by Jennifer Ross
Water is my comfort and joy. If I can immerse myself in a body of water, I am happy. I grew up in Cape Town where two oceans meet, and had beautiful beaches to choose from on both coasts: the warmer, calmer Indian Ocean and the colder, rougher Atlantic. Since then, I have also been lucky to swim in the Mediterranean, the Red Sea, the Dead Sea, the Caribbean, the Pacific and recently, the Sea of Cortez in the Baja Peninsula, Mexico. I love swimming in lakes, lagoons, waterfalls, hot springs and pools, both indoor and outside.
I slip into the water and relive experiences, with those dear to me.
I remember long days with friends, cavorting in the crashing waves at Clifton Beach on the Atlantic, or lolling in the gentle ones at Muizenberg on the Indian, laughing with the delight of being young and free for the long summer holiday. Other highlights: Snorkeling side-by-side with my husband, in Akumal, Mexico, Hawaii and Bonaire, sunlight on our backs, a magical world of bright fish, coral reefs and suddenly, a giant turtle appearing, accompanying us for a while, then disappearing into the clear blue sea. A night dive in Bonaire, our diving instructor revealing a different world, alive and mysterious under the sea, inky black now, where our flashlights uncovered such treasures as an octopus curled in its garden in the sea and phosphorescent fish sending flashes of light in the dark.
I smile thinking of ladies’ day at the Turkish baths in Jerusalem, spent with a dear, departed friend, sunbathing nude on the roof, then plunging into the long, cavernous pool decorated with once vibrant but now faded Islamic tiles, and an icy lake upstate, with sadly, a now ex-friend, just the two of us and an eagle in the sky. I remember being in water in different seasons: the Blue Lagoon in Iceland with gently falling snow, and floating in summer in the Dead Sea in Israel, then washing off the salt in the fresh water springs of nearby Ein Gedi. In March, a friend of my heart and I were forced (persuaded) by a lovely teenager on our cruise, to put down our drinks at the water’s edge in the Sea of Cortez, and join her for a swim in the freezing water. After much hesitation we did and felt exhilarated by our hour together in the pristine water, before being urged back to shore by an anxious crew member.
Lately, my pleasure has increased as I have introduced my grandchildren to the water. I love hearing their squeals of delight as they run into and out of the waves, then venture into the rough surf of Long Beach, my happy place in the summer. I loved taking them into the pool, as infants, their chubby arms around my neck and young bodies reveling in the water, and now teaching them to swim, so they too, can experience the joy of swimming.
Jenny is a retired English teacher who taught high school and college. These pieces were written during the writing SG in Fall 2024, coordinated by Charles Troob and Susan Smahl.