~ by Father Ron Camarda

I set out and walked the beach last evening about an hour before sunset. I walked the couple of miles from my beach access to my favorite space in Hanna State Park. Purposely I didn’t take my camera. My pen captured the moments.

There were sounds like seagulls, people enjoying the Friday dusk, the gentle crash of the ocean, and the swirling of sand, shells and sea.

The wind was from the west on this east-facing beach, so the waves were restrained. When I walked barefoot at the water’s edge, I noticed that the water was softer than usual because of the heavy rains the day before. On my walk I noticed the jellyfish that lay dead in the waves lapping the shore. The sky was blue with purple and pink tinges growing.

I was all alone even though people shared this boardwalk to the beach.

This setting reminded me of the time I was swimming with the Navy Seals in 1996 and ended up lost among thousands of jellyfish miles from the shore. It was a prayerful moment that triggered another prayer moment.

I told you I would share these prayer adventures this week about how I strived to survive two situations where I was in danger of drowning or being eaten. Here is the first adventure: The Eighth Annual Vieques to Puerto Rico Swim.

EL Navigante newspaper September 13, 1996

Enduring driving rainsqualls and strong ocean currents, 25 swimmers successfully completed the 8^th annual Vieques swim on 23 August 1996. The swim is seven and one half nautical miles long, starting at mosquito pier on Vieques Island and finishing at All Hands Beach onboard Naval Station, Roosevelt Roads. Congratulations to BMC Toth and AO2 Reisgies from EOD, the first place finishers with a time of 3:59:08 (my time was over 7 hours because we went off course and got lost and swam about 10 miles!)

Sponsored each year by Naval Special Warfare Unit FOUR, the swim, originally a training evolution for UDT candidates, is open to any DOD active duty member who successfully completes a series of mandatory conditioning swims leading up to the final swim. These conditioning swims contributed to the high rate of success in this year’s event with 25 of the 30 swimmers finishing and all swimmers safely accounted for.

Safety was a major concern in the hostile environment of Vieques Sound. Each swimmer was required to carry an approved inflatable life saving device and an emergency signal device. Boats and safety swimmers from SBU-20 DET CARIB, NSWU-4, Naval Station Dive locker, EOD, VC-8, along with the AFWTF YFU and Helicopter coverage from VC-8, combined as one team dedicated to ensuring the safety of every swimmer. (And yet, they lost us at the beginning because a current carried us a couple miles off course.)

Keeping track of 30 swimmers across Vieques Sound was no easy task, but the diligence of the boat crews and the watchful eyes of VC-8 in the sky resulted in an accurate accounting of all swimmers.

If you would like to test your physical and mental mettle next year, start preparing now and see if you have what it takes.

Father Ron’s Story:

The year was 1996, I swam with the Navy Seals on their 8^th annual Vieques swim. In the wee hours of the morning we took a boat over to the Island of Vieques from the military base of Roosevelt Roads, Puerto Rico. Then from the shore, we set out to swim the 7.5 miles back to the base. I had my swimsuit, mask, snorkel and flippers. I was confident.

I had been preparing for this swim for over a year. Almost every Friday, I got up early in the morning and worked out with the Navy Seals. The morning exercise usually consisted of about a mile swim and a three to six mile run. I hated the run. The swim in the ocean was great because the fish and coral were beautiful. Some of the Seals came to Mass and the time I spent with them “in the field and coral” helped in my ministry to them… and to me. It was better than staying in the office. Chaplains always do better if they “pitch their tents” with the troops, or in this case “pitch our fins”! When I was in Okinawa from 1994-95, I was with the Marines about five days a week. The “Daily Seven” was more like twenty seven! I actually looked forward to the physical challenge and release.

In Okinawa, I managed to be certified as an Open Diver, Advanced Diver, and Rescue Diver with PADI. The XO agreed to come back to church if I learned to scuba dive with him. I still wasn’t prepared for this Navy Seal Swim. My XO never came to Mass. He told me on my last weekend that he felt he was in church when we were diving among God’s awesome underwater world and conversing with me at 5 am every Saturday. Was I a failure? Nah!

After the third or fourth mile, I wasn’t so confident. I might have quit except the vessel and the rafts either lost us or they knew the chaplain needed to experience the peril of the sea. The waves were about ten feet high and we were in a strait (in more ways than it would seem).

There we were, all alone on the sea…we could barely see the mountains of Puerto Rico and the sky was pink. As a licensed Third Mate, I knew the saying:

Pink sky at night, sailor’s delight

Pink sky come morning, sailor’s warning!

When I began the swim, my partner was SKSN Michele Tiefert from Naval Station Supply. She was only one of two female swimmers. She was terrific, but her shoulder that she had surgery on the previous year gave out on her by the halfway mark. I was then given a Navy Medical surgeon to complete the swim with since his partner also had to drop out. About a mile from the halfway mark, we were lost and all alone. I found out later that the doc used very thick prescription glasses. I thought he knew where we were going…but we drifted a couple of miles off course. For about two hours we didn’t see a boat or other swimmer. We couldn’t talk with each other, so I went into one of the deepest prayers of my life.

At one time, I was in the middle of thousands of jellyfish. I was amazed that we weren’t stung. I remembered what Jesus said, “If you eat anything poisonous, you will not be harmed.” I had faith and believed.

It is absolutely terrifying to see a huge merchant ship less than a mile away from us when we were swimming in the open ocean. Far below me I could sometimes see sharks and stingrays. There was one time when the waves and the currents separated me from my partner. I was treading water and searching the surface in between the swells. I felt totally disconnected from everyone and everything. It was about survival. When the anxiety and panic didn’t resolve my situation, I simply sunk to a deep lonely and fascinating place of my soul. I felt I was dead and cut-off from everything that was familiar or that I knew.

Finally, when the doc and I were only one mile from the finish of this swim, a small Navy Seal boat caught up with us. I climbed up on the boat with the two men for my calf was so cramped my leg looked distorted. I told the men I was finished as I chomped on a banana and guzzled water. My lips were parched and burnt from being in the salt water for over six hours. Rashes were galore. I didn’t need any glory. While I was complaining (and you all know how I can complain!), the Seal was massaging my calf and encouraging me to finish since I was so close. The doc was ready to go, and I was not going to move. The Seal had had enough and simply pushed me into the water and drove off. I had to finish…and I did.

It was surreal.

I was the last one to complete the swim.

My body ached.

This would be a new prayer……through the suffering.

Even in the desert, the beauty is incomprehensible.

Have a blessed week.

Love, joy, peace, and happy swimming!

Father Ron Moses +

www.tearinthedesert.com

Father Ron Camarda is a retired Naval Chaplain and author of “Tear in the Desert,” a powerful book containing his memoirs of life and death at the Battle for Fallujah. Father Ron appears on EWTN and recently won the Silver Medal from the Military Writers Society of America.