Happy new year! It’s also the three-year anniversary of this project, which means I’m about to turn 44. I closed out the year with a swim at–where else?–Riverbank. Here we are bright and early yesterday morning.
Location: Skanstull, Stockholm
Configuration: Indoor 50 x 25- and 25 x 25-meter pools with lots and lots of lanes. More pools outdoors that I didn’t swim in.
Fee: 90 kronor for a regular visit, lots more for Eurogames meet entry
Please accept my apology for taking so long–three months!–to write about your wonders. You have so much to offer. If only we had met under different circumstance, it would have been magical. Unfortunately, Eurogames got in our way.
It’s awesome that the tradition of swimming on your site goes back to the closed waterworks in the 1920s, although I wish there were more traces left from those days. Still, I get that the Swedish national team needed a cutting-edge training facility–and how exciting was it that your very own Sarah Sjöström was off in China breaking world records during our visit?! (Do your pros really like the water that warm? It sure got hot with the afternoon and then evening sun streaming in.)
I was psyched to beat some of my times from Iceland ever so slightly during the three-day competition. True, I was wearing a $190 technical suit thanks to my team’s new sponsorship deal with Speedo, but I’m sure your infinity gutters, deep water, and normal ceiling played a role.
The tiered showers in the locker room are a great idea–people’s heights vary, so why shouldn’t shower heights vary, too? I also really enjoyed the water slides, once they reopened after some undisclosed incident the first day. The split clock added a whole new dimension to our sliding. Try as I might, I could not break 9 seconds to match my teammates’ times on the fastest slide. Perhaps my technical suit was not optimized for this purpose?
How about the outdoor pools? I only made it as far as the lawn, since we’d been told that our meet entry did not cover the outdoor part of the complex and I was all pooled out anyway. The natives sure seemed to enjoy themselves out there–and the warm, sunny weather that came with us to Stockholm.
Of course, the competition was fierce. Our TNYA contingent alone was more than 80 swimmers, divers, and water polo players strong. The combination of many of my favorite people traveling to one my favorite places to participate in one of my favorite activities seemed like a guaranteed success.
The lead-up to Eurogames–a major international competition that required signup months in advance and significant travel by most participants–should have given me pause. First the meet was going to be four days, then it switched to three. The registration site flummoxed some of my very intelligent teammates and me. (In fact, I almost got pulled from a couple events due to not having seed times with my entries. I thought I had entered times, mind you, and would have gladly provided them had anyone asked in the intervening months.) Important details such as the event schedule were scant and poorly communicated. All along, though, I reassured myself that everything would go off without a hitch in ever-so-organized Sweden. How organized? This is a place where all the bus stations have countdown clocks and the grocery store check-out conveyors are split by a chute so that a customer who is slow to gather her wares does not impede the person behind her in line. For example.
Things went downhill as the meet drew near. Just a couple days before the start, the meet director realized that the time allocated was impossibly short given the number of competitors. How this was not clear from the data the moment registration closed is beyond me. The “solution” at this late stage was to drop the slowest and no-time entrants from all events and to limit options for distance freestyle swimmers such as myself. Many participants and teams raised a ruckus about these changes, given the long tradition of inclusion in our competitions, and so the schedule was changed yet again and all entrants were reinstated. The catch was that the meet would run loooong, a situation exacerbated by failure to implement various efficiencies such as fly-over starts. Also, the reconfigured schedule had the 800 and 1500 back-to-back. I decided that would be too much at the end of a loooong day so did just the 1500 with the consolation that my 800 split would be recorded. As far as I can tell, that did not happen.
In a different setting–a developing nation, or a culture less known for precision–I would have taken it all in stride. However, because I hold Sweden to such a high standard, because I wanted more free time to enjoy the rest of the city, and because 80 of my friends were watching and griping, the failures large and small were major disappointments.
But, like I said, you’re a nice pool. With a few months’ perspective, I’m clearly still frustrated that the experience could have been even better, but those are the breaks. There were plenty of highlights, and I’m very, very glad to have had the excuse to check out some new water, swim in a technical suit, and visit some old friends and old haunts along with one of Stockholm’s newest museums.
Next time, I’ll make sure that we have more quality time together (not quantity). Until then, thanks for listening.
