The bends and currents of the Bosphorus Strait mean only the most skilled pilots can navigate it without running aground. As a swimmer, there’s even less room for error.
It ’s 7 am on a blowy August weekday as we immerse intoIstanbul’siconicBosphorus Straitfrom a boardwalk 10 feet above .
This historied Turkish watercourse divides the metropolis into its European and Asiatic identities , stretching 20 milesfrom the Black Sea to the Sea of Marmara , where it flows out to the Dardanelles and into the spangly Aegean Sea beyond . One hundred and thirty shipspass through the strait day by day , and its crimp and currents intend only the most skilled pilot program can navigate itwithout running aground . As a natator , there ’s even less way for computer error .
hoi polloi can anddodrown here .
The Sarayburnu Conquerors swim the strait almost every morning—some even use it to commute.|Photo by Rena Effendi for Thrillist
But I ’m with a consecrate group of eightIstanbullocals who ’ve told me the most significant slice of advice is to stay calm . For them , the Bosphorus is more than just a wild waterway — it ’s a day-by-day ritual , a connection to chronicle , and a agency of life . The Sarayburnu Fatihleri , or Sarayburnu Conquerors , a loose collection of teachers , baklava chef , and retirees who have been meet on these shore for the past two decade , swim the strait almost every day at dawn . Though some pack their holding into waterproofed grip and drown their agency from Asia to Europe to nullify the city ’s grueling morning commute on their way to work , most just do it for the chill .
I desire to experience the Bosphorus with the mass who knew it best — the ones who ’d been swimming in the sound since they were Thomas Kid . So after finding out the grouping is open to guests , I reach out .
And now , I feel myself inducted into their morning ceremony : float to a modest , rocky islet half a mile to the south . By the time I come on from the initial dip off the boardwalk , I ’m already several meters downstream . My quickening heartbeat is checked by the laughter and exaltation coming from the eight men spread in the water around me . It seems I ’m the only one apprehensive about getting strickle by any ship or being express out to the opened sea .
Maiden’s Tower is a monument on an islet near the southern entrance of the Bosphorus.|Photo by Rena Effendi for Thrillist
“ How beautiful is this ? ” shouts Cemal Gümüş , a 50 - year - previous savings bank managing director , as we move aside from the shore of the bustling Asian - side neighborhood of Üsküdar . He ’s wearing a bright cherry-red swimming pileus , goggles , and squiffy gentle shorts with an submersed camera tied to his wrist to nab some videos for the mathematical group ’s Instagram write up .
It is , in fact , beautiful . As we swim further out , the current flows over us in gold and obsidian - downcast silk sheets . As I dive under the aerofoil , I watch 61 - class - old Sermet Akyüz , a businessman with a wide , saltiness - and - pepper moustache , swim in front of the neon emerald sun as it beams through the waves . Trails of bubbles retrace his strokes in long electric arc as he move by . Across the strait in the hills of Taksim and Beşiktaş , apartment windows blaze iridescent orange , ruby , and pink in the early morning time light . The Bosphorus bridge sweep Istanbul ’s continental gap luxuriously in the distance behind us — its skyscraper - sized pylons stand up like spotter at the gateway to civilization . The French author Alphonse Lamartinesaidit best in 1835 : “ If one had but a unmarried glance to give the world , one should stare on Istanbul . ”
Our address is none other than Maiden ’s Tower , a repository that has existed in one form or another since it wasbuiltby the Athenian commander Alcibiades more than 2,000 years ago . Sitting at the southern entrance of the Bosphorus , it ’s as visually defining a complex body part as Istanbul has ever had . And it ’s coming up tight .
The group stretches before plunging into the strait.|Photo by Rena Effendi for Thrillist
“ When we get close to the towboat , aim for the middle ! ” Gümüş warns me . “ If you let the flow take you to the right wing , you ’ll come to the rock candy . If it push you left , you ’ll omit it altogether . ”
The sleep of the group commence gun it for the concrete chopine the tower reside on . Meanwhile , I go into a dedicated front front crawl just as the sea changes pitch , pushing us hard toward the fierce rapids curl up around the island ’s correct side . It ’s so powerful that the daub where I wanted to make landfall is already a lose lawsuit .
I try out my best to stay calm .
Mehmet Seçkin and Sermet Akyüz are both members of the Conquerors, though the latter has been swimming in the strait since he was 10.|Photo by Rena Effendi for Thrillist
in conclusion , I latch on to one of the moss- and - mussel - covered Boulder that surround and lead up to the tower , arriving mid - plurality . The grouping outcry and express mirth as we ruffle across the platform , radiate beadlets of piddle dripping off our bodies as we take in the now full uprise sun .
After a short breathing time , we ’re back in the sea . We make a quarry stay at a collection of car - sized rocks about 1,000 substructure in the south of the tug that sits just a few base beneath the airfoil . They ’re tricky to happen , even if you ’ve swum to them before . Your best bet is to dive underwater and follow the telltale Greek chorus of thou of mussel clicking in the current . If you may locate them , they allow you an unrivaled view of the strait and the city that not even the Ottoman sultan could have glimpse .
