In at the Deep End

Irene Lebeter

My numbed brain forgot the recent danger and rejoiced in the knowledge that I'd finally done it. I'd managed six or seven strokes on my own, unassisted by any ring.

My mother had never allowed me to visit swimming baths, because "you get polio and foot infections there". However on this spring Saturday morning in 1954, I finally wore down her resolve to keep me safe.

Along with my friend, Jessie, like me in first year at secondary school, I set off for the nearest swimming baths in Calder Street, Govanhill. Having been to the swimming baths often, Jessie was a strong swimmer but, thanks to my mother's fear of disease, here was I at 12 years of age and still unable to let go of the rail at the side of the pool.

I was wearing my new navy blue school blazer with gold braiding round the lapels and a pocket badge bearing the picture of a ship. I wasn't supposed to wear the blazer at the weekend but I rarely did as I was told and this day was no exception. In the bag along with my swimming costume was a blue and white inflatable ring. My parents had bought it for me during the previous summer's holiday in North Berwick. It took a great deal of puffing and blowing to get it ready for use, after which it would be slung around my middle like a hula-hoop. The ring kept me afloat while I endeavoured to work my arms and legs in unison, a feat I hadn't yet mastered.

Inside the building a strong smell of chlorine assailed my nostrils, almost choking me. We paid our entrance fee of sixpence at the kiosk near the front door and made our way along the white tiled corridor and into the baths itself. I was met by a wall of yelling teenagers and younger children, the din they were making broken now and then by the creak of the diving boards followed by the splash as the diver broke the surface of the water. I was fascinated by the colourful array of swimming caps bobbing up and down in the water. This was a novel experience and one that left me awestruck.

Forgetting to accompany Jessie on her way to the changing boxes, I wandered along the edge of the pool, far too close for comfort, marvelling at the scene before me. Engrossed as I was in the spectacle, I failed to notice that I had reached the deep end, very near to the main diving board. Nor did I spot the boy about to jump from the end of the board until too late his outstretched hand made contact with my back and pushed me headlong into the 6' greeny-blue depths.

After much squirming and gasping underneath the water, I caught sight of a pink swimming cap near to the surface. I grabbed on to it and pushed down with all my might and, hey presto, the girl went down and yours truly flew up. My head broke through the surface and, spluttering and coughing, my eyes hurting from the sting of chlorine, I swam the required number of strokes to gain the safety of the rail. Desperation had done what my swimming ring couldn't.

I climbed out of the pool, dripping wet and weighed down by my sodden outdoor clothes, to find Jessie standing in front of a changing box, holding on to the latch. The horror on her face confirmed, better than words could have done, my narrow escape from death by drowning. An attendant rushed over and assisted me into a changing box until she could assess how much damage had been done to my person.

When I assured her I was fine and went on to tell her of my successful swim, she relaxed somewhat. Once I had divested myself of my wet garments, I handed them over the top of the door to the attendant, who conveyed them to the duty room for drying out on the heating pipes.

It was a confident me who put on my red elasticated swimsuit, with its floral design. This time I entered the pool by way of the steps, keen to practise my newly acquired swimming skills. Jessie, I am sure, valued my friendship that day since she was permitted to stay in the water for a double session to allow my clothes time to dry. What a sight I must have looked when travelling home by bus in my scrunched up, water-soiled skirt and blazer.

That event from fifty-four years ago has remained fixed in my memory although a couple of things puzzle me to this day. First, that I was so surprised on arrival home when my mother took one look at me and guessed what had happened and, second, how did the girl with the pink swimming cap fare? Perhaps, if she survived and reads this, she could contact me so that I can give her my long overdue apology!