Location: Vasastan, Stockholm
Configuration: 4 striped 25-meter lanes
Fee: 90 kronor, just under $11 at the current, strong exchange rate
The day before the meet, I was overdue for some pool time. Following the recommendation of a local, I wandered into a hilly park in central Stockholm for 7:00 p.m. lap swimming at Vanadisbadet.
The time was the same as night owl lap swimming in Manhattan, but that was about the only similarity. There was no drama at the transition time from open swim to laps, and the existence of both lockers and lifeguards was subtle if they were in fact there at all. Remarkably, even in this Nordic climate, the pool has a much longer season than New York’s outdoor pools, which closed last Monday even though our summer heat continues. (Yes, I am whining.) Vanadisbadet’s season runs from May 1 until September 15, and lap swimming–“motion” or exercise swimming–is offered daily from 7:00 to 10:00 a.m. and 7:00 to 8:00 pm.
Like so many of my favorite pools, this one dates to the 1930s, 1938 to be precise. Stockholm’s first outdoor electrically heated pool, Vanadis takes its name from its host park, named for the goddess of fertility, also known as Freja. A popular swim place for decades, it closed in 2007. Various plans were floated in the years that followed, but ultimately a simple renovation prevailed, and the pool reopened for the 2014 season. The Google Earth view led me to expect water slides, however, that must be an older picture because they are not there.
What is there? Two smaller pools in addition to the lap pool, all about the same warmish temperature; beautiful outcroppings from a former quarry; lounge chairs for rent; a café; poolside showers aplenty; and great views over the city. The evening sun made long shadows across the deck.
My swim was lovely. The few other people who swam in my lane all kept a good pace and showed proper pool etiquette. I stretched out about a mile and decided that was enough, given the upcoming early morning starting the first of three days of the meet.
If you make a visit, I highly recommend also stopping at the nearby Stadsbibliotek or City Library (1928), a masterpiece by the architect Gunnar Asplund. Its gradually sloping entry, outside and in, transports you into a veritable shrine to books. It was also very exciting to find a room devoted to mysteries, with all of my favorite Swedish authors in their native language.
Swedish swims #2 and #3 were in Lake Siljan, the heart of Sweden’s heartland, Dalarna. The country’s seventh-largest lake, Siljan is a vision in blue surrounded by red houses, purple roads, golden fields, and green hills, punctuated by flowery maypoles and flag poles with blue and yellow streamers, and known for craftsmen who carve and paint those iconic Swedish horses. It’s both simple and stunning. In high school, I spent a summer in the idyllic lakeside town of Siljansnäs, so returning here took me even farther down memory lane. Everything was just as I remembered, except perhaps the trees being a little bigger.
A three-hour train ride northwest from Stockholm whisked me into this beautiful countryside for the weekend. I slipped back into life in the same house I’d stayed in 27 years ago, now occupied by my host family’s youngest daughter and her wonderful husband, daughters, and dog. “My” room had a view of the lake just down the way out the back.
The rest of the family is scattered around the small town, and after dinner one night the middle sister, her two boys, and I made for the lake. Everyone had been complaining that there’d only been about five days of summer–or was it three?–so a post-downpour clearing was excuse enough to go out, never mind the chilly air.
We rolled down a dirt road to a wooded beach at the east side of town and plunged in. The water was comfortable, and the sinking sun made long shadows and dark reflections. An island in the sun a couple hundred yards off shore was all the motivation I needed for a quick out-and-back swim.
The next night, I walked down the street to a boat launch. We’d thought about swimming there the night before, but it was full of geese who didn’t seem to want company. They were gone by the second night, so I had the water all to myself–and once again I headed for an island. The water was quite shallow, so reeds brushed up against me most of the way. The shallowness explains something I’ve seen in the winter, namely, drivers taking a shortcut across the ice!
Looking back at the town from the water was the opposite of the postcard view I’ve seen so many times: blue expanse in the foreground, then fields dotted by red houses with white trim, trees, church, and hill rising in the distance. (Perhaps I should apologize here for the lack of pictures owing to my camera giving up the ghost on day 2 in Stockholm, and thank those who kindly shared their images with me.)
Both of these swims took place in a relatively tiny pocket of the lake created by the näs–“nose,” or isthmus–sticking into the big, irregularly shaped lake. It’s wonderful to be able to simply walk down the street and hop in, and to know that miles and miles more of lake are there for the swimming. It’s not quite right to say that Swedes take access to nature for granted. Rather, it’s unfathomable to them that they wouldn’t have it. The Swedish tradition of allemansrätt gives all comers access to almost all the land and the water in the country for reasonable recreational use. In other words, of course you can walk down the street and hop in the lake on a beautiful summer evening!
