Loved that murky water
Dozens get kick out of Charles race
July 22, 2007, The Boston Globe
By Claire Cummings
Dozens
of men in Speedos and women in one-piece bathing suits lined up yesterday
morning on the dock for the race. The toned -- and the not-so-toned --
swimmers hopped in place to warm their muscles while peering into the
greenish-brown waters.
But this was no ordinary swim, nor ordinary water. They were about to
plunge into the Charles River -- Boston's historically dingy waterway
that has not seen swimmers in more than half a century. The water temperature
hovered in the mid-70s and it was, as always, murky, but that did not
stop 69 people from braving that infamous dirty water.

To some, the morning jaunt was just another athletic feat. But for many
Bostonians, the one-mile loop signified hope for a swimmable Charles
-- once a forbidden and unthinkable summer activity.
Amy Walsh's father was born and raised in Cambridge and swam there in
the 1950s. He loved it, and did not know any better, she said. "You
just never know what it's going to be like -- the winds, the currents.
Is everyone going to be on top of each other? " said Walsh, 31,
of Belmont, before yesterday's swim. "I realize that they wouldn't
allow this to happen if it weren't safe to swim."
Just last week, reports of algae growth threatened the event, which
was canceled last year when the same toxic substance bloomed. But state
health and environmental officials gave the thumbs-up a day before the
gunshot. The fastest male swimmer, Sebastian Neumayer, clocked in at
20 minutes, 20 seconds; and the fastest female, Emily Sutliff, finished
at 21 minutes, 46 seconds. The last swimmer touched the dock after 45
minutes,28 seconds.
"I came from Switzerland in '78 and swimming in the Charles has
been my dream ever since," said Renata von Tscharner, 58, founder
and president of the Charles River Conservancy, as she watched the swim
from the dock. "Imagine if every urban American river became swimmable,
what that would change."
"We were a little nervous," said Judy Misiak, 54, of Connecticut
who brought a small bottle of Scope mouthwash for her daughter, Jodie,
to use after the race. "And she's number 13 , so we were a little
unhappy about that."
But her daughter, 28, of New York City, said that it was a pleasant
swim and that her skin felt clean.
"We'll see if it starts to glow later," her mother said.
Swimmers frequented the river before the 1950s when the effects of pollutants
that found their way into the water were realized. A multimillion-dollar
cleanup in the past decades has since brought the river back to swimmable
conditions on some days. But it is difficult to control toxins and objects
that pollute a waterway that slices through a highly populated region.
Tom Barry, who patrolled the waters in a speedboat yesterday, said that
in his 13 years on the State Police dive team, he had helped uncover
murder weapons, cars, and about 50 human bodies.
But the condition, and possible contents, of the water was not a concern
for many of the swimmers, especially those who often compete in open-water
swims.
Dressed in a T-shirt over a wet suit, James Raybould, 29, of London
stood stretching his arms above his head with a long, elastic band before
the swim. "I'm nervous about a couple cuts on my feet and the odd
chance I get kicked in the head," said Raybould, who attends Harvard. "The
Charles cleanliness doesn't inspire me."
Michael Welsch said he has plenty of skin space left to tattoo his latest
triumph. He ran the Boston Marathon and swam the 8-mile Boston Light
Swim Marathon several times and tattooed the city's famous Citgo sign
and a lighthouse on his shoulder blades in honor of his accomplishments.
The Burlington resident, 48, who has a prosthetic leg, started swimming
for rehabilitation after he lost his left leg in a 1978 motorcycle accident.
He said that he had driven under the influence of alcohol and that he
is fortunate to have survived.
"Will I be back next year?" Welsch said. "I'm always
back."
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