Feeling exactly like a fish out of water

As you get older, or in my case just plain old, scenes from your

youth keep popping up. The other day I was reading something that

triggered a memory of George Sergeant. He and his brothers pretty

much ran Huntington Park High School, which I attended. Fortunately

for my well-being, he took a liking to me, and instead of thrashing

me, as he did to all who offended him, he tolerated my presence with

equanimity -- most of the time.

One day we were walking along and saw a calliope. George said,

“Oh, look, a cally-ope.”

Without thinking, I said, “That’s cu-lie-oh-pee.”

George grabbed me by the front of my shirt. “Bob, that’s

cally-ope.”

I quickly came to my senses. “You’re right, George. That’s a

cally-ope.”

George may have run the school, but it was Fish Plosel who put us

on the map.

I have spent most of my life in the water. According to my mother,

I should have been born with scales instead of skin. My mother was

perhaps a tad short on affection but long on realism.

I have always been a water nut. Out of the water, I gasp, drool,

stumble, fall down. In the water, I am comfortable. I feel as sleek

and as graceful as a seal. Whether I am is debatable, but that’s the

way I feel.

And so it’s unsurprising that my pantheon of heroes are mostly

watermen.

This was true even as a youth. At Huntington Park High, my hero

was one Fish Plosel. And who, might you ask, was Fish Plosel? Well,

at the risk of overstatement, Fish was the greatest swimmer of all

time, capable of swimming circles around Johnny Weismuller.

In school, I was on the swim team. I was not great, not even very

good, but I was definitely enthusiastic. I was a dependable third in

my event, the medley. And then one day this kid walked onto our team.

He was from the Panama Canal Zone, where he learned to swim before he

could walk, but this wasn’t what made him remarkable. He had hands

like tennis racquets, and his feet looked like he was wearing swim

fins. He went through the water like a hungry shark after a meal.

Our team went from middle-of-the-pack to a champion with the

addition of Fish Plosel. He was a guaranteed first place in every

event he swam, even pulling the relays into first place.

A swimmer like that attracts notice, and soon the Los Angeles and

Hollywood Athletic Clubs, the big swim powerhouses of the day, were

angling to get him on their rosters. There was talk of the Olympics

and medals -- and then the school year ended, and so did the swim

career of Fish Plosel. He couldn’t have been less interested in all

the potential glory dangled in front of him. He wanted to go back to

his family, and that’s what he did.

We never heard of Fish Plosel again. Our swim team sank back into

mediocrity, and as far as I know, he finished his career racing ships

through the locks of the Panama Canal.

* ROBERT GARDNER is a Corona del Mar resident and a former judge.

His column runs Tuesdays.