Kristin Jones completes historic English Channel swim
- Klas Stolpe

- Jul 1
- 15 min read
Swim effort from England to France produces one of the fastest all-time crossings for women

By Klas Stolpe
Juneau Independent
Juneau’s Kristin Jones did not just successfully swim across the English Channel last week, but she did it in one of the fastest times for all genders in 2026.
The 2008 Juneau-Douglas High School graduate looked like she was setting a Crimson Bears state record or a Glacier Swim Club best time as she touched the shore at Cap Gris-Nez, France, on Saturday, June 27, in a time of 10 hours and 33 minutes — also faster than any relay teams this season. Christine Murray swam 10:03 on June 21.
“Thank you all!” Kristin Jones texted to friends after finishing. “Basking in the afterglow and only one painful jelly sting. What a glorious day. So calm. So Warm. So many good vibes from you all and I was imagining you all as I was finishing… ”
Historically, Jones’ time is 164th out of 1086 swims by women in the England to France direction, the top 15 percent. The swim is governed by the Channel Swimming Association (www.channelswimmingassociation.com). The straight line distance across is 21 miles, but powerful tidal currents in the Strait of Dover push swimmers into a slight S-shaped path that can bring the total to 25-35 miles. Jones started at 8:15 a.m. UK time and finished at 6:51 p.m. UK time.

Later Jones would text, “Now that I have slept for a couple hours my brain is back online. Lots to process from a day that outlived my wildest dreams! My body is hurting and I can barely lift my arms. The buttpaste has been scrubbed off and the places that rubbed while I was swimming are a nice bright red from sunburn…”
The swim held many personal feelings for Jones. She lost two brothers, Ryan and Owen Jones, in 2019 and 2024, respectively, to Friedreich’s Ataxia, a progressive and debilitating neurological disease with no cure. She swam to raise awareness of the disease and hopes followers will donate to the Friedreich’s Ataxia Research Alliance) at www.curefa.org — the foundation working to find a cure for the disease. The team donation name is Juneau Joneses.
Jones was also attempting the crossing with life-long friend Abbey Jackson Ferree, 36, a 2007 Petersburg High School graduate, who was completing the second leg of the Triple Crown of Open Water Swimming. She completed the New York Open Water 20 Bridges swim around Manhattan Island last August, 28.5 miles in 8:51:58.

Jackson Ferree had gone in the water on Sunday, June 21, and crossed in 14 hours 23 minutes. She is next scheduled to swim California’s 20-mile Catalina Channel in September to complete the “crown.”
Following are a series of questions with Kristin Jones after her successful swim:
Q - What was the hardest part before the swim?
A - Once I got here, honestly, the hardest part was just trying to stay relaxed and enjoy myself with my family while also carrying this huge thing in the back of my mind. We did some wonderful things — went to the Harry Potter Studio Tour, met up with my brother Trevor, did some sightseeing, and met up with relatives while we were here. It was a genuinely great trip.
Q - How anxious were you to swim?
A - Once Abbey went, and then the second swimmer went a couple days later, the waiting got hard. Harry (Fred and Harry Mardle were the pilots of the vessel Masterpiece), our captain, told me on Tuesday I probably would not go until the weekend. A couple days later it became, “Maybe Friday night." We planned to leave around 8 p.m. Friday. Then Friday morning he told me it probably would not be that night — more likely the next morning — and he would confirm by 6 p.m. That whole day was difficult, just not knowing if I would be swimming that evening or waiting until morning, or possibly even until Monday…I will also admit that during the lead-up I found myself comparing my training and preparation to other people's. Self-doubt, fear, anxiety — these things affected me as they would anyone. But I worked hard to approach them as a natural part of doing something this big, to practice acceptance of all the emotions that came rather than fighting them. That acceptance was a big part of the experience. I felt underprepared at times and afraid I might fail. And I accepted that as part of it too.
Q - How did you stay calm then?
A - When he finally said I was not going that night, I spent the afternoon mixing my carbohydrate feeds and locking in my feeding schedule in my head. I had an early dinner — nachos with beans, cheese, sour cream, and guacamole, no meat, from a Mexican place I had grown to love — and lay down around 8 p.m. I told myself there was nothing left to do but sleep, and I actually slept pretty well: 10 to 1, then 1 to 3:30, then I woke and went down to the beach outside our Airbnb and watched the sunrise with my dad. By 5, I was eating oatmeal and drinking coffee. I had taken Bonine the night before for seasickness. I gave my daughter a quick hug and kiss goodbye, hugged my parents, and we drove down to Folkestone to meet the boat. There were thunderstorms going off in the distance as I had my coffee that morning — strange, knowing what I was about to do.

