Thrown in at the deep end!

When I was about six, my Dad took me to Blackpool baths. I was unable to swim and perhaps he was going to teach me. I can remember it clearly and I was apprehensive because I could not swim.
We got changed and approached the pool. My Dad just jumped in and beckoned for me to follow. Of course to a six year old boy it was all too frightening a prospect to just get in.

I have to admit I was terrified even though he said that he would hold me up but I was too scared. It wasn't long before he got angry and insistent but to a small boy it was just too much too soon. Then he stormed out of the pool rapidly ascending the ladder. Once out he grabbed hold of me and threw me into the pool. I felt myself plunge into the water and momentarily sink below the surface. Sheer panic overcame me as I broke the surface and flailed my arms about in sheer terror. Seeing this, my Dad jumped in and rescued me but of course that was the end of my swimming lesson.

Strangely enough, I was not put off learning to swim when we, as a family were posted to Singapore.
There, we were taught properly and not only that, I remember my Mother gently coaxing me into the big pool from the children's one which was shallow and safe. She was able to stand up in the shallow end and support me as I gradually gained confidence. It was not long before I got my school swimming certificate from my teacher Mr Robinson.

After this, there was no stopping me and I went on to become a strong and confident swimmer but I would never forget the cruelty of my Father.