Why I do not know how to swim

I can't remember the year, I could calculate it because the pool lessons were happening when I was in the 4th and 5th grade. But I won't calculate it, I'm here to write not to do basic mathematics.

Around that time there were a series of drownings, mostly children, in The Bahamas, Nassau, New Providence. I always found ZNS, the local news station, to be boring. But I vividly remember having my television rights taken away from me so my father can watch the news. I did not understand how the news was more important than watching Power Rangers but regardless I 'd watch the news with him from time-to-time. And I remember the reports surrounding the drownings. It was a mixture of the children not knowing how to swim and the current getting a hold of them. I remember being confused about current being in the water, current powers houses, machinery, and other electronics.

So, I had my father explain it to me. And the way he did it had my child mind envision water current as an invisible hand . It clutches onto you and refuses to let go. The more you fight it, the more tired you get and stronger the grip becomes. Then you are no more as the ocean takes your spirit.

Because of all the drownings elementary schools were sending their students to public pools to learn how to swim. It was also tied into grading, they made pool time PE—physical education—time. Once a week students were going to the pool to be taught on how to swim.

I didn't go consistently because it was $2 to go. It was the bus fee. I didn't pay because I've been a Mr. Krabs since the 1st grade. If I can preserve the money, I shall. I was so stingy with my money that my 5th grade teacher had this joke: "Boy when you graduate school you'll have enough money to buy a house." Yeah...I wish she was right.

After hearing my friends talk about the fun experiences the pool provides, I decided to go. I wasn't going to let this barrier of $2 stop me from a good time.

I paid my $2 dollars, like the baller I thought I was, and sat down on the bus. Nothing significant happened on the bus, that I recall.

When we arrived, I had a blast. We got into our swim wear, got hosed down with cold water before getting into the pool. It was great. Me and my friends played Macro Polo, then we had to let Marco play. Yeah, we had a person named Marco in our class. We had to let him play because we were saying his name, and pension and all that good stuff. Knew him since the 1st grade so I didn't care.

It was fun. We had freedom. We didn't fear the water. Yeah...what my idiotic young self did not know was that was the last pool day, for the rest of the 4th grade experience. And that was why it was fun, that's why there was freedom.

In the 5th grade I returned to the pool, ready for more fun. I'm still waiting for that cup of fun. The pool had three different pools for age groups: kids, adolescents, and adults. They took us to the deepest part of the adult pool. The adult pool was shaped like a 'C'. One end is shallow and it gets deeper the more you explore the 'C'. Even in the shallow part, I had to hold my head up so I wasn't fully submerged. That wet, or not wet, liquid mass broke me in three days.

With no humor or exaggeration, they lined us up at the deepest curve, the very corner. The water wasn't clear. It was green. And on the tile walls, I saw black things. They wanted us to jump into that.

The exercise was simple. You hold your breath and jump in. The air in your lungs would make you buoyant and you'd float back up...that what I was told. Oh yeah, if you declined, you were threatened that you fail for that day at the pool, a free F for 'cowardice'. But don't worry, if you declined they just pushed you into the water. No biggie. No one got a F.

For safety reasons, they had a long pole. If you were struggling in the water the pole would be extended to you. You would grab it and they'd pull you to safety. None of the instructors were in swimwear. They had no intentions of getting in the water.

People jumped into that disgusting thing they tried to convince me was water. When they jumped in, I could not see them. After a few second they'd poke the pole into the water and pull the person out. Raise and repeat. Children are the killers of morale. Some kids were saying how they saw things in the water. My friend, let's call him T, told me how he saw a woman with no eyes down there, staring at him.

My turn arrived. I held my breath then jumped in. I kept my eyes shut. If something was down there, I didn't want to see it. Seconds moved by, I reached up. The pole was not there.

I panicked internally. I flailed my arms around wildly, the pole was still not there. Eventually I felt it, and I held onto it tightly. I was reeled out of the water like a prized fish.

You'd think that was enough to convince me not to return...it wasn't. After that they allowed us to play in the cleaner, more manageable side of the pool. All was forgiven.

And I told T I saw a crocodile after I got out the pool. They're not even native to The Bahamas. But the possibility of a crocodile being in the water is higher than a spectral eyeless

The next week was the wave that swallowed the ark. There was a platform in the middle of the adult pool. The assignment was to swim over to the platform then back. It was on the deeper part of the pool, on a good note it was clean now.

Panic settled in me and others who were new to the pool. Even students that had attended the pool from the beginning were scared. I doubt the first set of classes would of done me any good.

A student refused to go into the water. An instructor went over to him, they argued. The instructor grabbed the student by his arm. The student resist. A grown man, a grown ass man, proceeds to wrestle the student; a 5th grader. He wins and tosses the student into the water and force him to struggle to the platform then back. The instructor did use the pole to pull him back.

Not wanting to be manhandled, I walked the plank willingly. I jumped in and swam, if you call waiting for your feet to the touch the tile so you can hop back up swimming. I tried moving my arms and feet but I didn't have the right technique. I swallowed a lot of water on my way to the platform. When I reached the platform and had to turn back, I swallowed more water. I began to panic, I wasn't jumping hard enough to break the surface tension consistently. I could see the pole, it was being extended to me. Every time I reached for it, it was as if it magically disappeared. When I hopped up, suddenly it was further. And I kept going towards it. When I did get my hands on the pole, I was already back at the edge of the pool.

The instructor pulled me up. "Are you okay?" he asked gently. That was not what he asked. He yelled at me, "Why were you panicking!" I went silent, I didn't know what to say. He was kind, seeing that I didn't reply the first time, he yelled it two more times.

"I was scared," I eventually replied.

"You were scared?" he asked, still in a elevated tone.

I just nodded sheepishly.

The reason I didn't answer in the beginning was because I found his question stupid. I was panicking because I cannot swim, and from my movements that is evident. I was panicking because I had too many mouth full of your pool's chlorine water. I was panicking because I thought I was going to drown.

I went the next week, hoping they'd teach me the fundamentals. And you know what happened? You don't? Me neither. That memory is gone. I know went the following week but I do not recall it. In reality, the adult pool broke me in two days. And I guess the third day I had to fight sirens or hydras, and I was so traumatized I suppressed it.

Um, yeah. That's why I can swim. Ironically, I still past PE with like a B. So, I think I'm pretty badass for passing a class I ended up not attending.