Q - Hardest part during the swim?
A - There was a stretch from about hour six to hour eight where I hit real fatigue — my energy just started dropping and I thought, this isn't good. I adjusted my feeds from every 45 minutes down to every 30 for a couple of feeds to get more carbohydrates in without changing my ratios, and took some Tylenol. After that I started feeling better, and we alternated between 30- and 45-minute feeds until I felt steady again. By the time we were back to 45 minutes, we were only an hour and a half or so from shore. I had some aches — tight hips, a tightening neck and shoulders, had to stop and stretch a couple of times — but nothing cramped, and I knew at that point I was going to make it.
Q - Describe some of the tactics — before, during, and after. Who was on the boat and involved in strategy?
A - The escort boat really handled most of the strategy. I met with Harry the day after I arrived in Dover, just to talk things through and calm my nerves. He's done several hundred Channel crossings and is a sixth-generation fisherman — he and his crew do this every single summer, and they knew exactly what they were doing. On board with me were my observer Suzanne (Martin) — an official Channel Swimming Association observer who counted my strokes periodically, noting I was maintaining 60 to 62 strokes per minute, documented everything I consumed including any medication, and made sure I stayed compliant with the rules — along with my brother Trevor, his girlfriend Hannah Brockman, and my partner Marcus. Harry and Fred were the captains and owners of the boat…I also want to say how much the love and support from Marcus meant to me throughout this entire journey — not just on the boat, but in every way leading up to it. And Abbey's family, Eric and their crew, were endlessly generous and supportive in ways I won't forget.
Q - Was water temperature an issue, given the heat wave in Europe?
A - Not at all — it actually worked in my favor. The water was around 60 to 62°F throughout, which felt chilly at moments but was otherwise pleasant, almost incredible given what I had trained for. I had prepared for much colder.
Q - How many warm-up swims did you do there?
A - I swam about three or four times in Dover and three or four times in Deal, each session between 30 minutes and an hour. In Deal, I had just walked across the street to the beach — the current there was genuinely fun. Depending on which direction you were going, the same stretch could take 15 minutes one way and under four minutes flying back the other way. Dover was in a protected marina, swimming along a half-mile yellow buoy line alongside other swimmers — some local, some also preparing for Channel crossings. Never much chop there, which made it a great place to dial in technique before the real thing.
Q - What time did you start the swim?
A - Around 8:15 a.m. UK time, which was about 11:15 p.m. Friday night in Juneau. I finished around 6:51 p.m. UK time — roughly 9:51 a.m. in Juneau, given the nine-hour time difference. I ended up swimming the entire crossing in daylight, which actually surprised me — the day before, I had expected to start at 8 p.m. and swim mostly in the dark. That unpredictability is exactly why you train for everything: cold water, chop, nausea, aches — every scenario. What I got instead was close to a dream day: flat calm water, warmth from the heat wave, strong energy, and minimal jellyfish stings.
Q - How often did you consume sustenance, and what did you eat?
A - I stopped after the first hour — which genuinely flew by, I thought they had gotten the time wrong. After that, every forty-five minutes until around hour six, then switching between 30- and 45-minute intervals depending on how I felt until the finish. My main fuel was a concentrated carbohydrate blend I had been training with all spring, targeting 70 to 80 grams of carbs per hour. Marcus mixed it on board — 200 milliliters of concentrate with 200 milliliters of warm water, which helped a bit with core temperature even though the water itself wasn't especially cold. At different points he would mix in extra carbohydrates, caffeine gels, or — a couple of times — Advil or Tylenol, vigorously stirred so I could get it down quickly. There may have been some unintentionally generous carbohydrate doses along the way too. I am not complaining — I swam great.