My big swim adventure of the year was a trip to Sweden. The same meet that took me to Iceland three years ago was held in Stockholm on August 5-7, so 80 of my closest teammates and I jetted off across the Atlantic to represent.
I spent my junior year of college in Stockholm and was very excited to return to this beautiful city where I learned to love beer, subways, and cultural activities on a budget. My joie de vivre in Sweden’s capital led directly to me settling in New York, and many interests that first emerged there are still important to me nearly a quarter century later.
Swimming, however, took a backseat that year–save for a few lap sessions at a nondescript indoor pool and occasional dunks in the Baltic near the university. I had some make-up swimming to do on this return visit, not to mention catching up with friends and checking out new attractions such as ABBA The Museum. It would be a full itinerary.
Janet and I traveled from the U.S. together, schlepping our foul-weather gear for the cool, rainy week that was forecast. Our first day, cold rain came and went several times. The next day dawned clear and comfortable, encouraging us to visit an open water swim spot that locals had recommended.
Stockholm is full of open water swim spots, mind you. An island city bordered by an almost endless archipelago, Stockholm sits at the junction of lake and sea. The water is clean and accessible, and there are beaches all over town. There are also boats everywhere, except at this freshwater lake in a nature preserve in the southern part of the city.
Hellasgården, right along a bike path or a short bus ride from downtown, turned out to be a swimmer’s paradise. Large, wooden docks in the sun, bathrooms with running water, a café, waterfront saunas, and a sprinkling of islands–what more could you want? The water in Källtorp lake was exactly the right temperature. I swam out past three islands–a bird sanctuary, a naturist’s beach–and over to a waterfront house before spending at least as long stretched out on the dock. A pod of triathletes in wetsuits was out when we got there, but at times during our stay there was no one else in the water.
Just like at Brighton Beach, swimmers congregate here year-round, only at this lake they need a pump to keep a patch from freezing. Should you have enough swimming and sunning, there are a few other activities you might do instead: beach volleyball, mini golf, running, mountain biking, tennis, boule, orienteering, and an outdoor collection of exercise machines that looked like torture devices. No time for navel-gazing here! Swimming is free of charge, but there is a fee for the sauna and other indoor facilities.
We thoroughly enjoyed our morning swim–the perfect way to work through jet lag and limber up for the challenges ahead.
Configuration: 6 striped 50-foot “lanes”
I never expected to like the Tony Dapolito Outdoor Pool. Known for being short and crowded, the pool attracted my visit two Fridays ago solely by virtue of its participation in the city’s Early Bird lap swim program–and only after I’d exhausted the rest of the list.
I was in for a pleasant surprise: I thoroughly enjoyed my swim, the company, and the sense of a New York from yesteryear. Tucked so snugly in to a Greenwich Village block that it almost feels like a backyard pool, Dapolito is an old school treasure. Despite its location in one of New York’s most desirable neighborhoods, there’s nothing fancy or pretentious about it. What’s more, I felt like a youngster among the small crowd of chlorine addicts.
Lap swimmers swim the short way across, each in his or her own invisible “lane,” gazing upon the 1987 Keith Haring mural at entry and when resting. I loved the colors and sense of whimsy in this large work along the western edge. As the morning progressed, the sun lit up splotches and eventually the whole thing.
Ellen–who swims here every morning and then hits Asser Levy at the end of the day–was my Dapolito mensch, providing encouragement and patient answers to my countless questions in the week leading up to the swim. She advised arriving well before 7:00 a.m., wearing my swim suit under clothes that can be ripped off in an instant, tucking my swim cap into my top, and nonchalantly hustling through the locker rooms and out to the desk once the doors open. I followed her instructions to a T
The rat race, as she calls it, is for a spot in one of the 6 black-line-marked “lanes,” which you can either swim on top of or in between, meaning there are about 13 of these highly desirable slots. (If this sounds like a recipe for collisions, it is.) Those not early or quick enough can swim sans black lines in the shallow end of the pool or across the diving well if there is enough demand. That’s right, this is one of the few city pools that still has diving.