From here , we make our way to the shore , walk up the careen that slant into the piddle , juiceless off , and prepare breakfast on a concrete shelf built into the seaside walk path . Three big , white bakery wrappers form a makeshift picnic mantle for the repast ; a photographic plate of calamitous olives , poğaçaand börek ( flaky Turkish breakfast pastries ) , and baklava , courtesy of the radical ’s darling baklava chef .
The author joined the Conquerors on a morning swim. Sometimes the group numbers in the dozens.|Photo by Rena Effendi for Thrillist
“ swim here is like therapy , ” Gümüş recount me as we sipçaytea and chit-chat about the group ’s affection for the strait . “ You give whatever you ’re carrying to the sea . It ’s an incredible touch sensation . "
The Conquerors ' origin story begin in 2004 , when the group was still an cozy , unknown age group of individuals who have it away swimming in the Bosphorus ( and , occasionally , across it ) . As the years passed , its members began organizing their sports meeting - ups more methodically , leading toa Facebook groupin 2010 and a WhatsApp group in 2017 . It was the latter twelvemonth when Gümüş link up their ever - changing ranks after meeting members while swimming off the coast of Sarayburnu — the headland of land on the European side of the city that inspired the group ’s name .
On July 3 , 2018 , the Conquerors posted theirfirst picture on Instagram(Gümüş can be seen in the photo on the far left , munition raised and smiling ear to ear ) . A month afterwards , they caught theattentionof local news daily for their habit of swim to and from dozens of points along the Bosphorus , something Istanbulites find alternatingly bizarre , unwise , and charming .
The trick to navigating the treacherous strait is to always stay calm.|Photo by Rena Effendi for Thrillist
Another intellect they made newspaper headline was due to their saving of the metropolis ’s sacred ocean - borne pastime . In the thirties , Istanbul ’s beach culture had entered what many call itsgolden age , withdozensof sandy bays and wooden docks stud the sound on both sides . But Istanbul ’s massivepopulation spikein the sixties ( and subsequent urbanization ) led to enough pollution in the Bosphorus that most of those beaches finally shut down . Seaside exploitation projects slowlyturned sand into concrete roadways , and for many , the approximation of swim in the Bosphorus became a nostalgic dream .
For the Conquerors , though , that dream never died .
Neither does the dream hold back when the season ’s warmer months end . While the grouping swells on occasion to as many as 60 people on summer weekends , that bit plummets to four or five stout soul in wintertime . Sermet Akyüz is one of those ride - or - dies . Akyüz started float in the Bosphorus in 1973 when he was just 10 days old , and for him , the pass is an extension of his identicalness .
The men, bonded by their love of the Bosphorus, enjoy breakfast together before going their separate ways.|Photo by Rena Effendi for Thrillist
“ I was n’t as professional a bather [ as a kid ] , ” Akyüz enjoin . “ I converge the Conquerors seven years ago , and since then , I ’ve been swimming with them . Winter , summertime , it does n’t matter . I ’ve had so many unforgettable moments here . The best part is the view . The palaces , Maiden ’s Tower , the span , the vibrant lights . Drinking tea on the shore at crepuscule with the sea in front of you after a swim is something else all . ”
Those perspectives are hard - earned . The Bosphorus is an integral part of Istanbul ’s head , always admired and romanticize from the balconies on its shore and the ferries that move across it . But in the last half - century , its masses have , for the most part , stopped touching the water . Owing to the nature of exchange here , the strait is more oftentimes image as a affair in the way — something to get across in as little time as possible to reach work , home plate , or a friend “ on the other side . ” That framing can dim the strait ’s meaning in citizenry ’s minds and hearts over time , something the Conquerors see more clearly than most .
“ You miss your connection to the city and the weewee if you do n’t drown in the Bosphorus , ” Gümüş tells me , lamenting the course . “ We ’re swim in history . Not many people experience that . It ’s a blessing to drown here . ”
As we finish breakfast and start order our adios , it ’s unmortgaged that the water supply connects these men to each other as much as to the city they know in . It ’s a lovely thing . I thank the group and head home feeling initiated into something bigger than myself .
The next good afternoon , Akyüz messages me a screenshot of the swimming they take to begin with that forenoon . I put down my coffee . Nine miles , two hour in the pee , starting up near the Black Sea and down to Maiden ’s Tower once again . They ’ve choke closely the entire length of the strait .
“ It was nice , ” says the 61 - twelvemonth - sometime . “ The stream was tedious today , but there was lot of action . Lots of sauceboat dealings . At one full stop , a submarine pass us by . ”
“ Were you nervous ? ” I ask , already predict the reply .
“ If you stay calm , there ’s no place for worry . ”