Q - How often did you communicate with the boat?
A - I had earplugs in and could not hear much, so I had told them ahead of time not to expect verbal communication. They used a whiteboard instead, giving me little landmarks and distance updates that I had read while drinking my feed — genuinely helpful. I would communicate during feeds if I needed something — switching which side I was breathing on, asking for Advil at the next stop, fixing my cap when I couldn't manage it myself. A couple of times I drifted too far from the boat and Marcus would wave an umbrella at me — like Mary Poppins — to get my attention and bring me back. One stretch he had to do that three times in a row and started to worry. But I was fine, just zoning out a little.
Q - How long did it take to find a rhythm? Did you rest? What were the hours like?
A - It didn't take long at all — usually it takes me 30 to 60 minutes, but I think two years of mental preparation meant I knew exactly what I needed to do and just executed. I thought about everything and nothing. I sang the entire "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" all the way through — genuinely proud of that — and counted my strokes up to a thousand more than once. I loved watching jellyfish drift far below me. One did get stuck against my hand at one point, which was irritating, but otherwise the stings felt like brushing through seaweed — by the time you registered what it was, it was already behind you.

Q - What were your first thoughts as you approached the finish?
A - By the final stretch I felt strong and thought, even if conditions turned bad now, I could still make this distance. I had some tightness and aches but nothing that stopped me. I got a real burst of energy near the end and told the crew, “Let’s stay at 45 minutes and get this done.”
Q - Were the beach folks startled to see you come ashore? Who greeted you?
A - Coming into Cap Gris-Nez, France was its own kind of funny. There was a strong current, and it took about 10 to 15 minutes to actually reach shore once I left the boat — longer than I expected. Harry paddled alongside me in the dinghy as I swam away from the main escort boat toward shore. I had pictured a pebble beach like Deal, but it was all sand and the water wasn't very clear…Harry handed me the Alaska flag while I was still swimming, which was a bit comical — I was still swimming, how was I supposed to carry it? It got soaked immediately. He told me I could stand, so I stood up — water to my knees — and started running toward shore. He started filming and I stopped and turned around, not realizing he was shouting “No, keep going, you are not done yet!" So I kept running, carrying this flag, looking like the sea monster myself. A few French beachgoers came over — I do not speak French, but I think they asked if I had just swum across, and I said yes. It was surreal not being able to really talk to anyone about what had just happened. Then Harry called me back to the boat. A little anticlimactic in the moment — but I got to stand on a beach that very few people ever get to stand on, and I even got greeted there, even if I couldn't understand a word of it.
Q - What was the first thing you ate when you finished?
A - I was not very hungry — probably from all the carbohydrate liquid I had been taking in for over 10 hours, which surprised me since I have been ravenous after past swims. I had one piece of pizza that evening and that was it.