We waited about 20 minutes out front before the pool opened. It was nice to catch up with Ellen and also meet the reigning champion of NYC lap swimming. My stress from the hustle dissipated a few laps in–yes, I got a spot among the black lines, with belated apologies to any regular I may have displaced–when I realized how fun it was to rack up laps at such a clip. Dapolito is a great place to work on turns and streamlining, since you have so many opportunities to push off the wall. I got down to seven strokes per length and knocked off 200 laps in what seemed like no time.
Although it’s tiny, this pool has WPA origins just like many of my favorite behemoths. Its older, indoor sibling closes for the summer season, but all visitors get to pay their respects and admire its empty beauty on the walk from the locker room.
I don’t find myself in Greenwich Village very often, but if I’m down there again at the right time I would definitely return to this charmer.
Configuration: 8 lanes x 50 meters
Fee: $20 for special TNYA workout
Inspiring. There’s no better word to describe this 50-meter, indoor pool encapsulated within a soaring, light-filled natatorium. Inspiring enough to entice me to swim here on the first day of NYC’s outdoor pool season.
In six weeks, 80-something of my teammates and I will be competing in a long-course meet in Stockholm, Sweden. To help prepare, we got a few lanes here at the APEX for a distance workout. Adding to my already considerable enthusiasm–for both meet and pool–the flags and lane lines sported Swedish colors.
Lehman College’s 1994 fitness center was designed by Rafael Viñoly. His firm is also responsible for the John Jay College pool and the building in which I spend my workdays, both places I’m very fond of despite their flaws. I have a vague recollection of volunteering at a meet at the APEX in my early days with TNYA, but I hadn’t gotten in the water and hadn’t ever returned, so this was a bona fide new pool for me. Everything was good: wide lanes, comfortable temperature, good light, spacious locker rooms, an array of warm showers, and even a sauna if I’d wanted to indulge. My only quibbles are that the lane line didn’t tighten sufficiently (despite the efforts of the lifeguards) and there was no T on the bulkhead in the deep end, meaning your arrival at the wall could be a surprise.
The building is lovely as well, arcing over the considerable facilities and sloping into the rest of the campus, communicating at once a sense of serenity and possibility. Indeed, possibilities beyond swimming include diving (1-meter and 3-meter), basketball, volleyball, running, dancing, racquetball, and plenty more.
Its opening coincided with a small wave of 50-meter pools in New York, the others being Manhattan’s Asphalt Green George Delacorte Olympic Pool and the Riverbank State Park indoor pool, and it remains a home for top-level training and competition. Membership is available to the public at a reasonable price, with steep discounts for CUNY students and employees. Rumor has it that TNYA will return as well. I hope so–this one is worth traveling for, even without international travels looming.
New York City’s outdoor pools open on Saturday. I’m looking forward to many of the same treats as last summer: home base at Thomas Jefferson Park Pool, omnipresent lap lanes and weekend food trucks in Red Hook, occasional social swims at Lasker Pool in Central Park, which was green earlier in the week but is enticingly blue now. I prefer early bird lap swim (starting July 6, 2015), and at other times I triple check that I have my lock so as to not get turned away by the pool staff. I can’t stress enough the importance of adhering to the Parks pool rules.
So what’s new this season? A new way to get to Highbridge Park Pool, for one. New York City’s oldest bridge–built as an aqueduct in the mid-nineteenth century–the High Bridge is also the newest byway for pedestrians and cyclists, having just reopened after being off limits for more than 40 years. It’s beautiful and sure to help many Bronxites get to the pool in Manhattan. I’ve been turned away at Highbridge Park Pool due to arriving too close to closing time, and in fact I was also shooed off the bridge before closing time the other night, but I’ll try again this summer. I at least managed to visit the splashy Splash House (and meet the rec center’s orange tabby mouser-in-chief) during Open House New York last fall.
I thought we might have a longer pool season to celebrate, but it’s looking like just the beach season will be extended until mid-September. The beaches already open more than a month before the pools, so this change heightens the disparity. It’s too bad. I’ve certainly been known to swim at “closed” beaches, but a drained pool is a no-go.
Meanwhile, pools have been in the news of late due to a yet another racially charged, overpoliced situation in Texas. Jeff Wiltse’s Contested Waters documents the changing norms around pool use and shows how pool segregation became completely commonplace, setting the stage for exactly this type of incident. One of this blog’s followers also recommends a children’s book relating to pool discrimination experienced by Olympic gold medalist Sammy Lee, Sixteen Years in Sixteen Seconds, and I plan to check that out.
