I learned as a kid, and was quite confident as a young adult. I'd singed up with the Navy Reserves as a aircrewman, which meant I had to pass the Navy's "First Class Swim Test." At bootcamp in Orlando, about week three, me and a guy named Jones were pulled out of line and told to report to the pool. We arrived and a First Class Petty Officer ordered us both in the water, and started barking out instructions. It was clear Jones was struggling to finish most of them, and the PO1 pulled him aside. He looked at me and said, "Stand by, Coats!" So I started a quiet slow backstroke/float. My ears were below water level, so it was quiet, and the sun was bright and clear; my eyes were fully closed. But you know, that feeling when you're at the beach, and a cloud passes over the sun, and you feel it in your eyelids? That was me, but there was no cloud, just the PO1 screaming at me (which I could only tell from his flapping jaw and spewing saliva). I leapt out of the water and he shoved my signed off paperwork to me and told me to beat feet back to my company. Poor Jones was shuffled off somewhere, his aircrew or other swim-necessary job dashed.
