Bell nears final segments of swim around Saipan

[B]By JAMES BEL[/B]L
[I]Special to the Saipan Tribune[/I] [I]Editor’s Note: On June 9, 2008, James Bell celebrated his 70th birthday swimming the five-mile channel between Saipan and Tinian. It was a feat he last achieved in July 1981, when he marked his retirement from the U.S. Navy by swimming alone from Saipan to Tinian. His next goal is to cross the Torres Strait from Papua New Guinea to the Australian mainland. To practice for this arduous journey, Bell will be swimming along the coastline of Saipan, with the goal of eventually circling the entire island. Here, he will be sharing his experience with Saipan Tribune readers as he attempts the feat.[/I] [B][I] Third part of a series[/I][/B]

The interval between my reports has increased as I make my way down the windward coast of Saipan. I have begun to experience postponed attempts due to wave heights, something I did not have to deal with on the other side of the island. The trade winds came back for a while and that change increased the height of the swell moving in from the east. When I looked at swell, pushed by a brisk onshore breeze, breaking on the reef and surging up over the wave cut benches, I realized I could get over the reef by finding a rip channel with an outgoing current or by jumping from a bench between waves, but those tricks do not work when you are coming back over the reef. Coming over a wave pounded reef you have never seen before after a 6 or 7 hour swim can be a rough way to end your day. These are the arguments I used when talking myself into going home and trying again on another day.

On August 8th, I made my second attempt at getting out of Bird Island Bay. I started the venture with a hike which ended at 5 1/2 miles with the offer of a ride from David Selepao. At the bay, conditions were not great, but it was time to get moving. I found a rip channel on the north side of Bird Island and was pulled through the reef by the outgoing current. The swim south was a continuation of cliffs rising from wave cut benches, occasional caves extending under the cliffs and infrequent breaks in the cliffs where intermittent streams flow to the sea. Where the cliffs were lower in height lush tropical vegetation was visible climbing the slopes above the cliffs to the skyline. It was slow going in the chop created by incoming swell meeting reflected waves coming back from the cliffs. This chop occasionally created a wave in my face and a mouth full of water. After five hours I began to feel waterlogged and thought I probably had absorbed a month’s worth of minimum daily salt requirement. I began to see signs of human activity late in the swim as I traversed the seaward side of Kingfisher Golf Course.

I had been swimming for over six hours and was tired. I got my hopes up with several indentations in the cliff line, but instead of ending in a beach, they ended with waves crashing against rock piles, so I pressed on. At 6pm I rounded a point and found myself looking at Jeffreys Beach at the end of a rather narrow canyon through the cliffs. It would be dark in less than an hour and light was already failing in the canyon. I was in no position to shop around, so I headed straight for the reef. The first breaking wave propelled me toward the beach, but the second wave dumped me on the reef on my right shoulder. It was smooth rock, not coral and sea urchins, so there was no damage done. It was almost dark by the time I hiked out to the road. I had swum 5.18 miles in 7 hours and 6 minutes and now resumed the pavement pounding part of the trip. Four miles later, I gratefully accepted the offer of a ride back to my hotel with LDS missionaries, Elders Smith and Peterson.

Getting out of Jeffreys Beach proved to be more of a challenge than exiting Bird Island Bay. Once again, my young friend, Daniel Villegas, came to the rescue providing transportation to the rather remote beach on two occasions. Daniel left for college in Hawaii so his family got me to the beach for my third attempt on the 23rd of August. Rik and Janel Villegas and their children Kiana, Alicia and Jason hiked with me down the heavily rutted road with knee deep mud holes filled by recent heavy rains. I did not attempt to cross the reef, but made an entry from a wave cut bench making my leap of faith between waves.

I saw only one shark, a blacktip, on my swim south from Bird Island, but the trip south from Jeffries Beach proved much more productive in shark sightings. In a one-hour period, I saw six blacktips. They are harmless and often curious reef sharks and I think the six sightings could probably be accounted for by two sharks making multiple passes. Sharks are usually rather discrete, gliding slowly by looking at you out of the corner of their eye. One of the blacktips came by, then turned, stopped swimming and looked directly at me in amazement. He went for a friend and they were back in about 10 minutes. The friend was being typically aloof, but the curious shark, once again, stopped and stared at me. I could imagine his friend saying to him “It’s not polite to stare.”

Early in the swim I passed a small inlet with a well known rock formation called “Old Man by the Sea” because of the resemblance to the head of an old man. I guess the old guy must have been gazing inland, because from the sea side I saw no such resemblance. Given the choice, I would rather continue to be the old man in the sea.

Sea turtles were more plentiful than sharks with seven of the beautiful creatures passing by. I extended my hand to one – he advanced cautiously, then thought better of it and swam away.

Farther south on the east coast beaches are encountered with good coral development seaward of the reefs. The signs of human habitation become more frequent in contrast to the miles of deserted shoreline that must look much as they did when the navigators of centuries ago viewed them for the first time By mid afternoon, I rounded Laolao Kattan Point, a sharp pointed extension to the island which seems to attract waves. Progress in the confused seas was slow, but once beyond the point, my field of view to the south was filled with Forbidden Island, my destination. Forbidden Island is an elongated point which has been separated from the island of Saipan by erosion. It is actually joined to the main island by a slightly submerged shelf studded with large rocks. It has a bad reputation because people wading across the shelf are exposed to waves and the possibility of the “one big wave” sweeping them into the sea. In the most recent tragedy, four visitors to Saipan were swept from the shelf. Three were drowned and the fourth barely survived the experience. I think tragedy occurs because people regard the sea as a great threat and feel their lives depend on getting out of the sea as fast as possible. They push themselves to exhaustion trying to get back through the waves and across the rocks or reef. The danger is in the rocks or reef and waves, not the sea. It is much better to get away from the area of breaking waves, stay together and wait for help.

My crossing of the reef at Forbidden Island was an easy one, completing a 4.9 mile swim of 6 hours and 41 minutes duration. I was happy to see my welcoming committee composed of Rik Villegas, his daughter, Lakell, and their friends, Manny and Christina Carula, coming down the trail. The trip back up the steep trail can be more hazardous to your health than Forbidden Island. Stretches are steep enough to require ropes for assistance.

There was no delay for the next segment of my swim. On the 29th of August, Rik and Janel saw me most of the way down the trail to Forbidden Island and then waited to see that I got over the reef all right. Once again a small rip channel provided access to the open water beyond the reef. On that day, I would traverse most of the shoreline of Laolao Bay. It would be a swim with more variety than usual with cliffs and beaches and reefs. I would see no sharks, two turtles, one sting ray and one large jelly fish. I saw a rather underfed looking crown of thorns starfish. He must not have been getting enough coral in his diet and that is encouraging. For the first time on the windward side of the island, I would encounter fishermen casting their nets on the edge of the reef. I would swim below what may have been a college class holding an open-air meeting at the top of a 40 foot cliff overlooking the bay. It was rather late in the afternoon when I reached the end of a long line of cliffs. A small beach looked inviting, so I crossed the reef completing a 5.1 mile swim in 6 hours and 17 minutes. A steep trail through the jungle led to the village of Dandan and the offer of a ride home with Juan Wabol, the Acting Director of the DPS Fire Division.

I hope to complete my swim around Saipan with two more swims. The first to take me from Laulau Bay to Ladder Beach, the place where I started my swim of the Tinian-Saipan Channel 27 years ago, and the second segment should take me out of the channel and back up the west side to Sugar Dock where I started my adventure on the 4th of July.

[I]To be continued.[/I]