24 March 2011 Water Madness

In April Sam will begin a month-long, biweekly swim class at Charlottesville new city pool. I thought it would be a good idea for us to check it out beforehand, so we went this afternoon for “family swim” hours. The pool facilities are gorgeous. Sam kept referring to the family pool as a “playground” and this picture doesn’t even do it justice: slides, sprays, tubes, and 0-depth entrance. It’s a water playground all right.

But an odd one… like, Twilight Zone odd.

There are lifeguards EVERYwhere. At every angle. There is no part of the 4 pools that cannot be spied by a young, neutral-faced lifeguard wearing flip-flops.

The gorgeous pools were empty. In Brighton at the Prince Regent on a mid-week afternoon the pools would have been mobbed. When we arrived there were two other families in the family pool and one person swimming laps.

But that was fine by us. We got in, we splashed around, we were just getting warmed up (literally) when one of the neutral-faced lifeguards blew his whistle.

I looked around to see who was getting told off. In my experience of pools, the sharp shriek of the whistle means “Cut it out.” Usually there’s a finger pointing.

But I couldn’t see that anyone was doing anything wrong. I looked back at the lifeguard.

His finger was pointing at ME. Uh oh.

“Break,” he said.

“Pardon me?” I said.

“It’s break time. You have to get out of the pool.”

What the? We just got IN the pool.

Sam and I get out of the pool, we huddle in our towels and sit down on the bench. I wish that the woman who checked us in had told me that there would be a break soon. But I also think, “Fair enough, the lifeguards deserve a break for a snack or to use the restroom.”

Except they don’t take a break. Not one lifeguard moved from his station. They sat there, neutral, stony-faced as before.

The other families left. Sam and I were the only swimmers now in this brand new gorgeous pool. A pool we couldn’t swim in for another 15 minutes.

Finally, the whistle blew again. And we peeled off our wet towels (yeah… lovely) and got back in the pool. I kept an eye on the lifeguards after that, wondering when the next “break” would be. Nobody blew the whistle. But about every 10 or 15 minutes, the lifeguards would stare each other, nod, switch stations, and not say a word.

See what I mean about Twilight Zone odd?

Sam and I stayed an hour or so. The whole time I was waiting for another “break” to happen, but it never did. Perhaps there’s only one break in the afternoon and we just happened to arrive just before it. But why kick people out of the pool (especially newly arrived ones) for 15 minutes? Does the water need a rest? Is it to prevent wrinkling and pruning of the skin?

I was telling my friend this story tonight and she was thinking along preventative lines too.

“Is it to prevent…?” she was struggling to come up with something realistic.

“Water madness?” I ventured. I was still thinking of the Twilight Zone.

“Yes!” she cried. “That must be it. Water Madness.”

That’s our theory. To prevent water madness make sure you take a 15-minute break during swim hours. Spread the word!