Few persons know how to swim.

By this statement I do not mean to imply that there is not a strong minority among the residents of a seacoast or a river or lake front, who can keep their noses above water for a time, and even propel themselves along at a moderate rate of speed.

But of the whole population of a country these swimmers make up only a small fraction, and even among them there are very few who are properly expert in the water.

How many people who deem themselves good swimmers can keep afloat an hour with their clothes on?

How many are there who do not exhaust themselves with useless movements so that they must leave the water or sink, long before their powers ought to give out?

How many who can support themselves and another person besides in the water?

Not many.

***

There is a moment on a hike, usually early on, when your feet are still adjusting to the rigid grip of your walking boots,
And you still feel the bounce of your rucksack on the small of your back,
When the world just opens up to you
And you can almost feel its seemingly infinite width.

Sometimes it's as soon as you climb out of the car, out of unyielding metal onto soft dirt.
Sometimes there is the prelude of a wander through a forest before it reveals itself.
The trees eventually all bowing away, unveiling.

There is so much world.
Not just one mountain but many
Rolling, jutting, looming, overwhelming
Standing forever
Being forever
To small, impermanent visitors
Like me.

There are always more hills, more mountains.
Enough to fill three months at a time.
You spend the other nine months forgetting what they look like
Forgetting what it’s like to be awed, to be struck
By so much space.

***

Swimming is an art, and, like other arts, must be learned.

To man it is not a natural gift.

There is an ancient theory that a man cast for the first time into deep water will keep himself afloat as a dog will, or a horse.

“Why should he not?” ask the theorists. “The specific gravity of a human being is just about equal to the specific gravity of water.”

Although it is true that the specific gravity of the whole human being is equal to that of water, nevertheless parts of the human being are considerably heavier than water, and the heaviest part is the head.

***

Everybody always talks about the unknowable vastness of the ocean.
Its ultimate dark emptiness, the unreal pressure and weight of water.
It’s strange to move through such hollow void
And feel so closed in.
To be so many feet underwater.
So far away from civilisation
And feel so crowded.
To move through silence with such silence.
Sheet metal pushing back against oblivion.
Holding our breath in an airless world.
With such fear of being found.

***

The best mountains are the ones
Where you can stare out from the summit and only see land.
Where the world stretches out in every direction
And never ends.
Your eyes forget what walls feel like.
To look ahead and find a barrier preventing them from seeing further.

I grew up next to the sea.
I learned how to swim at the border of its infinity.
Never going too far out
Never diving too deep
I drifted asleep to its moods and tempers
I clambered along cliffs
To watch it breath surf onto the shore
And stare out to the horizon.

***

Have confidence.

This is the fundamental rule of swimming.

The rules for directing the movements of lungs, arms, and legs depend upon this.

If a swimmer loses confidence in their power to keep up; if they distrusts the movements they are making; if they go into a flurry and waste their breath and their strength with useless kicking and paddling, they are done for—unless help be near.

***

I have known what it is swim too far out
To dive too deep.
The pressure and weight of too many fathoms
Too many people in too small a space.
Too much time in the dark.

***

Do not go out farther than a depth equal to your own height if you are liable to heart failure.

Do not swim away from the crowd if you are not certain you are an adept swimmer.

Do not stay in the water a minute after you have become fatigued or chilled.

Do not let your friends dare you to swim farther than you have swum before.

***

To swim is to skim the surface of the unknowable.
Turning away from oblivion in order to keep breathing.
To climb hills, to climb mountains
Is to face the unending breadth of everything.
To see it, to feel it.
And find breath in its infinite space.