Lifeguards compete to save lives
Defending champs Tsunamis hope to win third straight national title
A group of helpless swimmers bob in the water in eerie silence. In this situation, every second counts. A line of lifeguards dive in and shatter the quiet, reaching the group in under half a minute and fastening rescue tubes around each individual with near- surgical precision. They’re not in the clear yet, though — as they’re towed to safety, one of those rescued is about to fall out of their sling, putting them at serious risk of drowning.
“That one’s OK, but if it gets backward any more ...” Nathan Carswell trails off, watching as the rescued swimmer begins to sink. “Yeah, that one’s disqualified.”
Carswell isn’t being callous — no one’s actually in danger. The swimmers are mannequins, the lifeguards are members of the competitive life- saving team Carswell coaches, the Tsunamis, and this was just a race. Their goal isn’t just to save others, but to save them as quickly as possible. These kids are lifeguarding machines.
This is one of their last practices before they travel to Brantford, Ont., for the Canadian pool championships, running from June 13- 14. If they win, it will be the Tsunamis’ third consecutive national title.
Jessica Burkart, 21, and Scott Southwood, 22, have been in the sport since before they started high school. They help mentor the under20 team, and have represented Canada at international competitions in Australia, Japan, France, South Africa and Columbia, although they can’t really explain that to their peers.
“When you see it, it makes sense. It’s way cooler than it sounds,” Burkart said. “People are like, ‘ Oh, you play with mannequins in a pool. Cool.’”
‘ They do require some strength,” Southwood said with a laugh, noting that the mannequins are 90 pounds and often carried with only one arm.
Competitive life- saving is recognized by the International Olympic Committee, though not part of the actual Olympics. It has a governing body called the International Life Saving Federation that organizes tournaments with several thousand participants. The competitions are divided into three categories: emergency response, surf and pool.
The Tsunamis learn emergency response as part of lifeguard training, and practising surf events in landlocked Alberta is difficult, so they mainly work on pool components. Events can consist of swimming under obstacles, towing and carrying mannequins, diving, relays and more. Some involve fins.
“These skills can help save someone’s life, and it’s the only sport that’s like that,” Carswell said.
The life- saving sport dates back to the late 1800s, but was only introduced to Alberta in the 1990s. The Calgary Winter Club’s program has been particularly successful, winning the past two national pool championships in addition to numerous provincial titles.
Carswell says members of his tight- knit team tend to stick with the sport. Case in point: assistant coach Sophie Gowsell used to be on the under- 20 squad. The competitors don’t even seem to mind how little recognition they receive, even when they compete on the international level.
“It’s humbling,” Southwood said jokingly. “You can’t brag about it.”
It also seems to breed a mindset. Minutes later, Burkart spotted Southwood jogging to grab a towel.
“Can you not run on deck?” Burkart yelled jokingly before returning her gaze to the ongoing activity in the pool.
“Always on duty.”
These skills can help save someone’s life, and it’s the only sport that’s like that.