posted on Sep, 29 2010 @ 11:19 AM
When I was a child, I was quite the capable swimmer and I went on holiday one year with my family to a place that had a swimming pool with a wave
machine.
For a good proportion of the holiday I enjoyed going into the swimming pool and enjoying various other attractions of the swimming baths such as the
long slides and etc.
Anyway, one day I was in the rather crowded swimming pool when the wave machine started, and I got a bit adventurous and a bit stupid as kids are
sometimes bound to be and I went down to the deep end where the wave machine's waves were at their most extreme.
After a while, I knew I had made a mistake. The waves were crashing over me and I was struggling to remain above the surface. Literally, the powerful
waves were putting me under, and no amount of swimming could get me away. I was trapped, treading deep water, gasping for air and sinking fast, and I
just hoped the wave machine, which was on a timer, would soon end and I would be alright.
But on it went, the waves crashing, and me fighting to keep my body, and then just my head, then just my mouth and nostrils, above it. It began to
dawn on me that I was struggling not just to remain above the waves, but for my life. I began to panic, but out of the futility of my struggles, I
began to feel a sick calm. I began to accept my life may be ending, and there was nothing that could be done short of truly hoping the wave machine
ended and the waters to become calm and give me respite or for a lifeguard to spot I was in dire straits. It did not happen.
It was then that I heard a woman's voice say quite clearly and calmly: "Are you alright or do you need a hand?" and I just managed to catch a
glimpse of a rather pretty woman in perhaps her late 30's to 40's looking at me smiling, calmly riding the waves as if nothing was amiss.
"Can you help me please" I somehow managed to blurt out amid my struggles, and it was then the woman came over as calm as you like, and assuredly
grabbed me round my chest with one arm, before swimming on her back to the shallow end, carrying me along to the shallow end, very much like what you
would see in Baywatch.
We got to the shallow end, and she released me and I began to recover.
Needless to say, I thanked her for saving me, and she just smiled serenly and asked me if I would be alright. I thanked her again and told her I would
be alright.
She said goodbye before swimming off for the deep end.
Meanwhile, I stayed in the shallow end, and got my breath back, truly grateful to the woman.
Here's the strange thing. I did not see that woman again. She was not a lifeguard (nor was she dressed as one), and she was not in the pool when I
scanned a little while later, and I am sure I would have seen her leave. She made an impression on me by saving my life, and I'm sure I would have
seen her again/
I did not see her around the holiday camp, in fact I never saw her again.
This might be thought of as normal, and I would agree, perhaps I just did not see her again because I was not paying attention in the pool when she
got out, and perhaps I did not look hard enough around holiday camp to find her, but the strange thing for me is this.
As I struggled for my life and struggled to stay afloat, the whole time she was calm and serene, without a worry in the world, calmly riding the
waves, with a smile on her face.
As she rescued me, her demeanour was always calm and serene, not what I would have thought typical of a person saving another, who would
understandably perhaps feel very worried and concerned about seeing another person fighting for their life.
It was as if she was sure I would be okay, she was sure she could get me out of trouble, there was nothing to worry about. She was serene the whole
time. She spotted me in difficulties when the lifeguards did not, and she calmly asked me if I needed help, then saved me.
She saved my life that day, and was serene and calm and unfussed throughout.
I will always be thankful to her. I still think about that day from time to time, about how she calmly saved me, and it does make me wonder.
Particularly when I never saw her again the whole time I was on holiday, or swimming.