Ultimo's curvaceous complex

Ultimo's Ian Thorpe Aquatic Centre is overflowing with curves. From the wave-shaped roof that rises high over the 50-metre pool to the soaring curved form of the outside roof.

Then there's the shapely lines of the leisure pool, meandering, twisting and turning around the playful space. The curve of the roof is repeated in the rounded shapes of the amenity pods, and in chrome handrails that sweep dramatically along a walkway and by steps leading into the centre's three pools. 

The complex was designed by world-renowned architect Harry Seidler, who unfortunately died a year before it was opened in 2007. His design was selected from a number of entries submitted to a 2001 City of Sydney competition run by the then Lord Mayor, Frank Sartor. Fifty four years earlier Harry wasn't as successful with his design for the stadium and swimming pool for the Melbourne Olympics, which was awarded to a Victorian team headed by Peter McIntyre.

In 2004, Lord Mayor Clover Moore proposed that the $40m facility be named after Ian Thorpe, who she described as Australia's greatest ever Olympian. Today, as you enter the pool a huge colour photograph of Thorpey torpedoing through the water stretches across the wall opposite the reception area.

Around noon last Saturday when I visited, there weren't too many swimmers of Thorpey's standard churning up the 50-metre pool. The place was pretty chilled with lap swimmers moving at a leisurely pace, as red T-shirted aquatic instructors ran swimming lessons in lanes seven and eight. On the lower level, families frolicked in the water-spraying leisure pool, while bodies soaked up the sun on the terrace or sipped on their coffee.

Unlike many older-style indoor pools which can be stuffy and overly chlorinated this complex is well ventilated and full of natural light. Dappled sunlight pours in through skylight ribbons at each roof truss and there are natural ventilation openings in the roof and facade. Clear glass walls add to the openness of the space. On the eastern side the activities and buildings of inner-city Harris Street reflect into the watery space. On the western side, the centre opens onto two terraces overlooking Darling Harbour and the city skyline.

As well as enjoying the centre's architecture, swimming in the 50-metre pool was a pleasant experience. The water was a nice temperature and feel. Switching from freestyle to backstroke I enjoyed gazing up at the magnificence of the shapely roof, high above me. For an indoor pool, it's hard to beat the Ian Thorpe Aquatic Centre. It's light and airy, has inexpensive parking below in Pyrmont Street and has a choice of three pools, a sauna and steam room, cafe and gym.

Who knows as you enter the spectacular space, maybe some of Thorpey's aquatic magic will rub off?  And for fair-skinned Celts like me, the indoor centre is a good alternative to lathering my body in 30-plus sunscreen and swimming in a rashie on a sunny Sydney Saturday.

Ian Thorpe Aquatic Centre is at 456 Harris Street, Cnr of William Henry Street Ultimo. It is open from 6am to 9pm Monday to Friday and from 6am to 8pm on Saturday, Sunday and public holidays. The centre is closed on Good Friday and Christmas Day.

Hobart's abandoned aquatic house

There's something desolate about abandoned swimming pools. All the life has gone from them; they're quiet, empty and still.

All the life has long gone from the Dr Plaister Aquatic House in Hobart. Originally called the Hobart Tepid Baths, the 72-year-old art-deco complex has been boarded up and closed for nearly 10 years. The former Hobart icon lies derelict and abandoned. Instead of water, its pools are filled with graffiti, rubbish, murky puddles and discarded kickboards. Its windows are smashed; barbed wire fences keep visitors out. 

The closure of the Department of Education's swimming program at the pool seems to have marked the end of the Dr Plaister Aquatic Centre. The 1997 opening of the Hobart Aquatic Centre where swimmers could ''escape to a sub-tropical day even during Hobart's coldest months' probably added to its demise.

When the Governor of Tasmania, Sir Ernest Clark officially opened the Hobart Tepid Baths on 10 November 1938 they were described as an adornment and a blessing to the city. The heated centre allowed locals to swim all year round, and it was hoped a compulsory swimming program for Tasmanian children would follow. 

While the baths went into liquidation soon after they were opened, the Department of Education's purchase of the pool in 1948 was the making of the place.  As well as persuading the Department to buy the pool, Doug Plaister, a leading local swimmer and water safety educator convinced the education authorities to introduce a swimming program to the school curriculum. This was the start of the Learn-to-Swim program which was subsequently introduced to schools across Australia.