Q - How long did you sleep afterward? How long did it take to feel normal?
A - I got home, scrubbed off the zinc oxide I had had plastered all over me with dish soap, showered, and washed my hair for the first time in three days — I had avoided it beforehand out of fear my cap would slide off mid-swim. Saw my family, then went to bed…The next day I felt pretty worked over. My left shoulder felt strained, though it improved with rest. I had a fairly vicious sunburn where sunscreen had worn off, and I was tired and a little extra hungry, but I slept really well that night — I think I was still running on some residual adrenaline or endorphins. What a relief. What a smooth, dream day. The best conditions I could have ever hoped for.
Q - Your time of 10:33 placed you 164th out of 1,086 women's solo England-to-France crossings — top 15 percent. What!!??
A - That's incredible to hear, and I am just so proud of and grateful for this swim. If I were to distill what led to this success, I would say it came down to three things: mental preparation, physical preparation, and luck. I had a dream day out there. Not everyone does. I do not take that for granted for a single second.
Q - Were you anxious waiting after Abbey's swim?
A - It has been wonderful to have Abbey here with me. She gave me the gift of reaching for this dream — the courage and inspiration to do it alongside her — and for that I will be forever grateful. Our friendship goes back decades, and I look forward to many more years together. Maybe in another 20 years we will be laughing at everything we thought we knew today, the same way we laughed at our younger selves during this trip. This whole experience has been a true blessing, and I am grateful for swimming, for family, for friendship, for travel, and for getting back to who I know myself to be. We came out of this with a stronger friendship than we had before and I am so proud of her for coming so far in her own healing. It is powerful to know someone through the rollercoaster of life and to see them as different versions of themselves.

Q - What is next for you?
A - Honestly, nothing right now — I am just sitting with this. I plan to enjoy the summer, focus on building my private practice, keep moving forward in my career, and keep swimming every day. Getting into the lake as much as possible. I also want to take a moment to say how grateful I am to everyone who has donated to the Friedreich's Ataxia Research Alliance in honor of this swim. As of now we have raised $3,781 for FARA — for Ryan, for Owen, for the Juneau Joneses — and that means more to me than I can say. And to the Glacier Swim Club Masters swimmers: the endless support, the encouragement, the long swims alongside me in training — thank you. You are a huge part of this.
Q - What was it like having family on board, and what is the reason behind doing this?
A - Having my family there meant everything. This swim was always about more than the distance — it is tied to my brothers Ryan and Owen, who I lost to Friedreich's Ataxia in 2019 and 2024. I have been fundraising to help find a cure for 13 years now, since 2013. Now, with a nine-year-old daughter and feeling like I have come through my own gauntlet as a woman and a mother, this swim felt like a way back to who I was — and beyond happy to be there again. This was a big deal for my family and for me, and I am proud of us and our healing. I am grateful to live somewhere like Juneau, with the kind of community support I have here.
Q - What did your daughter Aubrey do when she saw you after the swim?
A - She grabbed me and said, "You got your goal, Mom! So proud of you." Since then she has been talking about her own goals. That right there is enough for me.
Q - Anything else you would like to share?
A - I hope younger people see this and think — “I can do that.” I hope they feel the courage to reach for dreams that feel too big sometimes, because without big dreams you might miss out on something beyond what you ever imagined for yourself. To anyone seeking the courage to try something hard: find someone to share your goals with. Find someone who will hold you accountable to yourself. Surround yourself with good influences and positive people who believe in you and support your unique self — because you become who you surround yourself with. Choose wisely.
Q - Can you expand on that?
A - Self-doubt, fear, anxiety — these things did not leave me just because I was doing something extraordinary. They came along for the ride. But I worked hard to accept them as part of the experience rather than signs that I shouldn't be there. That practice of acceptance — of all the emotions, even the hard ones — was one of the most important things I did to prepare. I felt underprepared and afraid I might fail. And I went anyway. And sometimes, no matter how hard you try to control every part of something, there is simply no way to do that. So you do your best, and then you accept that you can't think of or control everything — and you trust yourself that you can figure it out. That is something you can only understand through experience. And you can only have the experience by doing something that makes you uncomfortable.

Note: Friedreichs ataxia (FA) is a rare, inherited genetic disorder that causes progressive damage to the nervous system, leading to uncoordinated muscle movements (ataxia). The neurodegenerative disease damages the spinal cord, peripheral nerves, and the cerebellum. It affects 1 in 40,000 people in the United States. Symptoms usually emerge in childhood or adolescence and worsen over time, often impacting mobility, speech, and heart health. Typical onset occurs between ages 5 and 15, but it can present in early childhood or later in adulthood.




• Contact Klas Stolpe at sports@juneauindependent.com


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