WRITTEN BY ERIC BROOKS     PUBLISHED JULY 2024

She has swum across Spain's Strait of Gibraltar, Scotland's North Channel and Northern California's Lake Tahoe. But in May, Amy Appelhans Gubser, a fetal cardiology nurse at UCSF Benioff Children's Hospitals, faced her biggest physical challenge yet: a record-setting 29.7-mile open water swim from the Golden Gate Bridge to the Farallon Islands National Wildlife Refuge.

Along the way, the 55-year-old grandmother inspired people of all ages and backgrounds, from other nurses and swimmers to the governor of California. With 26 years of nursing under her belt, including many years caring for very young children in intensive care, she sees open water endurance swimming as a great stress reliever and "a very positive way" to ground herself – and credits her stamina to her job. "I don't think I could have accomplished this if I wasn't a nurse at UCSF," said Gubser. "When you're working in a critical care environment, you have to be able to prioritize. I knew I had the ability to compartmentalize and keep myself levelheaded enough to do this."

Throughout the arduous 17-hour swim, Gubser found strength in thinking about how her patients navigate their challenges. "I've seen my patients withstand things that I don't know if I could have the courage or strength to do, and they do it with such grace and poise," she said. "I channeled that and used that to propel me from mile to mile."

Fog, frigid water, bats and other obstacles

Gubser first conceived a plan to swim solo to the Farallones – as they're sometimes called – in 2019. She knew that her body, endurance and fortitude would be tested to their limits. To succeed, she needed a team of people to help her on the journey.

Many members of Gubser's support crew had been part of her successful two-way relay swim from San Francisco to the Farallones in 2015, an event that requires swimmers to switch places every hour. "When I had that opportunity and we succeeded, I knew this was possible," she said.

One of Gubser's first challenges in her solo swim to the islands was "Karl," San Francisco's famous fogbank, known for sitting stubbornly along the coast all day long. When she began swimming, her visibility was limited to 100 meters, requiring her crew to use high-tech navigation instruments.

The water temperature was a chilly 57 degrees at the start.

Just minutes into the journey, a group of bats swarmed the swimmer. "I yelled to my team, 'What are those?' 'They're bats!' they responded. One landed on one of our team members."

Hours later, Gubser encountered jellyfish and was stung several times. "I couldn't see the jellyfish coming because the water was so dark," she said. "One attached itself to my face, and I had to rip it off."

The threat of sharks loomed throughout the swim, especially near the Farallones – a popular feeding ground for great whites, thanks to the elephant seals and sea lions that haul themselves out there. Members of Gubser's crew were assigned to keep watch.

"You assume anything that touches you in the water is a shark," Gubser said. "Your head goes there. It's a natural instinct, because what you can't see is terrifying."

No sharks were sighted, fortunately, but the boat captain did spot a couple of half-eaten seals. He didn't mention that until after the swim – for which Gubser was grateful.

Around the islands, the darkest and deepest part of the swim, the water went from cold to frigid, dropping to 43 degrees. But Gubser swam on, wearing only a bathing suit, swim cap, goggles and ear protection to comply with international rules for swim marathons.

"My experience in nursing had prepared me for this," she said. "Sometimes we have to dig deep to help a patient."

As she navigated the murky waters, she remembered entertaining one special 6-year-old with mermaid stories to help her get through some of the harder days of her illness and hospitalization. "What she wanted to do when she left the hospital was put her toes in the salt water to see if her tail sprouted," Gubser recalled. "I thought of her the whole swim. That's where I drew my strength from."

As Gubser approached the finish line – a buoy anchored off the islands – she felt humbled by the experience and cried with relief and excitement. "It's a special privilege even to be out that far. Not many people get the opportunity to go to the Farallones," she said. "That closeness was just so unique and special."

From work to the water

Remarkably, Gubser had completed a shift at UCSF Benioff Children's Hospitals just before swimming off into the history books, with only a four-hour nap in between. She's the sixth person to make the grueling swim and the first to do it in the more difficult direction, according to the Marathon Swimmers Federation.

"As a nurse, to be able to actually do something for ourselves makes us better practitioners," she said. "So I get through the tough days by grounding myself through my swimming. It helps me with my patients."

People across the globe expressed awe at Gubser's accomplishment.

"Your strength and dedication inspire us all," said California Gov. Gavin Newsom in a post on the X platform, formerly known as Twitter.

Gubser's nursing colleague Nina Manke called it an amazing feat. "We knew she was a very adept swimmer, but I don't think we realized how good she really was. We were talking about it and said, 'That's crazy. Are you sure you want to do that?'"

The days leading up to the swim were anxious ones, Manke said. One attempt was called off due to bad weather.

"The Farallones are rough," said Holly Daniels, a nurse and former crew member on shark-diving boats at the Farallones who has worked alongside Gubser at UCSF for many years. "Just the boat ride out there is an undertaking."

After the adventure

With the Farallon Islands swim in her rearview mirror, Gubser is looking forward to the birth of her third grandchild.

And like the boat crew that guided her through the deep, icy waters and hidden dangers of her pioneering swim, Gubser is on board to support the health of her patients in every way she can.

"I'm an average person and I can accomplish amazing things," she said. "People have depth within them, and if I can inspire them to tap into it, then I've won. It's like what I see with my patients at UCSF: There are profound situations to navigate and decisions they may need to make by going into that same deep place."

Photos by Tom Seawell