By the late 1940s the complex now known as Amateur House, had become the centre for swimming in Tasmania. Over the years thousands of children learnt to swim at the 55-yard pool. 

When a group of art interventionists took over the pool for One Night Only in March 2009, reviewer Bec Tudor said the opportunity to lawfully enter 212 Collins Street was a big drawcard. "Whether intrigued by the idea of an outdoor pool in Hobart, curious about what lay behind the boarded-up facade, or a survivor of its infamous stick-wielding swim instructor, everybody knows this site and seems to hold a personal stake in it," Bec said.

Who knows who the 'stick-wielding instructor' was? One name that is synonymous with the place is Doug Plaister. The Mayor of Hobart from 1976 to 1984, Doug Plaister ran the swimming program at the pool and lived on site for a period of time. In 1991 the complex was renamed Dr Plaister Aquatic House in his honour.

While many Hobartians hoped the site would be restored to its former glory, its days as a swimming centre are over.  In the coming months it will be redeveloped into a four-level office and apartment complex.  The facade of the Eric Round-designed building with its distinctive brickwork, is the only part that will be retained.  When the bulldozers finally move in, it will be the end of an era for this Hobart institution. 

Winter swimming at Leichhardt Pool

Leichhardt Park Aquatic Centre (LPAC) in Sydney's inner west is my pool. Since I moved to the area 20 years ago, it has been my lap swimming spot. 


While it's very popular in summer, my favourite time is in the colder months when only the regulars brave the outdoor 50-metre pool. Heated to 27 degrees, in the early morning steam rises off the water's surface creating a soft, dreamy-like atmosphere. It's like swimming in an enormous steam bath.

At the Lilyfield end of the Leichhardt Municipality, the six-pool centre with gym and cafe rests in a beautiful setting overlooking Iron Cove on the Parramatta River. Behind the pool is iconic Leichhardt Oval, part-time home of the Wests Tigers Rugby League team. Nearby are the rambling grounds of Callan Park, the former Rozelle Psychiatric Hospital and the Leichhardt Rowing Club where we recently held our wedding reception. 


It's a friendly place starting with Julie, the bright and cheerful receptionist who seems to know almost all the patrons. Bill the manager might also say hi and the life-guards are good for a chat especially when discussing the quality of the water in their pool.

And then there's regulars like Peter, who talks to everyone and possibly spends more time chewing the fat than swimming. Peter has been coming to the pool for the past 20 years since he hurt his back in a car accident. He swims four mornings a week and usually ends his session with a cup of coffee from Philip's onsite cafe Blu Aqua Kiosk with a crowd of regulars.  

Before LPAC was opened in 1960, locals swam at a tidal pool on the shores of the Parramatta River, directly in front of the current pool. Opened in 1905, Ellen Williams, a member of the swimming club during the 1930s and early 40s recalls that Leichhardt Council Baths were great when the tide was high but a bit on the nose at low tide. After more than 50 years in operation, in 1958 the tidal baths were closed.


Like many local governments around Australia, Leichhardt Council was keen to build on the success of Australian swimming at the 1956 Melbourne Olympic Games and have its own Olympic-standard swimming centre. That dream became a reality on 12 December 1960 when the Mayor of Leichhardt officially opened the municipality's new 50-metre pool, diving pool with diving tower and children's pool.

Over the past nearly 50 years there have been many additions and changes to LPAC and today it has six different pools. But for me there is really only one pool: the 50-metre outdoor pool that will hit its half century on 10 December this year.

Wonderful watery words

When I was reading Kate Grenville's novel The Lieutenant on Hamilton Island I was struck by her beautiful descriptions of water. So I thought I would share some of those passages.