Mindful of this troubled history and the contemporary situation, what can we do to ensure that pools are welcoming to all? Use them! While there, be sure to thank the staff, politely heed the regulations (provided they are reasonable and fairly enforced), and swim with, play with, and chat with people whose skin color is different from your own.
The 50-year-old International Swimming Hall of Fame has long been a must for any visit to Fort Lauderdale. Aquatics are on a pedestal in this collection that is part historic, part fine art, and part kitsch. John and I explored the museum the day after his birthday swim.
There are many points of entry to the collections. Whether you are interested in competition and records across all aquatics disciplines, swim technology and gear, civil rights, gender equality, swim history, notable figures, fine art, or memorabilia, you will find plenty to enjoy here. One of my favorite displays includes Gertrude Ederle’s self-fashioned bikini and memorabilia from her return to New York after her record-breaking swim across the English Channel. Videos of great moments in Olympic competition are always fun to watch, too.
If I were to make any suggestions, it would be to add modernizations such as video touch screens and an interactive database of Hall of Fame inductees, especially to engage with all the young swimmers who find their way here. A bit more selectivity in what makes it onto display would also help. (USMS pin collection: I’d nix you.) Finally, the “international” angle feels half-baked. Why not be an unabashed booster of U.S. swimming?
Unfortunately, Fort Lauderdale has become disenamored of this trove, so the Hall is being wooed across the country to Santa Clara, California, where it may set up in temporary quarters as soon as this summer. During my visit back in March, it seemed that a decision on when to pull the plug was imminent, but nothing is set as of yet, and there are still some working to keep the collection in Fort Lauderdale. The loss would be not just Florida’s but the whole East Coast’s, as the balance of power in swimming tips ever westward.
Configuration: 2 50-meter pools, one set up long course with 10 lanes, the other short course (25) yards with 20 lanes
Fee: $5 nonresident day pass
Fort Lauderdale is where I crossed the line from recreational pool user to addict. It took multiple exposures for the addiction to set in, and now the responsible pools are endangered, a troublesome development for this junkie.
My first visit here was inauspicious. It was January 1993, and my college team drove down in a van from Connecticut, leaving behind our new 50-meter indoor pool to cram workouts into a single lane alongside dozens of other northeastern teams. We stayed somewhere inland, equally crowded, and had to jog to and from the pool complex. I don’t remember much else about the trip except toasting my 21st birthday at the Elbo Room. Driving, running, cramped swim conditions, and an infamous beach bar–not much to like there.
Fort Lauderdale redeemed itself on my second visit, in 2007, for my team’s annual Swim Camp. Wisely avoiding the crush of collegiate teams, TNYA plans its camp for early spring, when the cold in New York has gone on far too long and Florida is all but guaranteed to be warm and sunny. We took over a full pool for some workouts and joined in with the Fort Lauderdale team for others, practicing twice per day and leaving ample time for eating, socializing, and lazing on the beach. It was bliss, solidifying many friendships and setting me up for a great summer of open water. Ever since then, pretty much all I’ve wanted to do is swim outdoors.
The next year was more of the same, but with three practices a day since my addiction had festered and I was training for the Manhattan swim. Two other people on the trip were, too, and we’d have a whole pool to ourselves as the sun came up over the ocean, silhouetting the palm trees visible out front. I was so focused that I doubt I traveled more than a quarter-mile from the pool except during an ocean swim. The pool, the smoothie place, the pool, the breakfast place, the beach, the pool, the Greek place, repeat.
Since then, my schedule has unfortunately precluded a repeat trip with TNYA. One year, Piezy and I found a different camp at a different pool that worked with our schedules, so we spent a week swimming and biking through other parts of Fort Lauderdale with some beach visits thrown in. Once again, a fantastic trip. Other years, I’ve gone farther afield in search of fixes–Walnut Creek, Panama City, Australia–but have always craved a return to the simple, swim-centric life in Fort Lauderdale.
