Sunday 28 March 2010

In the Swim



I was desperately tired by the time I turned at the deep end of the pool, striking out in vain pursuit of the others, who by now were nearly at the finish.

Four years earlier, when I was about eight years old, I’d decided it was past time for me to learn. All the other boys my age could swim, some could even dive very neatly off the pier into the deep waters of the North Sea.

I went down to the harbour with a few friends, and we changed into our navy blue swimming trunks on the crumbling pier. It was high tide, and the other boys swam around shouting as I walked gingerly down the steps. When the water was up to my shoulders, I pushed off as hard as I could, striking out at the chilly water and plunging forwards… and down! As it turned out, this wasn’t swimming after all, but fortunately a couple of boys managed to drag me back to the safety of the steps.

By the end of the afternoon I could swim, after a fashion. Only much later did it strike me that skinny little chaps like me couldn’t build up much endurance swimming in the sea, since the water was far too cold to stay in for more than a few minutes at a time.

And so, a few years later, when pupils were asked to volunteer for the swimming gala I responded, “Oh yes, sir, I can swim!”

We all appeared at the swimming pool on the appointed day. The water seemed unnaturally warm. When the race started, I was immediately left behind, and by the end, all the other contestants had scrambled out long before I got to the shallow end of the pool, still over a length behind. I could hear the laughter and some sarcastic shouts from the crowd of watching schoolboys.

I touched the tiles, turned clumsily, and set off back down the length of the pool, which by now seemed very far away. The crowd fell silent, and I plodded on with my slow breaststroke, becoming ever more exhausted. Soon the crowd was applauding and cheering, but I scarcely heard anything, as I concentrated on keeping swimming.

When eventually I completed the required number of lengths, I had to be helped to climb out of the water. At the start of the gym class some days later, the episode even got a mention from the teacher.

Copyright © Donnie Ross 2010

2 comments:

  1. You should get a medal just for going into the North Sea. It's bloody freezing - always.

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  2. We must have been crazy little buggers. I went back when I was in my mid-20's, and on an impulse went into the sea (Y-fronts, such were the times) and water up to the ankles was incredibly and painfully cold.

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