The Lieutenant is the story of Daniel Rooke, a young soldier and astronomer who arrives in NSW on the First Fleet in 1788. It's the story of his fascination and obsession with the night sky, and his friendship with the local Aboriginal people, particularly a girl called Tagaran, who teaches him her language. Like Grenville's earlier novel, The Secret River, this book highlights how different things could have been in this country if all the early settlers treated indigenous Australians like Lieutenant Daniel Rooke. Here are some of Kate Grenville's wonderful watery words:

Sailing into Sydney Harbour, page 51:

"Beyond the cliff an enormous body of quiet water curved away to the west. Sirius glided past bays lined with crescents of yellow sand and headlands of dense forest. There was something about this vast hidden harbour - bay after perfect bay, headland after shapely headland - that put Rooke in a trance. He felt he could have travelled along it forever into the heart of this unknown land. It was the going forward that was the point, not the arriving, the water creaming away under the bow, drawn so deeply along this crack in the continent that there might never be any need to stop."

Daniel Rooke at his campsite at night, page 81:

"From his stretcher he could hear the waters of the port, the restless sound coming in the window hole. The water was never still, always in conversation with itself and with the shore. He could hear it slapping up against the rocks at the foot of the point, knew how it must look,washing foamily into crannies."

Daniel Rooke immerses himself in the waters of Botany Bay in despair after he realises his fellow soldiers were going to behead  Aboriginals they captured, page 278:

"Breaking the skin of the water and sliding beneath it was like slipping into an extension of himself. It was warm, warmer than during the day, almost the temperature of his body. It buoyed him up, lapping itself around him, making him a floating nothing, not of land, not of sea, not of this world, not of another: not Daniel Rooke who occupied the rank of second lieutenant, but a mass without a name, displacing a certain amount of Botany Bay."

Honeymoon pools on Hamilton Island

Finally back on the blog after a busy couple of months organising our wedding, which took place on 8 May, a very sunny and beautiful day. It was a great afternoon and evening full of celebration, tears, laughter and lots of dancing from young and old alike.

Two days later we headed north to Queensland's Hamilton Island for our honeymoon. Back in June 1770, Captain James Cook sailed through the Whitsunday Passage, passing by Hamilton Island.

Covering an area of 750 hectares, Hamilton Island has spectacular sunsets, beautiful butterflies, cute marine turtles, delicious but expensive food and plenty of swimming pools. There's no Olympic complexes on the island but there's every other shape and size of pool. There's huge, meandering, resort pools, stylish and shapely infinity pools, tiny, private plunge pools, straight, long, lap pools and curvaceous, flamboyant designer pools.

The pool at the Beach Club where we stayed was a lovely 25-metre infinity pool overlooking Catseye Beach. At our very leisurely breakfasts on the terrace each morning, colourful catamarans would sail passed the glistening turquiose water in the pool. As well as being great for a float around and relax, the pool was a good length to swim laps. It even had a black line along the bottom of the pool, which kept me on the straight and narrow. Built around 2002, the deepest part of the pool is 2.4 metres, which levels out to 1.2 metres in the shallow end. If you lie low, the water in the pool and in Catseye Beach join up.

All the other resorts on the island have pools but the one that really caught our eye was at the newly-built Yacht Club Villas, next door to the Hamilton Island Yacht Club. This very curvy almost voluptuous pool stretches along the water's edge in front of the development's Jamie Durie-designed garden. At sunset it looked especially alluring with the fading light in the sky bathing the water in a pink glow. 

The next-door Yacht Club, which was opened in 2009, includes a narrow 30-metre lap pool which sits underneath the wings of the Walter Barda-designed building.  Dubbed the Opera House of the Barrier Reef, the Yacht Club is the baby of businessman and sailor Bob Oatley, the owner of the island. Whatever you think of the design, the club's top terrace was a very romantic spot to sip on champagne and watch the changing colours and shapes of the sky and sea at sunset.

The swimming club at Northbridge Baths

A couple of Saturdays ago I ventured back to Northbridge Baths, where I spent a signficant part of my childhood. I arrived around 8am in time to experience the joys of the Saturday morning swimming club. From the late 1960s to the very early 80s I was a member of the swimming club. Every Saturday morning from October to the end of March, my sister and I would pick up our friends, the Hall girls, and run down the hill just in time to sign on for the morning's races. Located at the bottom of steep, winding Widgiewa Road, these saltwater tidal baths are set in secluded Sailors Bay, a quiet corner of Sydney's Middle Harbour. Surrounding the pool enclosure are bushland, sailing boats and multi-levelled houses peaking through the trees.

