Swim the Channel? Fat chance of that!

Bill Burgess slathered in lard before his successful attempt at swimming the English Channel in 1911. (This work is from the George Grantham Bain collection at the Library of Congress. According to the library, there are no known copyright restrictions on the use of this image).

My recent mention of goose fat as a home remedy for a bad chest prompted reader Mike Brown from Stokesley to get in touch. It reminded him of TV personality David Walliams: “He smeared it all over his body before swimming across the English Channel to raise money for the BBC charity Sports Relief. The late Queen mentioned this when she presented him with the OBE for his services to charity and the arts. He replied that the application wasn’t as much fun as it looked. Probably smelt awful too. So as well as a remedy for a persistent cough goose grease is a good insulator as well.”

Walliams completed the 21-mile swim in a very impressive 10 hours and 34 minutes in July 2006, despite confessing that he had never done anything remotely sporty in his life before. Later, in 2008, he swam the Strait of Gibraltar, and then in 2011 completed the ridiculous challenge of swimming the length of the River Thames. He covered 140 miles, starting in Lechlade, which is about 45 miles west of Oxford, and finishing eight days later at Westminster Bridge in London.

For the latter two events, Walliams was wearing a wetsuit, but for his Channel swim, he was only permitted to wear a ‘standard swim costume’ as defined by the Channel Swimming Association for it to be classed as an official swim. The rules state that the costume should not aid buoyancy nor offer thermal protection, and it cannot cover the arms or legs. The same rules apply to the swim hat too, and you are not allowed to use anything that will help you stay afloat or swim faster, so no flippers armbands, rubber rings or lifejackets.

Basically, it’s just you and your Speedos against the elements. Oh – and of course, the goose gunk. Some people smear it all over their body to prevent heat loss, while other more hardy individuals cover just the areas that are likely to chafe, such as armpits, necks, shoulders and thighs. That thought makes me squirm (and if you have ever spent too long in the sea, you will understand the fidgety discomfort of saltwater chafing).

Some people choose not to use fat from a dead animal and instead make their own mixture of roughly 50/50 lanolin and petroleum jelly. Lanolin is what makes a sheep’s fleece waterproof, and is extracted from freshly-shorn wool in a centrifugal process involving hot water. It has dozens of uses, but it does harden when cold, so for the cross-Channel fraternity, it is mixed with petroleum jelly to keep it spreadable.

The first person to ever swim the Channel unaided was 28-year-old Captain Matthew Webb in 1875. He smeared himself with porpoise fat to preserve body heat and avoid the chafing. He earned fame and a small fortune from the achievement, and tried to replicate the financial rewards through other water-related endurance challenges, but none matched that first major accomplishment. He died just eight years later while attempting to swim the Niagara Falls Whirlpool Rapids.

It was another 36 years before anyone else managed to cross the Channel and he happened to be a Yorkshireman. Bill Burgess tried and failed 17 times before succeeding on his 18th attempt in September 1911. Although born in Rotherham, he spent most of his adult life in France, and competed for the country at the 1900 Olympics where he won a bronze medal in water polo. He also coached the first woman to swim the Channel, American Olympian Gertrude Ederle, who was only 20 when she completed the feat in August 1926.

Undertaking a Channel swim sounds, quite frankly, awful. Not only do you have to go to the faff of smearing yourself in gunge before plunging into freezing sea water, you also have to contend with wind, currents, tides, sewage and floating rubbish, never mind the constant traffic surging through the busiest shipping lane in the world. Then there’s the seasickness caused by the incessant motion of the waves, the sore and chapped lips, and the raging thirst thanks to the gallons of polluted salt water you’ll inevitably swallow. Why the heck would you?

Of course, I am facing my own swimming challenge later this year when I compete in my first triathlon. Let’s hope goose fat won’t be needed.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 7th March and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 12th March 2025

Coughing up a special brew

Would you be tempted to rub goose fat on to your chest to relieve a cough?

 

Following my recent column discussing weird and wonderful ‘remedies’ for coughs and colds, I have had some interesting messages from readers.

Liz Davidson from Darlington says: “An old neighbour of mine gave me a jar of goose grease to rub on my son’s chest when he was a baby for a persistent cough. I don’t think it did much good but at least I could have a good a fry up with it!”

Nick Whelan from Romanby recommends: “Warmed whisky (can be substituted with lemon juice or similar) and ginger with local honey. It’s best to use local honey as the pathogens have been collected and the astringents will then allow your body to absorb them more easily.” (I’m not sure what that means but it sounds like it should be effective!)

Caroline Newnham from York was not tempted to try the more extreme remedies I mentioned involving fish, mice and ferrets, but offers a similar suggestion to Nick: “I’m a great fan of a fresh ginger brew and paracetamol with a whisky hot toddy at bedtime. I’m not a whisky drinker any other time. I have read this week that fresh pineapple is very good for annoying coughs. Got to be better than a cold fish!”

It so happens that whisky and ginger is what my dad used to recommend whenever I was suffering with a cough or sore throat. I never tried it because I didn’t like whisky, but I can imagine that if it is warmed with a dollop of honey, some lemon and some ginger, it would be soothing to drink.

Clare Proctor says: “At my great age, and on the advice of my doctor, I only take paracetamol when I have a cold. After all, in any over the counter ‘cold remedies’ you buy, the only active ingredient is the paracetamol. All the rest is just window dressing – well that’s what she told me. She also said there was no cough medicine to get rid of a cold, they only soothe your throat, so I guzzle Benylin too. Nothing ‘old wife’ for me!”

And Judith Barber adds: “I never take Lemsip because I now react badly to all medication. Four years ago, my face became lumpy, the skin saggy, after using certain eye drops. My eyelids were so bad I had to have surgery to reduce them. The surgeon was wonderful, but it was a surreal situation, being conscious, him chatting away to me, maybe to distract me from what was happening! Talk turned to Covid, which I had not had – and still haven’t. I put it down to drinking lemon tea, with added honey, apple cider vinegar, and a piece of fresh ginger, once a day. The surgeon said I probably had a strong immune system, but another patient recommended drinking a whole bottle of red wine each day!”

Drinking a daily bottle of red would not be recommended by any medical professional I know, although a glass a day is supposed to bring some health benefits. Judith’s experience with the eye drops is horrific, but by a strange coincidence, I have recently listened to a true crime podcast where the killer had poisoned the victim by spiking her drink with eye drops. I don’t know which ingredient caused Judith’s adverse reaction, but some over-the-counter eye drops in the USA contain tetrahydrozoline which is poisonous if swallowed in sufficient quantities, which the killer obviously knew. I had a good scroll through all the brands of eye drops available in a UK-based online chemist, and to my relief could not find any that contain tetrahydrozoline.

I find it fascinating that some people have still never caught Covid. Are they naturally immune, or just lucky? Maybe Judith’s very own daily ‘special brew’ does boost her immune system and protects her from certain illnesses. Who knows? Having said that, the so-called ‘placebo’ effect can be as successful as medication in making one feel better thanks to the mind having such a powerful influence over how we feel physically. Placebo or not, when you’re under the weather, what matters is whatever works for you.

And finally, referring to my 400th column which appeared a couple of weeks ago, Lynne Wheatley sent me the following kind message: “Congratulations! Your dad would be so proud of you.”

Thank you, Lynne. I really hope he would.

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me via the ‘Contact’ tab at the top right of this page.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 14th Feb and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 12th Feb 2025