The first time I climbed down to watch my swimmers, like fish in an aquarium, I found this new perspective almost hypnotic. I was stunned at what was easily visible underwater that could not be seen from the deck. As my swimmers pushed off the wall, those in a tight streamline traveled much farther and faster before taking their first stroke. But, as soon as they broke that streamline to begin pulling and kicking, they moved much slower. I received many other enduring impressions of the differences between my swimmers and fish I had observed, particularly why, even when swimming lazily, fish could move fast enough to travel 100 meters in less than 25 seconds and 1500 meters in less than 5 minutes.
Fish maintain a constant sleek and tapered silhouette.
Humans move through a constantly changing series of awkward and blocky shapes, mainly caused by the head and limbs. Fish leave barely a ripple in their wake no matter how fast they swim. Humans churn up the water crazily, leaving a cascade of bubbles with every stroke or kick. And any feeble attempt at speed causes turbulence to increase exponentially. Fish swim with no discernible effort.