Back to My Water Roots
By STEVE SMITH
June 28, 2008
When I read of Mayor Peter Kelly’s seeming reluctance to take a dip in his city’s newly flushed harbour it brought back memories.
The Mayor is a relatively young man and may not remember the days when dips in the water around the Halifax peninsula were fairly common. I, however, can recall that time quite vividly and, let me warn you, Mr. Mayor, low bacteria counts are all well and good but, before you go dipping in those waters, you need to know one thing: they’re freaking cold!
It didn’t matter where you went in, Black Rock Beach, Horseshoe Island (at the bottom of Quinpool Road), or at the Dingle, once you hit that magic spot just below the waistline, you were in for a shock.
Still, that's what we had in my childhood and that's what we used. I learned to swim at the Waegwoltic Club on the Northwest Arm. The club had no pools in those days, just a small sand beach in front of the sea wall and a series of floating platforms surrounded by deeper water.
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| My two brothers and my cousin chill at the Waeg in the late 1940s. |
Even though our swimming lessons often turned us blue we would, if the weather was decent, spend the rest of the day there eating our lunch (with a nickel-a-scoop ice scoop ice cream cone for dessert) and playing on the beach.
My friend, Skip, and I had a favourite spot at the north end of the sea wall. As the tide would come in this would be the last spot reached by the water. We would build a fort in this corner and profess (loudly) our intention to fight off the incoming sea. Other fort builders would join us as their constructions were gradually overflowed and by the time the water was splashing at our outer defenses there might be 10 or 15 noisy kids reinforcing walls or lying down in front of the incoming tide.
If Skip couldn’t make it my mother would often help sneak other friends into the club, breezing past the gate with a car full of kids as Clary, the affable gate man, would smile and nod. (Clary wasn’t exactly Horatius in defense of his portal. All it would take was a friendly wave and a bit of conversation like “How many today, Clary?” He’d look down at his hand-held counter, give you the number, and wave you in.)
As the Waeg became more civilized (and as the Arm became more filthy) it was decided to build a pool for members to swim in. Many of us had never swum in a pool before so to have one to call our own was a big deal.
It may have been a big deal but it was not a big pool (about 17' by 36'). Still we loved it and, on sunny afternoons, we would line up not-so patiently at the pool gate while the club's fogey floaters were finishing their noon-hour dip (from which we were banned).
The number of kids eager to swim far exceeded the pool's capacity so rules were required. The kids’ swim (or Open Swim) was divided into half-hour shifts. Fifteen boys and 15 girls were allowed into each session. There was a diving board at the north end of the pool, so with 30 kids splashing around and space needed to allow diving, there was very little room for actual swimming.
Jumping, splashing, and playing tag or hide and seek were the order of the day. Although it was called the Open Swim very few adults would actually venture into the middle of this menage-a- trente and we liked it that way.
Keeping yourself in the pool actually required some strategy. Apart from dodging the lifeguards, who were happy to toss you out just for having fun, you had to keep an eye on the line forming at the pool gate for the next half hour. Once it got past 10 for your particular sex, cagey swimmers would jump out of the pool and run around to the end of the line in order to get in again. We were all willing to sacrifice the last five minutes of our current swim if it got us another 30 minutes in the next one.
After a year or two it was clear that the original pool wasn't able to handle the mob of kids wanting to use it. A 25-metre pool was built and more kids were allowed in at a time. This was in the days before anal, lane swimmers so kids had the whole large section to themselves.
Nowadays the Waeg (which is celebrating its centennial this year) is a bit different. The beach on the Arm is long gone, replaced by a large, fortress-like pool that, unlike the sand forts that we kids built, is able to keep the Arm at bay. The 25-metre pool is still the main pool but this year, a new pool has been christened to replace the original one that served us old timers so well.
So, with my original pool scheduled for retirement, perhaps it's time to complete the circle and go back to swimming in the Arm. Mr. Mayor, I'm glad you got the poop out of the water now if you can just get a couple of heaters into it, I just might join you in a quick dip.