Marilyn Bell and Her Historic Swim
It was just after 11 p.m. on September 8, 1954, when a 16-year-old from Toronto,
Marilyn Bell, slipped into Lake Ontario. The water was dark and cold, lit only by
the glow of lights from Youngstown, New York. From the beginning, Marilyn set a
determined pace. Fifty-five times a minute, her arms churned through the water. Her
goal—a breakwater off Toronto—was more than 50 kilometres away.
Through the early hours of the morning, her
stroke remained strong. She eventually slowed
her pace slightly to But
all night, she never stopped to rest. Her coach,
following alongside in a motorboat, wrote
encouraging messages on a blackboard, and
held them over the water for her to read as
she rose for breath.
During the following day, a 30-kilometre-an-hour wind whipped the water into choppy
waves and blew Marilyn off course, making her path to the opposite shore even longer.
In Ontario, radio stations had picked up the story, and news of Marilyn’s attempt was
soon broadcast across the country. By evening, crowds began to gather at the lakeshore.
Vacationers extended their stays to watch for the swimmer to arrive. Marilyn’s
schoolmates crowded the shore. Bright pink flares shot into the air to help keep her on
course as darkness fell.
For a moment, Marilyn stopped. She floated in the water and turned exhausted eyes
toward the boat. Her coach waited, allowing her to make her own decision. Her parents,
in a boat just behind her, struggled to stay silent. Then she turned back to the water and
began her steady front crawl once more.
Twenty hours and 57 minutes after she began, Marilyn reached Canadian shores. To the
cheers of thousands, she was lifted from the water and carried to a waiting ambulance.
She was the first person in history to swim Lake Ontario.
As a marathon swimmer, she later crossed the Strait of
Juan de Fuca in British Columbia and, at 17, became the
youngest person ever to swim the English Channel. Her
achievements changed the world’s ideas about women’s
athletic abilities and endurance.

But a heavy downpour and a violent wind
Carry my leaves away and tell me it’s time
To conserve my strength, to keep warm.
Ah! If only I could wear a hat!
Then begins the season of snow squalls and endless nights
When I listen to the stories of my cousins, the poplar, the oak and the pine.
And at long last comes the thaw; I feel very lightheaded.
The sap rises in my veins and revives me.
I stretch my limbs, I bloom, I grow and I say to myself
I am really fortunate, I love life so much.
One of these days, no matter the season, come and visit me.
where I plan to stay.