Rivers of Life?
ECG Bulletin January 2024
A lifetime of dedication to wild swimming led to seeking and discovering places all over the world. The sum of this work is contained within the volume 2000 Wild Swims. At the ECG’s 2023 Distinguished Guest Lecture Event, Rob Fryer shared the history of this passion, the source of it in his own life and some of the wonders he experienced whilst searching for places to enjoy. This highlights the importance of protecting our wild waters to keep them safe from pollution so that the environment and the people enjoying it can be healthy and happy.
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When looking at the programme for the Environmental Chemistry Group’s Distinguished Guest Lecture, I realised that I was the eldest speaker by a few decades. I also felt that this gave me the advantage of first-hand experience of life in “the olden days”. I know people who have learned to swim on their own, without instruction and, whilst I am not as old as my first reference, I do have access to a rubbing of a 1757 engraving which depicts people swimming in a river in times past, though perhaps a minority, showing that people have been swimming in nature for centuries.
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Rubbing of a 1757 engraving depicting people swimming in a river.
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Wild Swimming in the 1950s – 1990s.
I actually learned to swim in a river – the River Cherwell at Oxford – when I attended school in the area. Swimming in the river was the normal thing to do, and the locals would start swimming when the river temperature reached 60°F, yes Fahrenheit (or 15.5°C: at the time, Celsius was known as Centigrade, but nobody used it for measuring the temperature). Swimming would continue for the rest of the summer term, whether the water temperature went up or down.
At this time, it was just “swimming”. The term “wild swimming” would not come about for forty years. It was as natural as going for a walk in the countryside. There were only a few concrete pools and, before the 1960s, they were expensive, so most leisure swimming took place in rivers or the sea. Then, throughout the 1960’s, a large number of concrete swimming pools were built by councils all over the country. They were cheap and warm, but never my first choice. Of course, in cold weather, it is the preference of many to swim in a heated pool, and it is definitely easier to learn to swim in warmer water. However, in my opinion it is never such fun as swimming in natural water, and there is no communion with nature.
You are actually immersing yourself in nature when you swim in the wild. Having learned to swim in a river, rivers have always been my first choice. I swim for the beauty of a site. I am not a particularly good swimmer and can only swim breast-stroke, but I feel that that is the only way to be able to see where you are going and truly take in the visual pleasure of the surroundings.
However, with the advent of so many concrete pools, wild swimming came to be frowned upon. So much so that the Royal Society for the Prevention of Accidents (RoSPA) issued a policy that swimming in rivers and lakes in England was to be discouraged on the basis that the water was persistently too cold and, therefore, dangerous. RoSPA advised numerous councils, public bodies, and the media of this, and the British public adopted the anti-wild swimming message.
I remember being told off if a person saw me swimming in a river. At the time, I just kept quiet. Reflecting on this anti-wild swimming campaign, I now feel that it was a very serious attack on part of our culture. Swimming in rivers has always been “normal”. Walking in the Snowdonia (Eryri) National Park has always been normal, too – but it is also dangerous. I understand that an average of 8 people die walking in Snowdonia every year, yet I cannot imagine that the public would tolerate a policy to actively discourage or ban walking on Snowdon (Yr Wyddfa).
I have come to believe that the difference lay in the commercial interest that exists as a result of people walking and hiking in Snowdonia, which is not so easy to draw from river swimming. River swimming was an easy target for banning. I noted, however, that sea swimming has never been banned nor discouraged. There are far too many seaside towns dependent upon tourism based around beaches. River and lake swimming suffered a downturn from the 1960s onwards such that, whilst it was never illegal, a person would often feel furtive when swimming in rivers or lakes, especially in public view.
I actually learned to swim in a river – the River Cherwell at Oxford – when I attended school in the area. Swimming in the river was the normal thing to do, and the locals would start swimming when the river temperature reached 60°F, yes Fahrenheit (or 15.5°C: at the time, Celsius was known as Centigrade, but nobody used it for measuring the temperature). Swimming would continue for the rest of the summer term, whether the water temperature went up or down.
At this time, it was just “swimming”. The term “wild swimming” would not come about for forty years. It was as natural as going for a walk in the countryside. There were only a few concrete pools and, before the 1960s, they were expensive, so most leisure swimming took place in rivers or the sea. Then, throughout the 1960’s, a large number of concrete swimming pools were built by councils all over the country. They were cheap and warm, but never my first choice. Of course, in cold weather, it is the preference of many to swim in a heated pool, and it is definitely easier to learn to swim in warmer water. However, in my opinion it is never such fun as swimming in natural water, and there is no communion with nature.