The day I sat and observed the Saturday races, not a lot seemed to have changed since my time at the club. Of course there were many new faces but there were also a few familiar ones too. There was even a competitor from my parents' generation, who must be well into his 70s but is still diving off those blocks. The atmosphere was the same - full of friendly people, joking, laughing, encouraging, stirring and jibing - all enjoying the camaraderie of their club. There was the mandatory discovery of a possibly poisonous sea creature, which on this occasion was a sting ray. There were also the usual kids who go missing just before they are called for a race, off playing with their friends or checking out the sting ray. The club colours are definitely stronger these days with most members competing in bright red and yellow cossies with Northbridge emblazoned in white across their lower backs. A number of mothers take part, but just like in my day, the races are dominated by the dads, primary-aged-kids and a few grandfathers.

The swimming club is almost as old as the baths. The baths were officially opened on 8 November 1924. The Northbridge Amateur Swimming Club was formed just over two months later on 15 January 1925. At only 25 feet wide and 33 feet long, the original baths, which were called Sailors Bay Baths, were much smaller than the current complex. Over the years the baths have undergone many changes and additions. Between 1935 and 1937, the area of the baths was extended to provide a 55-yard racing course and additional changeroom accommodation. Thirty years later, the 55-yard racing area was updated to a 50-metre competitive section with fibreglass starting blocks, which is where races are held today.

During the mid-1970s, a favourite game among my friends was to dare each other to dive under the starting blocks and come up the other side. I was always a bit fearful I would get stuck among the moss and slime that covered the bottom of the blocks and so was reluctant to attempt the dare. I would duck-dive to the bottom but never went any further - afraid of where I might end up - maybe in a completely different world. I was happier diving off those blocks at the Saturday morning swimming races just like everyone seemed to be the day I dropped in on the Northbridge Amateur Swimming Club.

Meet the music man of Manuka Pool

It's a special place - Manuka Pool - not just because it was the first pool in the nation's capital or that it's art deco in style. It's because of the people connected to it - the people who love and care for this inner-Canberra icon. And the main man who loves and cares for this pool is John Taverner, affectionately known as Tav.

Like his parents before him, Tav is the manager of Manuka Pool. He's not just any manager; he's the heart and soul of this 78-year-old aquatic place. Tav says his pool has a special karma, which he links back to the billabong which flowed through the land on which the pool was built. The local Kooris gathered and bathed at the billabong and Tav believes their spirit lives on today and protects the people at the man-made swimming hole.

And Tav would know. He's spent most of his life there. His parents' Owen and Lesley ran the centre from 1947 to 1999. Growing up his backyard was the pool, and as a little boy was known to ride his tricycle off the diving board into the 30-metre pool. In the garden area near the children's wading pool, Tav has erected a plaque and planted an Arizona pine in honour of his parents' love and dedication in running Manuka Swimming Pool for 50 summers.

These days Tav has put his own style on this 'cool' pool where music is a part of the atmosphere of the place. Years ago when a local boys' school played a lively Cold Chisel number at the opening of their swimming carnival, Tav realised the power music could have to change the mood of the pool.

"The boys went wild, dancing, jumping in the water and throwing bags and hats in," says Tav. "Since then I've been playing music over the PA. If people need calming down on a hot afternoon I'll put something soothing on. Other times I'll change the tune to add some vitality to the place."

With his eclectic taste in music and extensive CD collection, you are bound to hear something new and different at Manuka Pool. The hot summer's afternoon we were there, chilled Mexican music serenaded around the space. As dusk approached, the Cuban sound of the Buena Vista Social Club took over. The next morning lap swimmers stroked to the dulcet tones of Van ''the man'' Morrison.

While music may not have been a feature at Manuka Pool when it was first opened on 26 January 1931, it was certainly a popular place among young people and families, public servants and parliamentarians. Designed by the government's principal architect E H Henderson and built by 'sustenance' or unemployed workers, during its early days the pool was the scene of many romantic beginnings.  Today, locals have a strong affection for the place, especially its regular morning swimmers, "The Coneheads". Like the Aboriginals before them, the ''Coneheads" gather each day at the watery space to bathe, talk and make friends. As 88-year-old ''Conehead" Don says: "When you strike a place as good as this why go anywhere else. It's a hidden treasure!"