Print 🖨 PDF 📄 eBook 📱There was always a fear of being in a pool or the sea when young. Paddling around at the edge of a beach or in the shallow end of a pool was okay – gripping a rubber ring to bob about in the water was okay, but the thought of having my face submerged in the water was absolutely terrifying. I finally learnt to swim at age seven in a calm seaside bay, my father encouraging me to continue to walk out to chest level without floatation aids, keeping the big toe of one foot on the bottom until able to allow being held up with his hands supporting my body. With his encouragement, keeping my arms and legs moving, he began releasing his hands as the strokes were being made. My father then walked backwards towards the shore, all the while encouraging another stroke and another, until arriving at the water’s edge. The vivid memory of this first swim – it felt very cold. My whole body contracted, jaws clenched tightly together, doggy paddling frantically, my neck and shoulders locked and stiff, chin stuck up above the waterline from a fear of getting my ...