On a scorching summer day, the Canberra Olympic Pool in Civic is a vibrant tableau of laughter, shrieks of joy, and the constant splash of bodies hitting water. For generations, this sun-bleached oasis has been the capital's go-to retreat during heatwaves, a place where time seems to stand still. Yet, this beloved institution's days are numbered, marking the end of a significant chapter in Canberra's social history.
A Legacy Built for the Olympic Era
The pool, constructed in 1955 and opened in 1956, was born from Australia's fervent passion for swimming in the lead-up to the Melbourne Olympics that same year. It served as a crucial recreational hub for a small but rapidly growing capital. Its distinctive cantilevered diving tower quickly became, and remains, the centrepiece of this mid-century gem, drawing thrill-seekers of all ages.
Walking into the complex is like stepping back in time, a feeling underscored by historical black-and-white photos in the foyer depicting decades of sunseekers and swimmers. Today, the scene is remarkably similar, with crowds flocking to the pools and the ever-popular diving boards, where queues form constantly.
What Canberra Stands to Lose
The pool is scheduled for demolition, making way for urban renewal. The proposed replacement, a $138 million Canberra Aquatic Centre in Commonwealth Park, is revealed in new tender documents to likely exclude a dedicated dive pool and diving boards. This prospect has alarmed the community, who see it as the loss of a unique, active, and wholesome public space.
For young people like 18-year-old Olavii Saarikko, the pool is an irreplaceable training ground. "It's so much fun coming here with my friends, trying to do harder dives and get better," he says. He fears that once the pool is gone, he and his mates will be forced to seek out unsupervised and potentially dangerous rivers and lakes to practise, especially following the earlier closure of the Big Splash water park in Macquarie.
Lifeguards Zara and Stella Layton, who oversee the diving tower, highlight the safety aspect. "You see people perfecting their technique - but if someone breaks their leg, here, they've got people like us, and first aid," Zara notes. "But in a river? Not so much."
Community Fears a More Boring Canberra
Ross Burden, President of the Canberra Diving Academy and a regular user, is scathing about the proposed change. "You go along and take that away, and put up a pool in Commonwealth Gardens with little spraying dolphins, what do you think you're going to get?" he asks. "One of the biggest white elephants the government's ever seen."
Parents at the pool echo concerns about losing a vital, character-building space for youth. Erica Jung, watching her daughter, worries about the void it will create. "If you don't give them somewhere to go, they'll just go out and do anti-social stuff, for the adrenaline," she says.
On the lawns, Jacqui Fraser appreciates the simple, screen-free holiday activity the pool provides. "It's a beautiful landscape - this open space," she remarks, a sentiment shared by the countless families and groups of friends who treat the facility as a summer ritual.
As the demolition date approaches, the archival photos in the foyer will soon become a literal snapshot of the past. The closure of the Civic pool, following other venue losses, threatens to cement a less dynamic side of Canberra's reputation. The loss is more than concrete and water; it's the disappearance of a 70-year-old community heartbeat where adrenaline, laughter, and timeless summer memories were made.
