Marina Memories

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09 October 2025

My earliest memories of the Ramsgate Marina swimming pool were from when I was about five. My mum was trying to persuade me to jump in at the shallow part of the pool, two feet, six inches, by the white steps seen at the bottom of the photo. My mum was way more patient than the little boy who, after 20 minutes of my dithering, finally shoved me hard in the back and pushed me in.

A couple of years later, a little further along where the water was a little deeper, I still dithered but eventually jumped at the exact same moment my mum was distracted and turned away. When she looked back, I wasn’t there. As I sank under the water in front of her, she grabbed me by the hair and yanked me out as I wailed, “you didn’t catch me!”.

However, once I learnt to swim at the age of 10, there was no stopping me. The Ramsgate Marina Swimming Pool became my second home for the next few summers. Within a few weeks, I had gained my first certificate for swimming the 85-yard length down the side between the two shallow ends. Then 50 metres, 200 metres and half mile swimming badges for swimming lengths between the two piers.

The brilliant part of the Marina was that it was so versatile, it had space for everyone and every kind of activity. Although, I imagine today that very versatility would have it condemned on safety grounds.

The shallow ends, entered by the graduating white steps, started at just two feet, six inches. As you waded out from the steps towards the pier the depth increased to three feet, six inches. This was the kiddies and family area, and, at 25-yards wide, a good starting place to build up swimming confidence.

Along the 85-yard length the water increased to four feet by the side and four feet, six inches by the ropes that ran between the two piers, and where you would find the older more confident children “bombing” (jumping to create maximum water dispersal), and learning to dive, close enough to the family seating area, where mums and dads sat watching, providing encouragement, towels, the occasional dab of suncream, sandwiches and drinks.

The 50-metre space between the piers was designed to meet Olympic standards for length. The ropes that ran between the ends of the piers were the only health and safety measures to separate the shallower water from the deep end. Close to the ropes, where the depth had increased to between six feet by the piers and seven feet in the middle, you would find the serious swimmers, ploughing back and forth doing lengths.

The teenagers hung out along the seawall side, as far away from parental eyes as possible, boys and girls alike posing in our most flattering swimwear and showing off our diving skills. This is where I met my first real boyfriend.

With a combination of one metre and three metre springboards and the double five-metre-high board, there were plenty of opportunities for showing off. The water depth graduated from just under six feet inside the pier to 15 feet in the middle. The stairs going up to the 10m “top board” were kept locked and only opened on request. The guard in the office would use the loudspeaker to repeat every minute or so, using the same serious and steady tone, “Keep the deep end of the pool clear now please, whilst the top board is being used”. Everyone would stop and watch.

I remember the first time one boy, a brilliant swimmer and diver from the five metre boards, dived from the 10-metre board. Everyone was watching. He climbed the stairs to the top board, looked over the railings at the side, walked away and back again a couple of times. Clearly nervous. The difference between five metre and 10-metre being quite considerable. Eventually he sat down on the edge and did a roll dive. He came up to a cheer and happily went up again for his first full standing dive from the 10-metre board. He was maybe 10 or 12 at the time and was quite a feat of achievement.

All depth measurements were approximate, because at high tide the water was a couple of inches deeper than at low tide, due to the leaks that eventually got the pool condemned. Which is why, even though technically a freshwater chlorinated pool, it was always salty. Diving and jumping were the only sane ways of getting into the water, which was always freezing, even in the height of Summer.

At the top of the photo is the cafe, under which were the changing rooms, with the shallow disinfectant pool you had to walk through to get in and out. Out of sight at the bottom of the photo was the sunbathing area, known as the Sun Deck.

In the Winter, the pool was drained for cleaning, but the very deepest part, the 15 feet under the 10-metre board, was never free of water and there was always seaweed growing on the bottom.

I remember how proud I was of my dad who would duck dive in the 15 feet part and come up with a handful of seaweed when the pool was full in the summer.

At the end of the Summer the lifeguards would put on a show, wearing clown outfits and doing silly dives from the 10-metre board.
Written by:
Councillor Helen Crittenden
Councillor for Eastcliff Ward


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