London Life

London Life | 1924

How To Swim Minus A Limb

Dear Sir, - In response to "Monopede's" request, in a recent issue, for advice in connection with the prospects of his sister, who has lost a leg, being able to resume her swimming, may I be permitted to offer what help I can? It happens that my wife, whom I married a little under three years ago, has only one leg, her right leg having been amputated when she was only seven years, at about the same distance from the hip as "Miss Monopede's" (if I may be allowed to refer to her under that name), and it is, therefore, probable that her experiences may prove of interest, and it may be useful not only to "Miss Monopede," but to others. As a swimmer she is quite useful, though not, of course, very expert. She is quite sure that it will be perfectly simple for "Miss Monopede" to resume her swimming, especially as she was able to swim before her amputation. My wife, of course, learnt to swim some years after the loss of her leg, and she says there is little or no difficulty about it. The balance in the water is just as easily maintained, the only difference being that, as a one-legged swimmer can only strike out with one leg, a certain amount of speed is lost. The real trouble is however, not so much the actual swimming as discovering an ideal place in which to swim! A one-legged girl is not in the same position as an ordinary individual as far as swimming is concerned. Mixed bathing in a swimming bath will usually be quite out of question, while even on ladies' days a sensitive girl so handicapped will not find the very marked, and often extremely inquisitive, attention of the other ladies very welcome. Bathing at ordinary popular seaside resorts is also more or less ruled out. The sight of a one-legged girl in bathing or swimming costume on a crowded beach would provide too much of a sensation to make the venture pleasurable. My wife, in the circumstances, can therefore only recommend "Miss Monopede" to follow her own practice in this respect, and that is, for swimming in London, to frequent only one particular bath, where after a while one is taken more or less for granted; to go only in the mornings when the baths are not so well patronized; and always, of course, during hours reserved for ladies. It is also a good thing to be accompanied by a girl friend who is a good swimmer, in case of accidents. As regards sea-bathing, the best thing to do is to follow the practice of avoiding the popular crowded resorts and going for holiday to secluded spots on the coast. As a matter of fact we have only just returned from Cornwall, where, with a small party of friends, with had a splendid time, occupying most of our time in bathing. The numerous sheltered coves, with the fine stretches of sand, near where we stayed, provided as much privacy as we could anywhere, though, of course, we were not the only party using them. But though there were quite a few openly curious people, both men and women, about, there was, naturally, nothing like the publicity of a popular seaside beach; and anyhow, publicity never worries my wife if she were merely thinking of herself. Her friends are really more concerned than she is! For the beach she always wears an ordinary, regulation swimming costume, usually of blue silk with scarlet facings, fitting skin-tight to her very shapely figure; a scarlet cap and a close-fitting bathing slipper, also of scarlet, completing the costume. Her arms and leg are thus left bare from shoulder and hip, but at he right hip the silk of the costume is extended to form a sort of pocket, which fits the stump of the absent leg tightly and smoothly. I have frequently overheard criticisms of this mode of costume, the opinion being that at least a skirt should be worn with it. But as my wife is a keen swimmer, she sees not the slightest reason why she should not wear a swimming costume merely because she happens to have only one leg. But she agrees that if "Miss Monopede" is at all sensitive it might be as well for her to adopt a skirt with her costume when bathing, even in secluded spots by the seaside. My wife, by the way, never attempts to enter the water by herself, as that would be much too difficult a task, unless there are diving facilities. So usually I, or a friend, carry her in and out of the water whenever required. And I see to it that there is always somebody with her whenever she is in the water. Yours faithfully,

"Unijambiste."


London Life, October 4, 1924 p. 14
London Life | 1924