PERIPATETICS: Fernand the Swimmer

Shirley May France’s clothes still hung on the hickory limb but she clung anxiously to a French beach, waiting for southwesterly winds to die down. The winds did not deter a hefty, partially crippled, 34-year-old Belgian mining machine manufacturer named Fernand du Moulin. Around 10 o’clock one night last week Fernand left a champagne party given by his wife, anointed himself with grease and took to the choppy waters off France’s Cap Gris Nez. He struck out with a powerful breast stroke, stopping now & then to tread water and consume 20 fortifying pints of soup and coffee doled out by a friend in a fishing boat. En route, carrier pigeons released by the escort winged their way back to France to keep Mme. du Moulin posted. Just under 22 hours after starting, Fernand scraped his nose on the pebbles of a Dover beach and hauled himself ashore.