Thursday, October 17, 2019

Swimming with Inner Tubes

The first new friends my parents made when they moved from Zanzibar to Dar-es-Salaam in 1943 were Martin and Ruth Lux. Being very short-staffed, my father found himself having to deal with the African Mercantile's trade in hides and skins which, in war time, were an important commodity but about which he knew nothing. Martin was manager of the rival Old East African Trading Co., which also dealt in hides and skins, but was very helpful.

Martin and his wife Ruth (left, with my mother) had a banda - a small, palm-thatched house - on the coast to the south of Dar and our family went over by ferry several times to spend the weekend with them, bathing and relaxing.

It may be that Martin (top picture) introduced me to the joys of swimming with an old inner tube. If so, I am eternally grateful for....

....it was something my brother and I enjoyed for years, whenever we had the chance. This picture was taken at the Swimming Club in Mombasa, with me proudly holding my tube. In the background are the Swimming Club's rafts and, on the other side of the Old Port, the Old Town and, to the left, Fort Jesus.

In this picture, taken at the Hoey house on the beach at Nyali, I was twelve. Richard and I had a wonderful holiday there, spending every moment we could on the beach below the house, exploring the rock pools which stretched out towards the reef when the tide was low, but....

....revelling in the excitement of paddling over sometimes quite vicious breakers when the tide was high and the sea a little rough.

Once, when we were swimming on just such a day, my mother screamed at us to come in - she had seen the dorsal fin of a shark. It was the flipper of a large turtle.

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