Hand made, hand painted personalised chairs

Alan with his chair.  As you can see, he has shaved off his beard.

These are our club chairs, and they date from the era of paint brushes and raw talent.

I am bringing you a select few.  There are about 30 of these industrial strength chairs, and they stack into a tower that stands in one corner of the club house.

I believe they were purchased by the club about 60 years ago, and the paint jobs came 30 years later, one by one.  Some members lobbied for their own chair, while others were reluctant recipients.  

As seats, they are comfortable and just right for hanging a towel to dry.  They are robust, and can withstand high winds and scorching summers.  They will survive much sitting into the future.

In fact, 500 years from now they'll still be around, and people will read their messages and puzzle over them.

Well, we puzzle over them now.

Two of these chairs were personalised for Ray Stevens and Ron Coombs.  Some years ago, Ray and Ron left us - to cross another river - and we fondly remember them.

Barry's chair.  It says: 'Only his mother could love him'

Wendy's chair says: 'I'm only good for baking cakes but you aren't perfect either'

Yens' chair says: 'I'm a lean mean swimming machine'.

Liz's chair says: 'I'm waiting for low tide so I can walk around the baths'.

Jan's chair says:  'Slow and steady wins the race'

Can't seem to read this one.

Ron Coombs

Val's chair says: 'I must learn to share the medals around'. 

Ray Stevens

River polluted - the day we did not get wet (March 11, 2012)

For the third time in living memory, the club declared our river to be unsafe for swimming.
 

Three days ago, a deluge of rain and a sewerage overflow turned the river brown, a colour which may or may not have been mud.

We all arrive on Sunday morning, 11am, for our races, and find a river innocent of swimmers.  Even the fish seem to have fled.

The tide is up, but we're not up for it!

High tide, but we don't like what we see

No one swimming in this river...

The sun is shining, the conversation is convivial, so we hang around the club house.

 

The dog takes Margaret for a walk

Secret umbrella business

Secret men's business

A club tradition - the quiz - is next.  Scott is our quiz master, and he has an assistant to hold the plastic bag containing prizes for the right answer.

Raising questions...

Ready with the answer...

I just love this photo

Some answers raise a laugh

An answer...

A winner

The tide goes out, and it is still yuk.

Famous club member: Frank Stevens 1930-2011

Although few of us knew Frank Stevens, we can claim his success as our own, because he swam with the club as a junior member in the 1930s.

He trained in our river to became Australian backstroke champion.  He also swam in the New Zealand Empire Games. 

He was THAT close to representing Australia in the 1952 Olympics: they took a team of 12 and he was number 13. 

Frank Stevens was the younger brother of our Ray Stevens, whose second home was Sandy Beach. 

Early morning: Sunday 19 February 2012

The river is as warm as the day.  Lovely to linger and chat.

Winner of 50m junior handicap is awarded the Arthur Larter trophy for 2012

Swimming champion with non-swimming dog, Coco.

Early morning cheer

Swimmers in blue at 8am

The Incident of the Dog in the Swimming Race

(Note: No camera was used in the making of this blog post.)

Picture it. 

A sunny Sunday at the river, and the swimming club is well into the race program.

The race is 50 metres, and the competitors are six of our fastest teenage swimmers. 

The swimmers have just hit the water when Milo, a labrador kelpie cross, happens to be passing by on the shore.  He recognises Hannah, one of the competitors.  She is his very dear friend. 

In fact, Milo had once belonged to Hannah, but circumstances changed and he had moved on to another family who lived nearby.  

He sees Hannah out there in the middle of the river, out of her depth and splashing arms and legs.  Does she need rescuing?

Being a noble breed of dog, he gives no thought to his own personal safety.  On all fours, he leaps into the river and swims out to the lane ropes.  Hannah is in the outside lane, and Milo makes it his business to join her, and let her know that the bond between them is as strong as ever - and does she need rescueing?

Once inside the lane, he proves to be an excellent swimmer and would have won the race if he had swum in a straight line and been given an official handicap. 

His rescue style is to swim head-first into Hannah, mouth open, tongue dangling and no doubt wagging his tail – although you could not see that under the water.  Having bumped aside Hannah mid-lane, he then decides that all the other swimmers need his attention.  He dodges and weaves through the lane ropes and surprises  oncoming swimmers with a hearty grin at close range and face level.

He dog-paddles (yep!) in the finest tradition of dogginess, staying head-high in water way out of his depth. 

The race ends in disarray, and Milo swims from swimmer to swimmer to ensure that he does not have to rescue them. 

He leaves after the race, upon reading the sign “No swimming of dogs’. 


Afterword (1):  

Dogs have been ignoring the 'No swimming of dogs' ever since the sign was erected.  

Betty and Val remember another dog - many years ago - that was a keen swimmer.  The dog was small, but his race of choice was big - the length (356 yards) of the baths.  

He would start the race with his owner and clock a respectable time for his size and weight, beating many of his human counterparts to the finish. 



Afterword (2):

And speaking of non-human swimmers:  Betty remembers the incident of the fish.  

The river abounds with mullet.  They often leap from the water, for reasons the scientists do not know and nor do we.  

As the story goes, a mullet must have swum in the lanes, mid-race, and in a leap to escape, it slammed into the hand of a passing overarm swimmer.  It is hard to know who was more startled: the fish caught by hand, or the unintended fisherman who ended up with a live fish in his grip.

Sunday 5 February, 2012: early morning swim meet

Catching the early morning sun

Ditto

Giving the new flippers a dry run

Morning sun strikes gold against the shaded faces

Swimmers standing in front of a huge Tom Roberts painting

Bazza tells a good story

One scary dude

Washing the barbecue

Smiles that light up the day