A Swim Club Worth Fighting For

“What the hell is going on with the aquatic centre?” A friend asked during a recent visit to Toronto. “It doesn’t make any sense!”

The friend, a city planner who specializes in growth forecasting, was reacting to the news that Vancouver city council voted to fund the replacement of the Vancouver Aquatic Centre’s 50-metre pool with an eight-lane 25-metre pool and “lazy river,” a feature part of a new planned section of the pool for teaching and leisure. The renovation will require the pool’s closure in 2026 for at least three years.

As a member of the English Bay Swim Club, the news marked the end of several months of emotional purgatory that felt familiar, if not disappointing; the final vote to cut the pool in half arrived not so much a kick to the gut as a prolonged, forgone conclusion. After all, from its inception in 1982, English Bay Swim Club has had to compete for space and recognition.

During the HIV/AIDS crisis, the club provided a lifeline to men living with HIV, some of whom credit the club for their survival. In 1990, the Vancouver Aquatic Centre hosted the swimming competition during the 1990 Gay Games, an event that transformed Vancouver and the queer community.

Council’s decision takes the swim club back where it started 43 years ago.

I’d hoped the resounding rebuke of the direction Vancouver is going, delivered to council in April’s by-election, might sway council to honour the priorities of the community: people cherish the aquatic centre, home to the only 50-metre indoor competition pool downtown.

Dividing it into two smaller pools will severely limit the ability for swim clubs to operate, if not exile them from the city altogether.

The only other 50-metre indoor pool is at Hillcrest Community Centre. Hillcrest has eight designated 25-metre swim lanes, and is only open for 50-metre swimming in the mornings. Depending on the time of day, two to four lanes are rented to clubs and those lanes are already fully committed.

At the aquatic centre, English Bay Swim Club and the Canadian Dolphin Swim Club rent between 10 to 12 lanes at the same time. To accommodate the overflow, Hillcrest will have to either decrease the number of public swim lanes or rent fewer lanes to more clubs. The lanes at Hillcrest are also narrower: 1.6 metres to the aquatic centre’s two-metre lanes.

The rest of the pools in Vancouver are too small to support both swim clubs and public swimming.

Unlike public swim lanes, swim clubs assign swimmers of the same skill level to the same lane. They provide “development lanes” to offer novice swimmers the space to improve their stroke without being bulldozed by aggressive swimmers or trapped behind leisure swimmers in the wrong lane. To throw those swimmers in lanes with faster, more accomplished swimmers dooms them, and the club, to failure.

A welcoming space

An eyesore to some, prime real estate to developers, the Vancouver Aquatic Centre is a 50-year-old brutalist concrete building built into the side of the hill at Sunset Beach in Vancouver’s West End, hidden from the waterfront by trees.

Despite its crumbling facade, it’s still a great place to swim, and it’s a vital gathering place for many.

The ‘70s-inspired mural in the hall leading to the changerooms evokes memories of ParticipACTION badges from grade school. The skylight floods the space with sunlight in summer and winter.

At any given time, the aquatic centre is home to swim meets, swim clubs, water polo clubs, pool hockey clubs. All this on top of aquafit classes, swimming lessons, length swimming, and of course, spaces for leisure.

Swim clubs foster community through a commitment to personal improvement. We high-five each other when we meet our times and suggest improvements to our technique that can only be seen from underwater. Swim clubs teach you how to share space with others and respect their boundaries.

Through lane rentals, swim clubs offer a regular revenue stream to the pool. They might not generate Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour dollars, but they’re sustainable and they make people happy. They also provide decent employment to coaches. At the height of the season, English Bay Swim Club alone rents six 25-metre lanes for four practices during the week and one on Sunday, and three 50-metre lanes on Saturdays.

As of today, English Bay Swim Club is 162 members strong. The club reflects Vancouver: its swimmers are queer and straight; young and old, colourblind and welcoming to all gender identities.

Despite limited funds, the club is committed to making masters swimming affordable and accessible. If you are like myself — active, slightly overweight, middle-aged(ish) and have never swum competitively — this club is for you.

I first swam with English Bay Swim Club when I turned 50. At the time, the club offered a 10-week Swimming 101 course at a reasonable price of $100. When I started, my stroke was like the turbine on a riverboat, not so much propelling myself through the water as chomping at it. These days I glide through the pool like a canoe.

As I swim towards 60, I can complete a 100-metre individual medley — something I couldn’t do at 30. Thanks to my training with the club, I can swim farther with less energy. When I start to fatigue, I can hear my coach shout, “Show me the drama!” prompting me to correct my stroke.

As a gay man of a certain age, English Bay Swim Club provides me with an alternative to the bars and those depressing dating apps. It gets me out of the house three times a week; exposes me to cool straight guys who are secure enough in their masculinity they can hang out with a gay guy in a speedo. This is what equality looks like. This is what English Bay Swim Club has been striving towards.

The prospect of finding another pool that can accommodate our club’s modest needs keeps me up at night. As any swimmer will tell you, Vancouver’s pools are at capacity.

But then I remind myself how I’ve personally benefited from the work the club’s founders set in motion in 1982 and the joy it’s brought me. This is a club worth preserving.