author, creator, mighty fine swimmer
I learned to swim when I was six or seven. In Miami Beach.
Our family was on summer vacation at one of those big beachside hotels. The ones with the vast pools and cocktail bars. Not that I knew what a cocktail was. But the pool was awesome. For a small tot, it was a lake—giant and blue with funny drawings of fish on the bottom.
One day I was playing on the steps in the shallow end, and my Dad comes over and says: “It’s time you learned how to swim.”
Here’s what happened…
The story of New York City begins with the arrival of Henry Hudson’s ship Half Moon into New York’s Upper Bay and then on to the island of Mannahatta (Manhattan) on September 12, 1609.
It was almost noon on that Saturday, and Hudson stood on the quarterdeck with his son, John, and took in a bay such as he had never before seen. Excerpt from my book New York 1609:
… I swam around Manhattan island, New York City. That’s 30 miles. Nonstop.
I’ve written about this event elsewhere, but I’ll take this anniversary day to reveal a bit more. About the swim. And how it relates to what I’m now doing.