JAMESTOWN, R.I. — Ben Tuff has made headlines for he-must-be-crazy ultra swims in Rhode Island.
He swam 23 miles solo around Conanicut Island four years ago. Then in 2021, he swam 19 miles nonstop from Block Island to Jamestown. Last year, he swam nearly 24 miles from Providence to Jamestown, the challenging length of Narragansett Bay.
Sure, the swims raised more than $272,000 for Clean Ocean Access, a nonprofit in Middletown, where he serves as board president.
But there was something bigger that propelled Tuff into the ocean.
He has battled an addiction to alcohol since drinking his first beer when he was a seventh-grader. He has found his redemption and his recovery in the water’s embrace.
Now Tuff, 43, is featured in a new documentary, “Swim Tuff: How I Swam My Way Out of the Bottle.” Produced by Matthew Corliss, it’s about that one-day swim in Narragansett Bay last year, and Tuff’s decade-long journey in sobriety.
This isn’t an “Intervention” type of tale. This is about what can come next, Tuff said, when you climb out of addiction and find your way into your life.
“One of the reasons why I made this film, and one of the reasons why I’m so outspoken, is I didn’t have anyone in my life who was a role model in sobriety as someone who embraced life, who loved everything and was able to do so without any drug or alcohol,” Tuff said.
“So I’m hoping that [people] can see that life can be an adventure again in sobriety,” he said, “and that it’s never too late to try something new and find that adventure.”
While the film is about perseverance, it’s also about the love and support that Tuff found in his family and close friends.
“I have been so fortunate to be surrounded by people that have helped me accept who I am and embrace who I am, so much that we decided to make a movie about it,” Tuff said.
Although he now lives in Vermont, Tuff has spent summers in Jamestown since he was an infant; his roots on the island go back to his great-grandfather, Admiral Herbert Seymour Howard.
Growing up, drinking was an acceptable part of life, he says. For him, it was also a poisonous way to cope with the anxieties that he started living with when he was still young.
As an adult, married with two children, and teaching full time, Tuff was drinking heavily. Daily, he drank 8 ounces of vodka, disguising the alcohol in Vitamin Water bottles, and then followed with six or eight beers.
“I wasn’t being a great father. I wasn’t being a great husband. I wasn’t being the best teacher I could be. And I was holding it together just enough for this big secret not to kind of come out,” Tuff said.
In 2012, his health collapsed. He had a panic attack and ended up at the hospital. His wife, Gretchen, gave him an ultimatum.
“She said, ’OK, you’re going to go to detox right now, and then you’re going to rehab and you are going to take care of yourself, and unless you do this, you’ll lose me and the kids,’ ” Tuff said. “I started crying. I’m ready to go. I just want help.”
Six days of detox were followed by rehab at Silver Hill Hospital in Connecticut, where he met his psychiatrist and mentor, Dr. Rocco Marotta. Tuff was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Marotta promised to help him.
“I was so excited, because I so needed to be there,” Tuff remembered. “I’m eating, I’m taking care of myself. I’m with people that can relate to me. I have doctors around me who know exactly what’s going on, and I felt free ...
“Then, it was ‘go time.’ And I was like: OK, it’s time to live.”
Tuff found his guide in his sponsor, a “no BS” kind of guy, who ran marathons. He encouraged Tuff to get involved with triathlons, and Tuff decided, why not? He’d never done it before, but he liked the discipline. He liked how the training and healthier lifestyle was changing his body. He liked the goal and the focus.
And once he dropped into the pool for the first time and began teaching himself how to swim, Tuff found the mindfulness that had been escaping him.
He swims, and he listens to music and takes in the waves, finding his rhythm. It was like a daily meditation practice, where he could be with his thoughts and his prayers, in “the place that’s kind of become my cathedral,” Tuff said.
Daily swims, years of training, distance swimming competitions. He never learned the technique of swimming. He knows he makes mistakes. He doesn’t care. For him, it’s not about being perfect, it’s about being present.
As his mind has changed with sobriety over the last decade, so has his physique. He was 165 pounds, emaciated and sick when he entered rehab. He’s now 217 pounds, fit and muscular.
He knows his purpose — evangelizing about the route to recovery. He left teaching in February to work on the documentary and become an advocate and speaker around the country.
“Swim Tuff” was shown for the first time in May to students and their parents on Block Island, where alcoholism and substance abuse are known to be common struggles.
Tuff tells audiences that he didn’t know how to ask for help. When he speaks to parents, he tells them, “No matter what, you have to have the avenues for your children to ask for help at all points in their life.”
Yes, there must be repercussions for bad decisions, Tuff said. “But what’s important is, is that there is that open-ended support system, and that kids know that there is unconditional love.”
Tuff said when he became sober, he never looked back. That doesn’t mean his journey has been easy.
His nearly-impossible swims have served as a metaphor for the path of recovery.
During the swim last year from Providence to Jamestown, Tuff was near the aptly named Despair Island when the currents and waves shoved him backward. He went from swimming 2 miles an hour to barely 350 yards. The Bay had turned against him, and he still had far to go.
“I was so mad, and I was so fed up. I had to undo my goggles ‘cause it was filled with tears. But I knew it wasn’t an option to quit. I knew I was going to get through it,” Tuff said.
“There’s been some times where, yes, I’m the happiest alcoholic, yes, I love life. It doesn’t mean that things can’t be really difficult sometimes. But it’s how we deal with those difficulties.”
He wasn’t sure he could go on. So, he went on.
Eventually, he made it.
Amanda Milkovits can be reached at amanda.milkovits@globe.com. Follow her @AmandaMilkovits.