I read with interest the recent submission to these pages by Stuart Morris (Swimming off Chesil – July 4) and, although he is a person I hold in the highest regard, I cannot agree with him over the suitability of Chesil as an ideal location at which to learn to swim . . . I think perhaps my views have been tainted by the experiences of my youth.

Sixty years ago I was a pupil at the Cliff School in Clovens Road, Portland, long before the swimming pool was even considered.

As a special treat we were occasionally taken for a dip.

We went in crocodile fashion to walk down the pathway from the school to Chesil Cove. Down in the Cove, exposed to the elements, we hobbled around with bruised toes trying our best to retain some balance whilst slipping into our swimwear.

We tried to keep our clothes/uniform above the high water mark for later. Once the 20 or more shivering white bodies were just about ready the solitary teacher, still fully clothed, with his collar turned up against the wind, hands in his pockets and always a safe distance from anything remotely wet would give his warm words of advice and safety lecture . . . ‘Right, off you go then’. We tentatively dipped our toes, it was always cold.

The braver soules went further and the water reached their knees. How we never lost anybody still amazes me.

I can remember nobody who could swim – or perhaps they just weren’t allowed to, I don’t know.

All too soon the fun was over and we were called to dry land. Several cases of hypothermia, salt water inhalation and panic were allowed to run their course.

It was chaotic, retaining some semblance of modesty (even at that age) whilst trying also to get clothes back on over cold, damp, clammy skin was tricky.

We must have got there in the end before we were cheerfully marched back up the cliff path to school where we sat in our damp clothes for the rest of the day.

I was never sure of the purpose of the exercise. There did not ever seem to be any advice on learning to swim – perhaps for some of the kids it was their only bath.. Perhaps it was an experimental process to reduce class numbers. Strangely, however, it was something that most of us looked forward to – simple pleasures.

Roger Mutch
Weymouth