A GREYTONITE’S JOURNEY From Texas to Robben Island
. . . and back again . . for many of us in Greyton, adventure comes in the form of mountain trails, weekend cycles, or a cold plunge in the Gobos. But for Sunnye Collins, who arrived in our village by way of Texas, adventure has always been tied to the sea — a place she’s both feared and adored since childhood.
G rowing up along Houston’s Gulf Coast, she spent weekends on Galveston Island where the- water was “warm and brown - sounds delightful, I know,” she jokes. One day, surrounded by shimmering cannonball jellies, she picked one up and felt a spark of wonder. “That was the moment I real- ised the sea is always full of surprises.” It’s a sentiment that would follow her across continents. Decades later, after moving to Greyton with her partner Tom, the pull of the ocean only intensified. In 2023, they bought a small place in Kalk Bay, and Sunnye began swimming regularly in the tidal pools and chilly Atlantic waters. Somewhere between the tidal surges and the wild Cape winds, she set her sights on one of South Africa’s most iconic open-water feats: the 7.5 kilometre Robben Island to Blouberg crossing. Her motivation was part challenge, part curiosity. “Fewer than ten Americans - and no Texans - had ever completed it. I thought, ‘Hey! I could be the first!’” she says with a grin. Training became both a discipline and a sanctuary. From the Gobos River to Simon’s Town, from Swiss lakes to desert dams in the Kalahari, she built strength and resilience. Her swimming group, Divas Who Swim, provided laughter, encouragement,
and the kind of camaraderie that carries you through cold water and long days. “Swimming in the sea isn’t something you do alone,” she says. “These women are my emotional fuel.” When the crossing finally arrived, Sunnye surprised even herself with how calm she felt. Four months of training and 120 kilometres of logged swims had prepared her well. “The hard work was done. All I felt was joy.” After swimming 100 metres to the island’s shoreline to officially begin, she started stroking toward Blouberg - noting immediately, “It’s cold and I’ve only gone 200 metres.” The middle of the swim tested her. Her hands went numb. Her feet turned to ice. She broke the journey into tiny goals: “Just log the next 100 metres.” Then
came the sea’s two extraordinary gifts. First, a compass jellyfish swept across her lips, leaving them swollen. And then - in one of those moments that feels almost mythic - a humpback whale passed beneath her. Her skipper caught it on the drone. “I got vertical, looked over my shoulder, and there she was. I shouted, ‘What is happening?!’ They yelled back, ‘You’re swimming with a whale!’” Hours later, as she approached Blou- berg, two of her Diva friends swam out to escort her in. Numb, slurring, starving - and utterly elated - she stepped onto the sand in disbelief. “I was joyful. And so hungry.” Has the crossing changed her? Absolutely. “I’m a woman, a Texan, a Greytonian. I’m brave and flawed and communal. But now I guess I’m also a long-distance swimmer.” The expe- riencet aught her presence, humility, and a surprising comfort in feeling small in a vast, wild world. Her advice to anyone facing their own metaphorical ocean: “See your goal, then focus only on the next step. Trust yourself. Be scared and do it anyway.” As for what’s next? She laughs. “First, rest - a lesson learned the hard way. After that…maybe another body of water. I feel like my swimming journey has just begun.”
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THE GREYTON POST
JANUARY/FEBRUARY 2026
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