“Pffffeeeeeeeeeeeeee,” was the numbing sound of the whistle that echoed over the lake; it‘s a childhood memory and probably gave more than one person a chronic ringing in their ears. I had to find out if there still was a whistle blowing lifeguard at that forrest pool in Lich. And get a picture, of course. The most important theme was the jetty, lazily floating above the water about 100 feet from the bank. It was the perfect launching pad for a spectacular entrance into the water. After some hefty negotiations with the supervisor, who 20 years on still locked his eagle-eyed gaze over the water, I got a “yes.” With my skateboard and a paddleboat, I headed out to try my luck.
As I climbed onto the jetty, I kicked the boat out of the shot. The photographer gave me the signal: everything was good to go. Meanwhile, a gaggle of geese flew overhead and a horde of retirees were making their predictions loud and clear that I would certainly drown, clothes and all. As the big moment came, I jumped, slipped over the bench, and plunged into thecold wetness. I didn’t drown but I can’t say the same about my skateboard. After more than a few dives down to the bottom of the lake, I finally got the board back up and on dry land. After that, the lifeguard let his echo whistle across the water, leaving another ringing in all our ears.