Mom could never swim. she was fearful of having her head in water. something to do with an over-zealous preacher and her baptism
she took me to swimming class in el paso. my brother had not been born, so i was probably three at the time. bailed. hated having to wear the flip flops, too. didn't take much to convince Mom i wasn't interested in swimming
fast forward to a move to charleston, sc at age nine. Dad showed me how to body surf at a then undeveloped sullivan's island and folly beach. do that enough and you just learn to swim. next up was skim boarding and dreaming of skippering those hobie cats i would see, with their colorful sails, in the waters off of the battery at the citadel
on the air force base, at 10 years old, dependents could go to the pool without being accompanied by an adult. so, the base NCO pool (officers had a nicer, less trafficked pool) became my solo destination. and as a fat kid, it was both good and bad. on the down side, that gut was placed on public exhibition. on the other hand, it came in handy when seeing who could make the biggest splash off the diving board. and that was followed by learning every possible dive. since they were prohibited, gainers were the forbidden fruit. only attempted when ready to leave the pool ... because the lifeguards were going to make that happen, anyway
went to a college just off the atlantic coast, primarily so i could swim and surf. my grades reflected that decision
a girl friend taught me to sail her hobie and soon thereafter i bought a torpedo class sailboat and moved to myrtle beach to race up and down the eastern seaboard. by then, being a strong swimmer was essential, as these boats would often turtle, requiring sailors to have to right the offending boat in choppy seas
only qualification received was from the scouts to be able to teach swimming and boating
my daughter lives on the chattahoochee river and my son resides on a fairly large trimaran. they seem to have acquired the joy of swimming, too