The place that facilitated my obsession–then the Swimming Hall of Fame, now the Fort Lauderdale Aquatic Complex–is on life support. As I write, TNYA’s Swim Camp is taking place in Miami for the first time due to constant threats of closure at Fort Lauderdale. Once again, the timing wasn’t good for me anyway, so I was extra glad to make a trip two weekends ago for my friend John’s birthday. He and I have shared many swim and bike adventures, but his job has taken him out of New York, and I was glad to have the chance to catch up.
With that long-winded lead-up, let me tell you about the pools. Not since Stanford had I seen so much sparkling pool water. The complex has two deep-water 50-meter lap pools perpendicular to each other with a diving pool off the end to the west (in the foreground, above). Although I’ve seen different configurations previously, the present lane setup is all east-west: short-course yards in one pool and long-course meters in the other. Visible from the whole complex, not to mention from the Intracoastal Waterway and the Las Olas Bridge, is a gigantic digital clock, perfectly synched with smaller digital clocks at strategic poolside locations. A giant set of bleachers along the north side makes clear that competitions here can draw an audience, however, the bleachers were condemned in 2011 and are blocked off.
John chose to celebrate his entry into Club 40 by swimming for four-plus hours under the blazing sun in the west pool. He churned out 40 reps of 400 long-course meters while I did a mix of 350s and 300s on the same interval. This being Florida, we each had our own lane the entire time, and when John’s sister and another friend joined us, they got their own lanes. In between reps, I was able to watch some synchro diving practice over yonder.
Approaching 50 years old, the pool has some rough patches. Its lanes are narrow by today’s standards, and there are no infinity gutters, super-high dive towers, or other now-common enhancements. As I tired, I actually hallucinated that some of the blobs of exposed concrete on the bottom were creatures swimming into my lane. (I thought I hallucinated the smell of donuts, too, but that turned out to be legit, wafting over from brunch at the restaurant next door.) I am unsure of the purpose of the weighted cones lurking underwater. John felt currents from the vents, and I’d like to be able to blame them for my occasional run-ins with the lane line, but it’s more likely that faulty technique and a propensity to circle swim were to blame.
The next day we returned for a less taxing swim, and I opted for the other pool for the sake of this blog. It is closer to the street and set up with an endless array of lanes the short, 25-yard way across. The water was ever so slightly cooler in that one, although it’s supposed to be the other way around. Not only did I have my own lane, but I was several lanes away from any other swimmer.
After both swims, I luxuriated in the on-deck shower and then changed in the spacious locker rooms. Though worn, the rows of lockers, sinks, and showers attest to the numbers of swimmers this place can support.
How did this pool paradise come about? Its predecessor was the 50-meter Las Olas Beach and Casino Pool, saltwater, built in 1928 a a short distance north. Soon discovered by northern swim coaches, it became such a popular training and competition destination that it is credited with (or blamed for) starting the Spring Break phenomenon. In the 1960s, that pool was demolished to make way for new development, so a new pool and swim museum were built on nearby public land/infill. The complex expanded to its current configuration in the early 1990s with the second training pool and distinctive, wave-shaped edifice added then. Originally run together as the nonprofit International Swimming Hall of Fame, the pools are now managed by the municipality while the museum remains distinct. (More on the museum in a future post, and in the meantime see its comprehensive history of the complex.)
The one-time prominence of the facility is clear–see the record board boasting the likes of Michael Phelps and Natalie Coughlin, picture the bleachers filled with crowds, the results on display on the giant clock, the light towers keeping the action going long after dark. However, its age is apparent, too. I love that the spots in Fort Lauderdale I got to know in 2007 are almost all still alive, but the reality is that the city and southern Florida have changed tremendously since the 1960s and even since the 2000s. Yachting has become a mega business, and 50-meter pools are no longer a commodity. There is a contingent that would love to get out of the pool business and have a giant parking lot and expanded marina instead.
Gloom-and-doom predictions of closure have grown stronger the past few years. Everyone agrees that new construction will be expensive, but there are gaping differences of opinion regarding what exactly should be constructed, how much it will cost, how much the city can afford, and whether the deed requires a pool on site. (Diving pool on top of parking garage, anyone?) The museum, meanwhile, has found a welcoming new home in Santa Clara, California, but its moving date remains elusive. When John and I visited, there was much anticipation of a meeting that was scheduled for the day after I left, however, I can’t seem to find any reports of the outcome.
All this to say, you should probably visit the pool soon. No matter how nice any replacement pool may be, it won’t have the authenticity of the place that made me the addict I am today.