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SWIMMING IN ROUGH SEAS
In my bathroom I have a collection of seashells on the wall. They say that if you put one to your ear you can hear the sound of the waves crashing in. I'm never quite sure that I do but in merely doing so, somehow infallibly my mind goes back to happy moments on the seashore and in turn I get a picture of the waves breaking accompanied by the sounds and smells you'd expect to hear and find at the beach. The picture is one of a sunlit sea, the white crests glinting and waves curling as they ready to break in on their journey to the sand. I see the foam like a gargantuan washing machine at work, then the blue greenness again of more settled water and then the transparency as the wave rises ready to crash.
One of my
great passions is the sea and each time I go swimming in it, I feel
like I'm in paradise. Part of the reason for this passion comes from
being born and growing up in a maritime nation surrounded by water.
For me the sea is a life force and a source of calmness at the same
time. When I lived in New Zealand and felt a bit tired or frustrated,
I'd go down to the water's edge in Wellington harbour and my tensions
would ebb away.
But there is more to this passion. For example, I
actually like being in moderately rough surf, diving and swimming
about. I like to experience its' strength and pit my strength against
it. I adore body surfing - a full contact sport as you let your body
get carried in by the breaking waves.
Now, Kiwis have a reputation for being waterbabies and for spending hours happily playing in the water at the beach or the pool. Most of us learn to swim reasonably well at school or at a club. I was no different although I didn't start out as a particularly confident swimmer. My parents must have despaired as after months of swimming lessons, I still kept one foot on the floor and seemed incapable of even floating without panicking. Then one day, I marched up to the deep end and dived in and swam the best part of a length quite happily - until I ran out of breath. That took another few more lessons - learning how to breathe while maintaining my stroke and not lifting my head right out of the water. Eventually everything came together and I was able to churn up and down the pool without stopping for lengths.
The reticence I showed in the pool was not to be seen at the beach. From the start, I had no problems swimming out beyond my depth. Although I did not know it at the time, a seminal moment must have been an event when I was about eight. The family was visiting relatives in Napier, another seaside town and late one summer afternoon, my father and I went to one of the city beaches for a dip. The waves were rolling in, and I loved it when my dad would hold me up with him as the waves broke over us. Sometimes, we'd dive through waves and sometimes we body surfed in on them. Suddenly a bigger wave emerged and as it threatened to knock us down, my father took my hand and said 'Hold tight'. It broke just on top of us and the forced swept us off our feet. I couldn't hold on to him any longer and like a piece of driftwood, I was bashed around in the water. I hit the bottom a couple of times, couldn't get a footing and started to think that the force of the wave was going on a long time! I remember wanting to breathe but that it was impossible while I was floating around, unable to get to the surface. I just had to wait a bit longer. I felt that was possible. Eventually and probably only a few seconds later, the water started to organise itself enough and I was able to kick upwards and reach air. I probably dog paddled a bit to get my footing. Looking around, I saw my dad three or four metres away where he had been swept. Although he had been unable to look after me he could tell by my laugh that I was fine.
My memory of the event is now an oft-repeated memory of a memory which has left me with the belief that whatever the sea throws at me, I can survive by staying calm, going with the flow and waiting for the right moment to act. This is what water safety campaigns preach. Don't fight the current. In reality it is easier said than done but by having one experience like mine, my confidence at being able to follow that advice has been boosted. I was not even a competent swimmer in those days! Today, I couldn't guarantee my stamina and my ability to tread water if I suddenly found myself out of my depth or in a shipwreck but I do believe I would not panic and would try to see what options I had. I feel endowered with confidence and resources when I am in the sea.
Don't get me wrong, I don't go swimming when the red flags are up or when you can obviously see the undertows, rips and cross currents. Respect for your subject matter is vital and I will size the waves up from the shore. But if the sea is remotely swimmable, I will go swimming often in seas that others will consider too rough for them.
Once you are in the water there are all sorts of choices and decisions to take. With straightforward regular breaking waves I can dive into the middle of the wave, I can dive underneath it, a tactic I use if it looks like the wave is going to be awkward after all, or I can do nothing and let myself get hit by it. This may be pleasant if you want to cool down but can also mean water up your nose and stinging salty eyes. Another option is to ride up over the wave - what a smooth feeling of power to climb up over that crest! Or, I can body surf in on the wave. For this, the wave has to be breaking at just the right moment at the right place. I don't intend to thrash about trying to swim in with waves that won't carry me with them. It may mean I have to keep changing my position and swimming in and out a bit but that is part of the addiction of surfing - finding just where to catch the wave. For a few moments the ride in is fantastic. I feel the flow all around me, the total immersion of my body in this sea that seems so cleansing, of how I am aware also of the power of my own body, of the existence of my extremities, of my own energy contributing to some greater system. It is a oneness that some feel lying on the ground under a tree, or zooming down a mountain on skis or speeding on a motorbike. For me it is riding a wave.
Seldom is there a day of perfect waves one after the other. Sometimes you get monsters that dump you on the sea floor and the drop can hurt. You have to watch out for these - listen to the way the sea is breaking and pull up out of them or dive through them if you don't want to risk injury. If I am going to get belted and hit the sea bed in a way I would not have wished then the best choice I can make is to relax and be floppy. Choosing to resist my fate and tense up will probably hurt me more. You need to perceive changes in currents and tows - better get back to the beach sooner rather than later in those cases and reassess the swimming later on. Maybe the waves start coming in in closer sequences. Noticing that helps me choose which ones to ride in on so I don't exhaust myself getting knocked down by number two just after I've ridden in on number one. Effective body surfing is a question of learning, of reading and pacing the waves and using the information the sea gives you to make your decision. You soon learn to stop doing the wrong thing when you get a head full of salt water!
While I was being tossed around in the sea on a recent holiday, I got to thinking how body surfing equated to another activity I feel passionate about - teaching. I'll leave you to work out how all the parts of the metaphor match but to give you a clue, yes, the waves are students and the way they break are their way of communicating. I have resources, timing, capabilities like swimming, floating, diving and surfing to help us work well together and form a perfect team. Sometimes I have to pull out and they go up the beach on their own, sometimes I can ride with them.
It made me realise that becoming aware of all that I do to body surf successfully was not so different to being aware of what I do right in teaching and what resources I need to develop or use better. If I can cope with rough seas with confidence and these resources, then I can cope with anything students in the classroom have to throw at me!