Our Dad’s ambition was to emigrate;
Decided Australia was his goal.
Organised swimming lessons while we wait;
Head of our family, saw this his role.
A Sunday morning in cold November,
Tiled surfaces and heavy chlorine;
Victorian baths in all their splendor.
I learnt how to swim when not quite a teen.
Sometime later Dad did achieve this goal;
Still a young kid I was dragged along too:
Townsville North Queensland, a school, I enroll -
“Wednesday is sport – compulsory for you:
“There’s football and cricket, teams you’re not in
Until you can swim – so first we must test……”
(Cricket? - solid ball fired at my noggin…
Hard contact footy? I’m already stressed).
Olympic swimming pool beside the sea
Palm trees, fresh breeze - blissfully tropical;
Maybe this ruling might be right for me -
No cricket, no footy, no hospital.
And there you have it – go on, guess the rest:
Unable to swim Wednesday afternoon.
This talentless pupil failed every test:
“Yes Sir (teacher), I’ll get my rhythm soon…………..”
And so this continued, then the school offered golf and as my complexion was beginning to suffer (a wrinkly fifteen year old?) I somehow managed to pass.
Obligation free excerpt from my soon to be published three volume autobiography “I’ve Knocked About a Bit” Limited edition Moroccan leather bound $750; Paperback $300. Toilet roll texts $150 ea. Delivery extra. Orders taken now.