Man from Atlantis. Oh yeah...
When I was about nine, and my Dad was between jobs abroad, he did a stint at the local holiday camp. One of the perks was that family members could use the facilities as they pleased, and for free, so one Sunday he took me and my sister to the site, and we went swimming.

The pool was legendary within the town, for, unlike the municipal pool, this one wasn't shaped like a mushroom, and had a diving board. Olympic stuff or what, huh? Pretty damned exotic for a small market town near the Scottish border rhyming with Eric. Being near the start of the season, the pool was fairly deserted apart from a quite large bloke using the diving board, and as a result, we had the pool pretty much to ourselves.

Being young, and with delusions of Man from Atlantis grandeur, I decided to see how far I could swim underwater. Much to my surprise, after a couple of practice lengths, I managed to get most of the distance of the 20 metre pool, although, due to the liberal dose of chlorine the attendants insisted on using, I couldn't keep my eyes open underwater and didn't have any goggles with me.

Unfortunately, due to being unable to see where my fish-like skills were taking me, I surfaced, spluttering for air and rubbing my eyes to get the chlorine away from them, right under the diving board...

Being clattered on the head by a diving board as you pop to the surface like a cork, just at the moment a fat bloke in speedos decides to try an epic dive of gusset-soaking proportions is not something I'd recommend in a hurry.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 29 Jul 2010, 21:01, Reply)