been covering a lot of distance in the pool over the past few months, the 42 km course spanning between Oman and Iran felt manageable. I
liked the idea starting on the eastern side of Oman, then catching the tide to push me towards the larger land mass. Research revealed a mountainous bathymetry (seafloor bottom) in the eastern side of Strait, leading into the Gulf of Oman, while the western section of the Strait, nearer the Persian Gulf, was flat and sandy.

Such a varied sea floor could create some interesting and unforeseen currents to navigate. Let’s Go!

The logistics were fairly straightforward. Emirates Airlines has a non-stop flight from Chicago, so our team departed from O’Hare Airport on March 28th and arrived in Dubai in the United Arab Emirates the following evening. The weather forecast looked good for an April 1st start so we had two days to gather supplies, meet the boat pilot, and familiarize ourselves with the starting point.

We stayed at a VRBO in the Burj Khalifa in Dubai that had a lovely view of the water. Early Tuesday morning, we did the three-hour drive to the Līmāh Harbor on the east shore of Oman over some windy mountain roads. I felt more comfortable having done this in daylight so we could see where we were going. Before the start of the actual swim, we’d be driving this route in the dark so it was good to know where the treacherous parts occurred. During this test drive, the Customs officials between Dubai and Oman were really nice and wished us good luck.

We found a boat captain through the guy at the Information Desk in the Burj Khalifa and met Captain Rayie at the Līmāh Harbor on Monday. We were amazed at
his grasp of English and later found out he had spent five years on fishing boats on the west coast of Ireland. Captain Rayie familiarized us with his fishing vessel, DARVO; it was similar in comfort to the escort boat we had in Tsugaru Strait in Japan and it would do nicely.

Captain Rayie proposed a starting point: a beach just north of the Līmāh Harbor and he kindly took us to this starting point so we could see what it looked like. Getting familiar with as many parts of the swim helps calm my nerves. Unless there was a major change in the forecast, this swim would happen the next day.

Captain Rayie requested we load up the DARVO around 5:30 am on Wednesday morning and depart the harbor quickly. My sunscreen would be applied on the boat as we motored to the start, then the boat would drop me close to the Līmāh Beach. I’d swim the rest of the way into dry land and aim to start the swim about 6 am. Captain Rayie wanted to be well underway before the 6:24 am sunrise and do the first feed around 90 minutes into the swim. With high tide charted for 10:55 am, if I could get 6.5 km to 8 km into the Strait before the tide switched, we had a good chance to pick up the high tide early and be carried north, directly towards the outcrop of wetlands, just south of Sirik, Iran.

Although we just met this captain, all of us had a good feeling about him. On the way back to Dubai, we stopped for a late lunch of chicken tacos. The crew loaded the packed bags into the car so our early morning departure would be as seamless as possible.

On Wednesday morning, we pulled out of Dubai at 2:15 am and arrived at the Līmāh Harbor three hours later. We were encouraged that the usual tanker traffic has been greatly reduced in recent weeks, making the trip less stressful. However, the jamming of radio signals did not allow my usual route tracker to operate effectively for folks watching from afar to follow my progress. When we boarded the DARVO and started motoring to the start, my usual pre-swim jitters loomed large. Once I jumped off the boat and made my way onto the beach, I calmed down. A gaggle of local schoolboys were just arriving for their morning prayers and enthusiastically greeted me. I told them what I was doing, we exchanged a few pleasantries, and they wished me well. At this point, I turned towards the water and the matter at hand.

The blare of the airhorn signaled the start and I was off at 5:57 am UAE time (+9 hours Chicago, USA). I got into a fast rhythm and would sustain this 80-strokes-per-
minute for nearly all of the swim. It was now all business until we got to the other side.

I was moving strongly through the rolling 1-meter seas and maintaining my trademark 6-beat kick so Mark and Richard held off on the first feed, to cover as much water as possible. At 1 hour, 58 minutes. Richard gave me the feed signal (2 fingers held up like a Peace sign) and I responded with a 2-minute sprint. When I lifted my head, Mark threw me my Contigo bottle on a feeding line. I guzzled it down in 10 seconds, and we were off again. It was barely 8 am and I was nearly 20 km into the Strait. The real fun was about to begin.

We were expecting strong currents, but what I experienced was more like a jet-propulsive force. Lee and Karen maintained communications in the wheelhouse while Captain Rayie navigated. On the radar, Lee and Karen recognized a Destroyer rapidly heading our way from the south. Karen loved hearing Captain Rayie speak with
the Ship Captain of the Frank E. Peterson, Jr. [shown below on left], asking, ‘We have a swimmer in the water. Will you be passing astern or fore to DARVO?’ Some back-and-forth conversation transpired and the Ship Captain readily agreed to pass astern since this would allow me to receive a push. (This same situation happened last summer when Karen crewed for me in Öresund.)

The propeller of any motorized sea vessel often stirs up wash and I would be the recipient of this energy coming from this large ship. About 10 minutes after the Peterson passed astern at 9 am, I felt this gigantic surge of water from below and was carried 2 km eastward in about 16 minutes. Next, around 9:45 am, the Destroyer Spruance [shown above on right] went by and this sudden increase of current pushed me farther even faster: 3 km in 18 minutes. I was riding my own private jet ski.

