Brighton Sea Dogs

"Do you think you'll write a book about your swim?" My Mum was quick to clarify her question: "I know not many would read it, but I probably would." More than a little put out, I hit back: "I think we'll be too busy making the film, to be honest, Mum, so the book will have to wait." So much is already in place. I have a working title for the film: some sort of clever play on 'Jaws', and with our Sea Dogs name, I'm trying to choose between 'Claws' and 'Paws'. Deciding who should play Graham was easy; I just need to track down Chewbacca, and see if he can do his strange roar/cry with a soft Edinburgh lilt. I think we have most of the key elements of a good film. We've had set-backs: there was a time when Graham and I were both in and out of A and E; I discovered that hitting the side of a car whilst travelling fast on a bike is not ideal for the shoulder, and definitely not ideal for the bike itself, and Graham'

1. Thou shalt not turn up in shorts and t-shirt when the ambient temperature is less than 5 degrees. (GK) 2. Thou shalt not forget a swim cap and goggles. They really help. (GK)   3. Thou shalt not swim off at right-angles. Regularly. (SMT) 4. Thou really shouldest check which way the tide is going before you swim. 4 minutes one way, 24 minutes to get back doesn't impress anyone. (SMT and GDK) 5. Thou shalt not be overly concerned if a saxophonist turns up to practise pre-dawn on the beach and plays ‘Careless Whisper’ whilst you take off all your clothes. On more than one occasion. Remember, it's Brighton. 6. Thou needest remember that just because you feel reasonably good when you get out doesn’t mean you won’t develop a serious case of shivers 20 minutes later. ‘Afterdrop’ means the cold blood from the extremities floods the body's core after a delay, meaning hypothermia is delayed… (SMT and GK regularly). 7. Thou wouldst be wise to always pack two towels, a

'The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.' (FD Roosevelt) And 400m-long tankers which could smash a ferry in half. And millions of jellyfish. And floating pools of raw sewage. And sharks (apparently). And cold. And the heebie-jeebies. And the busiest shipping lane in the world. And sudden changes in weather and sea conditions. And sea sickness. And pirates (apparently). And failure. But apart from 400m-long tankers, and jellyfish, and raw sewage, and sharks, and cold, and the heebie-jeebies, and the busiest shipping lane in the world, and weather and sea changes, and sea sickness, and pirates, and failure, the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.

There's a great scene in the Life of Brian when Brian approaches the secretive looking group sat on the steps; 'Are you the Judean People's Front?' he enquires, nervously. 'P***off. We're the People's Front of Judea.' There are more than a few passing similarities for the uninitiated Channel-swimming wannabes, desperately looking for a pilot to charter them across the busiest shipping lane in the world. Compared by one writer to 'like navigating a snail across the M25', it's fair to say the choice of pilot feels like a pretty crucial decision. There are two associations who provide pilots to get the aspirational swimmer across - the CSA and the CSPF. We were warned in very blatant terms by one pilot's mother to be 'watchful' - in her view, one offer we'd received from a pilot was surely too good to be true, and, she warned that "he must be from the other side". CSA or CSPF? Was one better than the other? Was t