1st Place – Team Australia
Five starts. Five lighthouse finishes.
There are some races where everything comes together perfectly. And then there is One Water Race.
After four previous editions of making it all the way to Landsort and the lighthouse, we knew better than to think that history was any guarantee. One Water Race has an extraordinary number of moving parts, and no matter how good the weather looks, how well prepared you are, or how many times you have reached that lighthouse before, there is always plenty that can go sideways.
There is always plenty that can go sideways.
The weather was probably the kindest we have seen over the years. The seas were behaving, the conditions were relatively forgiving and, for a brief moment, Sweden seemed to be giving us a free pass. But we were determined not to get complacent. The race still had to be run, swum, navigated and generally survived.
Glenn was once again leading the swimming like a boss, putting us in a great position through the swim sections and making the water look considerably more inviting than it actually was. Swim after swim, we worked our way through the course.
Rob was on the maps and navigation, making good decisions and keeping us moving fast and in the right direction. Mostly. There was, of course, one small navigational hiccup. A classic map fold error saw us miss a checkpoint and cost us a fair chunk of time. Not exactly the sort of sightseeing opportunity we had planned for. But importantly, it didn’t derail us. We regrouped, accepted the mistake and got back to doing what we do best, moving forward.
Elizabeth brought the engine room of the team together. She kept the pace honest, the momentum going and the team moving when the fatigue started to bite. It was her job to keep an eye on the little things that can become big things when you are many hours into a race.
Julian was exceptional as support crew. Calm, organised and seemingly capable of producing whatever was required at precisely the moment it was needed. Having someone you completely trust on the other side of the race makes an enormous difference, and Julian is absolutely an integral part of the team’s success.
Our biggest strength, though, was that we trusted each other. There was no drama, no fuss and no wasted energy.
Our biggest strength, though, was that we trusted each other. There was no drama, no fuss and no wasted energy. Just consistent forward movement and a quiet determination to keep everyone on track. We knew our roles. We knew what each of us brought to the team. We communicated, made decisions, looked after each other and, most importantly, kept moving forward. There was no need for heroics or panic. Just four people doing their jobs, making good decisions and keeping the wheels turning.
There was no need for heroics or panic. Just four people doing their jobs, making good decisions and keeping the wheels turning.
Eventually, though, we started to feel the accumulated miles. On Utö, we could feel the dreaded Death March beginning to creep in. Rather than stubbornly pushing through, we made the tactical decision to take a short sleep. It wasn’t a glamorous pit stop, but it turned out to be a brilliant decision. The refresh was remarkable. We came back out moving considerably faster and made that time back, and then some, as our pace picked up again.
Not long after Utö, we started mentally preparing for the famous Danziger Gatt swim. For the majority of the race, the water was brisk and mostly calm. However, we knew our luck would soon run out. It is almost as if every time we prepare to swim the Danziger Gatt, the gods of the archipelago throw some chaos our way.
Sure enough, the wind picked up, and a miserable chop started blowing at a 45-degree angle right against our course. To add insult to injury, a brutal current kicked in about one kilometer out from the checkpoint as we tucked in behind the rock. Suddenly, we were swimming at the breakneck speed of an overweight seahorse. We fought for every single metre, but we finally hit the shores of Nynäshamn, one swim closer to Landsort.
And somewhere amongst all of this madness, Sweden decided to put on a wildlife show. Not one Swedish moose. Seven. Seven moose out on course. Because apparently navigating a 250-kilometre-or-so maze of Swedish islands in the middle of an adventure race wasn’t quite surreal enough. And then, as if the moose weren’t enough, we were treated to the Northern Lights. There we were, somewhere out in the Swedish wilderness, exhausted, cold, wet and racing through the night, with the sky putting on its own spectacular little performance above us. Moments like that are a pretty good reminder that One Water is about considerably more than just racing.
Eventually, the familiar sight of Landsort appeared. The lighthouse. After four previous years of reaching it, there was still absolutely no guarantee we would get there again. This year, though, we didn’t just reach it. We won. First place. And with that, Team Australia became the only team to have reached the lighthouse in every single edition of One Water Race.
We won. First place. And with that, Team Australia became the only team to have reached the lighthouse in every single edition of One Water Race.
This one felt particularly satisfying because it wasn’t won through one spectacular moment. It was won through hundreds of small decisions. Knowing when to push. Knowing when to sleep. Trusting the navigation. Recovering from a mistake. Looking after each other. Keeping moving when things started to hurt. We didn’t have a perfect race. We had a strong race, a smart race and, most importantly, a race where we trusted each other completely.
Five years. Five finishes. One lighthouse.
Team Australia. Standing Strong!