You are actually immersing yourself in nature when you swim in the wild. Having learned to swim in a river, rivers have always been my first choice. I swim for the beauty of a site. I am not a particularly good swimmer and can only swim breast-stroke, but I feel that that is the only way to be able to see where you are going and truly take in the visual pleasure of the surroundings.
However, with the advent of so many concrete pools, wild swimming came to be frowned upon. So much so that the Royal Society for the Prevention of Accidents (RoSPA) issued a policy that swimming in rivers and lakes in England was to be discouraged on the basis that the water was persistently too cold and, therefore, dangerous. RoSPA advised numerous councils, public bodies, and the media of this, and the British public adopted the anti-wild swimming message.
I remember being told off if a person saw me swimming in a river. At the time, I just kept quiet. Reflecting on this anti-wild swimming campaign, I now feel that it was a very serious attack on part of our culture. Swimming in rivers has always been “normal”. Walking in the Snowdonia (Eryri) National Park has always been normal, too – but it is also dangerous. I understand that an average of 8 people die walking in Snowdonia every year, yet I cannot imagine that the public would tolerate a policy to actively discourage or ban walking on Snowdon (Yr Wyddfa).
I have come to believe that the difference lay in the commercial interest that exists as a result of people walking and hiking in Snowdonia, which is not so easy to draw from river swimming. River swimming was an easy target for banning. I noted, however, that sea swimming has never been banned nor discouraged. There are far too many seaside towns dependent upon tourism based around beaches. River and lake swimming suffered a downturn from the 1960s onwards such that, whilst it was never illegal, a person would often feel furtive when swimming in rivers or lakes, especially in public view.
Members of Farleigh and District Swimming Club enjoying a swim and paddle in the river.
1999 publication: Waterlog
After nearly 40 years of repression, relief came in 1999. This was the year that Roger Deakin published his book Waterlog. The book was a record of his swims across the British Isles and shone a new light on swimming in natural waters. He coined the phrase “Wild swimming”, which then referred to all swimming in rivers and lakes in the UK, i.e., all of the swimming that RoSPA was seeking to restrict.
Roger Deakin made wild swimming not only acceptable but desirable. Having been unofficially banned and officially discouraged from the activity for so long, the public took to wild swimming with great enthusiasm. “Wild swimming” was a new name and it seemed to be a new idea, though it wasn’t new at all. This turned the clock back to what people had been doing for centuries - paddling and swimming in rivers and lakes for pleasure. Foreign visitors asked me, “Isn’t it just swimming in rivers?” because they had not suffered under decades of a restrictive policy.
Today, “wild swimming” includes swimming in the sea, as well as river and lake swimming in the UK and globally. However, many regard it as swimming in very wild, secluded locations. There is now a huge demand for wild swimming, and it is no longer left largely to “local lads”: people from all social backgrounds now practice swimming, and the bounce back to popularity has been enormous, like the release of a long pent-up spring. However, there is the expectation that our rivers should be clean, just as the air we breathe should be clean. In the face of the overwhelming support for the activity, RoSPA dropped its policy against what had become “wild swimming”.
Wild swimming seems to be a rather green recreation with a low carbon footprint. I cannot, therefore, see any reason to object to it. In fact, I feel that we should be encouraging this practice and ensuring that it is safe.
The wild swimming environment
Recent years have seen significant publication in mass media about sewage and farm pollution of our natural waterways, which is serious because it is so frequent. The sheer volume of pollution makes it a major concern.
Whilst I have not studied significantly the numbers and details of the science of the pollution, I am able to draw upon history. 60 years ago, if you ever drove through the countryside, you needed to stop every 20 miles or so to clean the windscreen, which by that point had been coated with the bodies of numerous dead insects. A device was invented to reduce the number of insects impacting and obscuring the windscreen, but the stops were still required. I admit that I didn’t like having to stop and clean the windscreen, but I am concerned that the complete lack of this problem today does suggest that enormous quantities of insecticide are being sprayed onto the countryside, which must be leaching into our rivers. I’d rather clean my windscreen than swim in insecticide. The contrast with the past is vast and concerning.
With industry, there are flows of pollution and ever-growing populations. The financial pressure on water companies from providing services at minimal cost has seen the demand for wastewater treatment exceed the capacity. This has led to flows of untreated sewage being introduced to our rivers. It is now a major problem, which the other speakers at the DGL event would shed more light upon.