With all this excitement, Mark and Richard made the decision (again) to hold off on my second feed until the wave created by the Spruance subsided. I didn’t mind and knew they hadn’t forgotten about me. Soon Richard’s two fingers came up, I accelerated my stroke count and we went through the same feeding routine again. This time, Mark yelled to me, ‘You’re doing really well and swimming about 5 kilometers an hour. This effort has been coupled with a big push from those Destroyers. The tide is starting to turn now so keep up your momentum.’

In fact, the tide would turn 45 minutes early – this type of good fortune never happens to me. It’s usually the other way around. Captain Rayie thought I’d catch the high tide around 9 km into the swim, so 32 km in 4 hours was fantastic. Guess that’s what happens when you’re The First One to do such a swim.

The water was flowing fiercely, but at least it was carrying me in the direction we wanted to go.

If I kept up this pace, we’d finish around noon. Puffy clouds dotted the blue skies above; the morning sun felt warm upon my back.

I could see only the DARVO because the mild swells cut off my view of the land. Had I wasted time to take a good look, I could only imagine the jeers of Tourist to come bellowing from my crew. Often, Karen and Lee gave me reassuring thumbs up signs so I felt as safe as one could swimming through an active war zone. I knew they were tracking the radar and the rest of the beeping devices in the wheelhouse. We would soon find out just how helpful all that technology would be.

The Destroyer Spruance, rides alongside us for a bit, wondering what’s going on.

Without warning, a swarm of drones appeared overhead and hovered for long enough to make me nervous.

I kept telling myself, ‘Focus on your stroke, don’t look up, they’ll go away eventually.’

Several Apache helicopters zoomed in and shot them out of the sky. Right after these drones disappeared, Lee noticed a really big ship rounding the Oman shoreline from the north. Was this an embargoed oil tanker or some military vessel? It turns out that the aircraft carrier USS Abraham Lincoln [shown below] had several fighter pilots taking off towards a developing situation, but this fracas was at least 16 km to our west.

Despite the distance, I could tell when bombs dropped. A big ‘KABOOM’ could be heard underwater, followed by shockwaves in the water. When the first blast occurred, I had just run into a playful pod of dolphins. It’s always amazing to swim with these remarkable creatures and I sense they feel the same. Every time we heard a ‘KABOOM’, the protective dolphins surrounded me and nudged me forward. These events were noted in the log, in case contact with marine life is an issue in obtaining official ratification.

Again, I rode in their strong, propulsive wakes and this surely allowed me to pick up some distance towards the finish. Another thing I really like about swimming with dolphins is that they scare off sharks. Not the little ones, but the more sizable creatures with big teeth, like the one in Jaws. This swim was going so much better than I ever could have expected: I’m catching rides from massive wakes created by both man-made objects and organic beings, the possibility of encountering things that chomp had been reduced thanks to my friendly pod of dolphins, and the current was massive.

USE WHAT YOU GOT! And I was getting a lot today. But not so fast….

Out of the skirmish that the USS Abraham Lincoln was dealing with, several limpet mines had been let loose into the Strait, and I did not appreciate this. A limpet mine is a type of naval mine attached to a target by magnets. Since its development in the 1930s, these buggers can now be thrown overboard by a sea vessel and remotely
guided to a specific metallic object on which to detonate. I really didn’t need to have my escort boat blown to smithereens when I was less than an hour from completing this epic swim.

The word in the Strait was that there was someone we could contact to request a cease fire for just a few hours. We even filled out this paperwork on Monday. Going into this swim, we were told by a very credible source, ‘The Strait of Hormuz is open.’

Captain Rayie started working his magic with communications. He called his friend, Hassan, who coincidentally lived down the street from the Harbor Master in Sirik. Once the Harbor Master had been apprised of the situation, he sent out 12 small crafts to surround our boat and escort us the final bit to a safe finish. If a limpet mine attached to one of these small boats, there was always a replacement at the ready. I will always be grateful for the generosity of those in these small crafts; over half of them returned to port once my swim was over.

By this point, I could see the outcrop of wetlands ahead. The inshore, calmer waters came as a relief but with the calm, the current disappeared. I had only 200 meters to go and the DARVO waved me on since they needed to stay out in deeper water. During this last bit, I could see that the bottom was strewn with beautiful coral reefs, several aquariums full of colorful tropical fish, and many unexploded bombs. As I got closer to the white sandy beach, a small entourage became visible along the shoreline. I raced to the shoreline and ran up the beach, crushing the finish.

The entourage turned out to be Navy SEALs waiting to welcome me. One SEAL teetered towards me, sputtering, ‘We’ve been waiting nearly 15 minutes for your arrival. I’ll give you all that’s left from this 2-liter congratulatory bottle: a Shot of Vermouth.’

The DARVO’s airhorn blasted once again, signaling my finish, at 11:54 am local time. I had done it, swum the Strait of Hormuz in a speedy 5 hours 57 minutes.

Hopefully, my crossing will create a bridge towards immediately resolving these currently troubled waters and serve as a memorial to all those who have unnecessarily lost their lives in this idiotic war.

© Courtesy of Marcia Cleveland

“to educate, enthuse, and entertain all those who venture beyond the shoreline“