“Is it important that I can’t swim?”
In the scheme of the things, the answer to that question could be along the lines that swimming is a vital physical ability and a more then useful life skill. But when you have joined a day excursion cruise whose sole purpose is to go skin diving with an aqualung then the question becomes more an indication of insanity.
In a way, I can understand the woman’s thought processes. After all, swimming is a conscious process of propelling yourself though a foreign medium while attempting not to drown and finding a syncopated way to breathe in air to survive, whereas with an aqualung, breathing is done for you with your own air supply therefore swimming doesn’t really matter.
Yes. I’m not convinced by that either. And the woman was wearing an aqualung and in the water before she vouchsafed the information about her lack of swimming ability!
This was in Ibiza, I think, or possibly not, but it was with a large group of people and our individual swims (if you could call them that) were limited, to put it mildly.
Our ‘training’ for our swim was minimal and the distance under the water was as limited as the length of time that we were submerged, but there was that moment when you were under water, and you could breathe. That moment of delicious panic when something that was counter intuitive actually happened. It was a glorious moment and one that I wanted to repeat, but with the number of people waiting for their ‘turn’ (and, to be fair, the fairly small amount of money that we had paid for the cruise, swim and drink) that wasn’t going to happen.
It was during a later holiday when the lure of the aqualung got to me and I had two lessons, the second one an ‘individual’ dive, where my instructor was behind me allowing me to swim on ‘alone’ giving the illusion that I was by myself.
In the first dive I was so excited that I used up all my oxygen in a very short time, but in the second swim I was more measured and I was able to dive down to a wreck and explore – and disturb an octopus! My instructor’s partner was annoyed by the time we finally emerged form the water and made it back to the shore office, as I had apparently had a lesson well beyond the allotted time.
The warm waters of the Med and the clarity of the water encourage easy and interesting swims, so I didn’t continue the process when I returned to the colder and murkier waters of the Bristol Channel.
Given the fact that I have never, ever stopped swimming during my life, the development of my interest in aqualung swimming might have been something of a natural development, but it never appealed beyond a holiday jaunt and it is not something that interests me now even though I am living by the Med.
I think that the beauty of swimming is that it really needs so little: a bathing costume (or not!) swimming goggles and a body of water in which to disport.
I know that some people nowadays come to the pool with a whole bag full of equipment for hands, feet, eyes and head, as well as floats and polystyrene of all shapes and sizes AND a bottle of water – which always strikes me as a trifle ironic – but, basically swimming is a simple sport, in so far as what you actually need to participate is so minimal.
Skin diving, and especially aqualung use is much fussier and needs much more preparation and, let’s face it, when an activity like swimming is pared down to its essentials, like a normal swim, then the answer to the lady’s question at the start of this piece is, “Yes, because that is the whole point!”