Industrial pollution is not new. It particularly increased during the 18th and 19th century, and the industrial revolution, when many rivers became badly polluted. For instance, the River Biss, near my own home in Trowbridge, was once known for pollution with industrial dyes being flushed into it. My research indicates that swimming there would stain the skin, so bathers emerged a different hue than when they entered during the industrial revolution. For this reason, Trowbridge wild swimmers of the 1930s set up a swimming club on the River Frome 5 miles away at Farleigh Hungerford.
Recent years have seen significant publication in mass media about sewage and farm pollution of our natural waterways, which is serious because it is so frequent. The sheer volume of pollution makes it a major concern.
Whilst I have not studied significantly the numbers and details of the science of the pollution, I am able to draw upon history. 60 years ago, if you ever drove through the countryside, you needed to stop every 20 miles or so to clean the windscreen, which by that point had been coated with the bodies of numerous dead insects. A device was invented to reduce the number of insects impacting and obscuring the windscreen, but the stops were still required. I admit that I didn’t like having to stop and clean the windscreen, but I am concerned that the complete lack of this problem today does suggest that enormous quantities of insecticide are being sprayed onto the countryside, which must be leaching into our rivers. I’d rather clean my windscreen than swim in insecticide. The contrast with the past is vast and concerning.
With industry, there are flows of pollution and ever-growing populations. The financial pressure on water companies from providing services at minimal cost has seen the demand for wastewater treatment exceed the capacity. This has led to flows of untreated sewage being introduced to our rivers. It is now a major problem, which the other speakers at the DGL event would shed more light upon.
Industrial pollution is not new. It particularly increased during the 18th and 19th century, and the industrial revolution, when many rivers became badly polluted. For instance, the River Biss, near my own home in Trowbridge, was once known for pollution with industrial dyes being flushed into it. My research indicates that swimming there would stain the skin, so bathers emerged a different hue than when they entered during the industrial revolution. For this reason, Trowbridge wild swimmers of the 1930s set up a swimming club on the River Frome 5 miles away at Farleigh Hungerford.
Farleigh and District Swimming Club
Before World War II, there were many river swimming clubs. Many supported water polo teams, races, and diving competitions. After the war and, with the advent of the 1960s concrete pools, all of these clubs except for Farleigh Hungerford opted to “go soft”, as it were. A major factor was that the sport governing bodies made the use of concrete pools compulsory for competitions.
Farleigh Hungerford were set apart, giving up their water polo team and opting to continue as an entirely recreational club. This was possibly the only club to do so and is one of the longest standing river swimming clubs in the world. It now has approximately 5,000 members – that is 5,000 people enjoying a river.
I have chaired this club – the Farleigh and District Swimming Club – for 20 years, and am proud that it is, at last, financially strong. Of course, a club is not required to facilitate swimming in a river. However, a club can allow access to the river without encountering cattle in the adjacent field or angry fishers on the bank, whilst offering steps to the water, as well as showers and toilets when required. The Farleigh and District Swimming Club is now thriving with strong support, and has even repaired its weir.
Before World War II, there were many river swimming clubs. Many supported water polo teams, races, and diving competitions. After the war and, with the advent of the 1960s concrete pools, all of these clubs except for Farleigh Hungerford opted to “go soft”, as it were. A major factor was that the sport governing bodies made the use of concrete pools compulsory for competitions.
Farleigh Hungerford were set apart, giving up their water polo team and opting to continue as an entirely recreational club. This was possibly the only club to do so and is one of the longest standing river swimming clubs in the world. It now has approximately 5,000 members – that is 5,000 people enjoying a river.
I have chaired this club – the Farleigh and District Swimming Club – for 20 years, and am proud that it is, at last, financially strong. Of course, a club is not required to facilitate swimming in a river. However, a club can allow access to the river without encountering cattle in the adjacent field or angry fishers on the bank, whilst offering steps to the water, as well as showers and toilets when required. The Farleigh and District Swimming Club is now thriving with strong support, and has even repaired its weir.
2000 Wild Swims
I believe a factor in the reason that I was asked to speak at the ECG’s 2023 DGL event is that I have written what may be the most comprehensive wild swimming guide available – 2000 Wild Swims. This has taken me 20 years to achieve, during which time, I had a lot of fun. Based on this experience, I seem to have developed a natural ability for finding new wild swimming locations. It has also been interesting to me to learn how some nations make substantial efforts to accommodate wild swimmers.
