In February and March I wrote about the Waikiki Natatorium War Memorial at the urging of Donna Ching, who helped produce a one-hour documentary about it.
Titled “The Tank,” the documentary will air Sunday at 7 p.m. on KHNL.
I learned a lot about “The Tank” in the process, particularly that it played such a significant role in the lives of so many people.
I also learned why a saltwater swimming pool was chosen as a memorial to those from Hawaii who had fought or died in World War I. It is an odd choice. When you think of war memorials, you don’t usually think of swimming pools.
Alexander Hume Ford, who founded the Outrigger Canoe Club, was on the committee to build a war memorial. Ford also saw the need for a swimming pool because at the time, Hawaii’s top swimmers competed in Honolulu Harbor.
Those two needs came together in 1927, and we found ourselves with the War Memorial Natatorium.
I heard from many who grew up at the Natatorium. One was Pete Kahele, who was born in Waimanalo and raised in Kapahulu/Waikiki.
“I attended Waikiki Elementary, St. Augustine, and Kaimuki Intermediate and High School,” Kahele says. “I delivered and sold the morning Advertiser and was also a shoe shine boy at Kuhio Beach, under the banyan tree. Waikiki was the backyard and playground for many of us that grew up here.
“My time at the Natatorium, aka ‘Da Tank,’ was 1956 to 1960. It was a place to be and to be seen by your friends, especially on the weekends or summer vacation.
“The plaque still stands across the driveway when entering the Natatorium, but the huge cannons that guarded the entrance, the huge pedestal clock that graced the inside entrance and of course the diving platforms are not there anymore!
“And yes, we knew that Duke Kahanamoku trained and competed in swimming meets here, along with many other accomplished swimmers. In fact, Duke used to drive by in his convertible car with his famous surfing hood ornament.
“Da Tank, for us 12- to 15-year-olds, was also a place where challenges were made amongst ourselves,” Kahele recalls. “This 100-meter outdoor pool had a four-level platform which was used in diving competitions, but to our age group this represented challenges that needed to be met and witnessed by your peers.
“Jumping off the first level was OK, but the higher levels were harder to achieve because of fear itself, especially at the very top level, which we called the Tower. It felt like being on the top of Diamond Head cause it was a looooong way down.
“On the second level there was a slide that had a lever which turned on the water. It sprayed the slide, which made it cooler and faster when sliding down into the pool. Just don’t get caught going down the slide headfirst by Walter Napoleon, who was in charge of the lifeguards. He wouldn’t hesitate to tell you to leave the Natatorium.
“We did tricks off of the Tower, too,” Kahele says. “One had to prepare himself or herself with a nose guard in the shape of a cone, which we simply made out of ti leaf, leather or a bicycle inner tube.
“We hung the guard around our neck, like a necklace. When ready to use, the guard was held in place between our teeth. This helped to prevent water from rushing up your nose when entering the water, especially from the Tower.
“One of the few tricks we did was the ‘Can Opener.’ Just before entering the water you pulled up one leg with both hands, and as you entered the water, you rolled yourself slightly backwards. This action, when done correctly, produced a splash that shot straight up, some higher than others.
“(There was also the) ‘Front and Back Suicide,’ ‘Swan Dive’ or ‘Paia.’ The Paia was done by standing at the very back railing on any of the four levels. At full speed you ran off the platform keeping your angled body straight. As you entered the water the goal was to reach and touch the opposite side of the pool by surfacing first with pointed toes. Consider yourself as being good if you made it.
“’Buddah’ was another favorite trick, crossing both arms across your chest and crossing both legs in a sitting position as you entered the water. This gave you a wider and louder splash.
“The ‘Needle’ was done with the least amount of splash when entering the water and to continue going down to the very bottom of the pool. This is where you gathered sand and brought it up to the surface by your toes.
“The last trick that we did definitely got you removed from the Natatorium. With Walter Napoleon being tied up in the office, several of us would quickly run up the stairs to the Tower and take our positions — three or four of us on each side of the platform, one on the rear railing. When the signal was given, we’d all jump in the pool, alternating from each side of the platform.
“Timing was crucial as we entered the water, landing in or on the splash of the person ahead of you, being aware that you had to swim quickly out of the way with the oncoming person that followed because he was right on top of you!
“The last person to enter normally had the biggest Buddah splash. The stunt was called the ‘Jackpot!’ At this age we didn’t see the danger when doing this stunt, only the thrill of it all. Gee, I wonder why we were told to leave the Natatorium!
“For us the Natatorium represented the gathering place. There was so much daily activity going on — lifeguards coming and going, beachgoers using the facilities that it provided, swimmers doing laps, kids learning how to swim, intense volleyball competitions played in front of the entrance and busloads of tourists attending the Kodak Hula Show. This was the life of the Natatorium that I knew!”
Kahele ended up being a swimmer throughout his high school years and was captain of the Kaimuki team in his varsity year. He was instrumental in the school’s winning the state championship during his junior varsity year. “I guess the Natatorium did have an influence on me after all.”
Bob Sigall, author of the “Companies We Keep” books, looks through his collection of old photos to tell stories each Friday of Hawaii people, places and companies. Email him at Sigall@Yahoo.com.
