The Waterfront - Part 3 - Free Play

As wonderful as my memories of Camp Aharah can be, I also remember the tedium that would arise after a few weeks. Keeping a camp of eighty children running involves a scheduled routine. You have to know where you are going to be and when. For the campers, especially those who came up for only one session, each day was a new adventure. For the staff, it was Capture the Flag night … again. It was the closing campfire … again. It was waterfront period … again.

Boredom can be the mother of invention, and many of our unusual waterfront activities were born out of seeking alternative uses for common equipment. Here are some examples:

The Great Submarine Race –

There were two variations on this canoe race. Our canoes were aluminum boats with a chunk of buoyant Styrofoam built into the bow and the stern. This design meant that, even if you tipped the boat, it would not sink. 

Variation one involved tipping the canoe and letting it fill with water. The full canoe would sit just under the surface of the lake. Paddlers had to sit in the seats of the submerged canoe and then try to paddle back to the beach with their lower halves underwater and their upper halves doing an awkward kayak stroke. The canoe was not at all stable, being designed to float upside-down when swamped. Racers frequently had to reflip and remount when they lost their balance.

The second variation was the official submarine race. This competition also involved swamping the canoes in the middle of the lake, but then they performed a T-rescue with another boat. After many hours of boat duty, I was adept at taking the end of a swamped canoe and pulling it over my rowboat to empty the water. 

The rescued canoes remained capsized for the submarine race with a large air pocket inside. Contestants would swim underneath the canoes and pop up in the air pocket. They would each grab a thwart (if you have forgotten, a thwart is a metal or wooden bar that helps maintain the body shape of a canoe). Once in position, the submarines could race for shore, periodically stopping for someone to peek out from under the canoe to help with navigation.

The Basic Aquajock –

Take a standard life jacket; put your legs through the arm holes and wear it like a bright, orange diaper. It gives perfect buoyancy for all sorts of water sports: water polo, water basketball, and synchronized water dancing. The main drawback of the Aquajock is that the life jacket is designed to keep itself right-side up. Given the opportunity, it will try to flip your legs in the air and dunk your head.

Note the dignity of this young man's Aquajock.
Also, note the matching pink shorts. 
Ah...pastels.  Where would the 1980's man be without you?

One might ask why we simply didn’t wear lifejackets the right way for water sports. That one has obviously not been to summer camp. The Aquajock not only provides a greater range of motion for the upper half, but it also adds a quiet dignity to the waterfront area.

The Reverse Aquajock –

Don your Aquajock as above. Approach the deep water. Dive in head first. Feel the drag.

Diving Competitions –

Thinking of diving, I remember several fancy dive competitions. Over my time at Camp Aharah, there were a few attempts to add waterfront equipment for jumping and diving. For a couple of summers in the early 80s, a small trampoline with a ladder was attached to the blue water platform. In the 90s, the a camp attached an actual diving board to the dock. Both were ideas that seemed like fun at the time but were removed after several injuries.

Our best diving competitions involved finding the most creative way to fall into the deep water. There were twists, flips, the Nestea plunge, silly walks, and pratfalls. My favorite was the sumo dive. Walk to the edge. Assume the sumo stance. Rock back and forth, stamping one foot and then the other. Fall in with a grunt.

       

The Day of the Banana Hammocks –

In the summer of 1991, one of the male counselors wore a Speedo bathing suit to every waterfront period. It turned out that he had several of the tight suits. Most of us wore more practical trunks, which were more forgiving. One day, all the male staff members borrowed a pair and reported for duty. It was not pretty. It was not necessary. It never happened again. Yet, I felt somehow I would be remiss letting it slip into the mists of time.