For example, on the A-138 road between Ainsa and Bielsa, along the edge of Rio Cinca in Spain, there are 7 lay-bys for parking. Each lay-by has a wooden staircase leading down to the stoney riverbank beside the road, from where people are able to access the river and swim during the summer. I cannot envisage any UK council ever building 7 lay-bys for wild swimmers, let alone a staircase from each one to allow access for wild swimming. However, I do hope that such provision will be made for wild swimming in the UK during my lifetime - and that I am able to find it. This is a superb example of what can be done and, of course, the river does not see significant pollution exposure.
Wild swimming is associated to quality of life, and I don’t imagine that anyone is against improving that. I passionately believe that quality of life is connected to water quality and evidence would support this.
I believe a factor in the reason that I was asked to speak at the ECG’s 2023 DGL event is that I have written what may be the most comprehensive wild swimming guide available – 2000 Wild Swims. This has taken me 20 years to achieve, during which time, I had a lot of fun. Based on this experience, I seem to have developed a natural ability for finding new wild swimming locations. It has also been interesting to me to learn how some nations make substantial efforts to accommodate wild swimmers.
For example, on the A-138 road between Ainsa and Bielsa, along the edge of Rio Cinca in Spain, there are 7 lay-bys for parking. Each lay-by has a wooden staircase leading down to the stoney riverbank beside the road, from where people are able to access the river and swim during the summer. I cannot envisage any UK council ever building 7 lay-bys for wild swimmers, let alone a staircase from each one to allow access for wild swimming. However, I do hope that such provision will be made for wild swimming in the UK during my lifetime - and that I am able to find it. This is a superb example of what can be done and, of course, the river does not see significant pollution exposure.
Wild swimming is associated to quality of life, and I don’t imagine that anyone is against improving that. I passionately believe that quality of life is connected to water quality and evidence would support this.
Then there’s the fun of finding new locations. Until around 2018, the best method available was to utilise Google Earth, which indicated places with small photographs on the interactive, online globe. This has all been integrated into Google Maps, but even with these fantastic tools, I still needed to actually find the swims to write about them. Usually, people would give me rose- tinted descriptions of fantastic swims, together with rather optimistic distance estimates to walk there. This all contributes to making hunting for a new swim more fun – and challenging.
Perhaps the most thrilling moment is upon first hearing the sound of water and catching a glimpse of a pool through the trees. One such place where I experienced this is “Il Fantastico”, in the Benedetto Alps in Italy. With such a name, it doesn’t need much description. It is a double pool at the end of a potentially risky path, and it definitely is “fantastico”.
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There is a swimming location in Sardinia with an enchanting signpost consisting of paint on a rock with an arrow pointing the way to go. There are also places with misleading signs – the very popular Lagetti pools in Sicily, which are very scenic and popular and, to my knowledge, without much pollution. The main gate is locked, but beside the notice to state access prohibition, a stack of old wine crates has been left in position to act as a style over the fence. Officially no but, actually, yes, it says. My Italian friends tell me that the word for this is “No-si”: No-yes. Another little-known swim in Italy, with a huge rock on the far side, seems to have been sculpted by nature into a spiral twist. The sight is stunning! I never realised that the Italians’ sense of fashion actually extended to natural rocks in the countryside (though, perhaps the influence works the other way around, with the countryside influencing the Italians’ sense of fashion). |
I utilised the stack of old wine crates to climb over the locked gate, whilst my partner Susan Burrow waits to follow.
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Statue of 2 children jumping into the river at Puente de Genave, Spain.
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In my exploration, I have come across interesting pieces of wild swimming art. In Riomagno, a photograph has been cunningly placed behind the waterfall, to make it appear as if a woman is trying to escape a hungry crocodile that is emerging from the water. At Puente de Genave in Spain, there is a statue of two children jumping into the river. There are no wild swimming statues in the UK that I am aware of, but these examples do provide evidence that it has formed a part of the local culture elsewhere in the world.
There are beautiful swims in the UK, such as Llangynidr, in Wales. It presents such a stunning scene, where taking a photograph can result in an image that appears more like a painting. The waterfall, its island, the deeps, the shallows, and the wonderful old oak tree stretching overhead, not to mention the lesser island (to the right of the photograph), where people bask in the sun all contribute to the beauty of this spot. |
This is not to suggest that wild swimming does not take place in less stunning situations. Wild swimming also – indeed, usually – takes place much nearer to the residential areas where people live. These are the areas where we really need to concentrate on reducing pollution. Let’s clean up our waters now that we can enjoy what is really a very basic and simple need to just enjoy them.
Wild swimming spot at Llangynidr, Wales.
