Do You Hear What I Hear?

It is with a great deal of sadness that the Academy closes the swimming pool for the season. It provided a great deal of comfort and entertainment, and brought us closer to many dear friends. With the leaves off the trees, the flowers wilting, and the pool covered up tight, the fire pit is the only remaining object that holds any attraction for the West Campus. Well, that and a large, inflatable, glowing Tigger the Tiger.


This would be the first season that the headmaster has actually closed a swimming pool, and frankly we're a little worried about it. Closing a swimming pool is a very intricate process - in fact, it is a science. Which explains the existence of professional pool closers; these people will leave their spectacular country mansions to come close your humble pool only if you agree to pay the equivalent of their annual mortgage, and you promise not to watch the secret process. The BBA endowment certainly wasn't up to that requirement.

And so, armed with nothing more than a little Google sense, some wrenches and a cup of coffee, the headmaster marched out into the morning sun, headed for the pool building. There, he ran headlong into a 300-lb pool cover hanging from a hook, and promptly returned to the main building. Those guys over at Google hadn't said anything about 300-lb pool covers hanging from hooks, which proves, once and for all, that those two rich nerds don't know everything. Anyway, since the headmaster weighs all of 150 pounds, we had a little problem for the physics department. Following a brief consultation, they recommended a professional pool closer.

Undaunted, the headmaster procured some help from the locals, and after several hours of unfolding, refolding and unfolding again, finally managed to wrestle the cover into position.

Next, the filter had to be disassembled and cleaned. This particular filter is registered with the National Register of Historic Places, and looks like something that is best left untouched. In fact, earlier this summer, the Academy paid a professional pool filter historian a tidy sum for an inspection, whereby it was declared that spare parts are no longer available. So it was with some trepidation that wrenches were brought to bear on the aging bolts that hold the old girl together. Fortunately, she made it through the operation.

Finally, the pipes needed blowing, which, according to the Google guys, is the professional term for removing water. An air compressor was well-suited for the task, particularly since it happens to be the headmaster's favorite tool and he misses no opportunity to use it. So the air hose was inserted into the skimmer basket, and the air valve was opened full blast. What happened next can only be described as a spectacular water show. It is simply astonishing how far the human head can deflect a column of water. Even the physics department was impressed. Still, the headmaster persevered and got the job done.

Now, the Internet is positively choked with dire predictions of what will happen if you close your pool improperly. The shell of the pool itself has been known to rise up from the ground like a concrete zombie and keel over onto its side, twitching pathetically. And even worse than that, if the pipes are not sufficiently blown, water will collect and freeze, cracking the maze of PVC pipes that emanate from the pump house and snake their way under the pool. And so, there will be precious little sleep this winter. Lying there in bed with beads of sweat collecting on his poor, furrowed brow, the headmaster swears he can hear the sound of water freezing, PVC pipes cracking, and the remainder of the BBA endowment flowing under the West Campus.