First the pool, then the cruel sea
This year, Ricky Harris, a self-described ‘flounderer’, resolved to put open water between him and his fear of drowning within sight of the shoreline – the hard way
I can’t swim. At least, I couldn’t six months ago. It’s ironic considering we had a pool when I was little. Not because we were posh, but because I lived in Chicago and lots of people had pools. When I was a bigger I lived near the beach – a seaweed-infested Irish beach, but a beach nonetheless. In school I learnt how to make a raft ...
