THE bathing place on the River Cherwell in North Oxford was called the Rhea.

We’re not sure how it got its name, but it was a popular venue for swimmers from schools in the area.

Reader Barbara Bunyan, of Jack Straw’s Lane, Headington, sparked our interest in the long-lost pool, to the north of Lady Margaret Hall, when she recalled visiting it during her school days (Memory Lane, September 1).

She wrote: “Within the partitioned area, the shallow end was fenced off from the deeper part, where there was a diving board and steps down into the water.

“A grassy area was lined with rather primitive wooden huts used for changing.

“Often when we arrived, the whole surface of the water was covered with a fine green weed, so some brave person had to jump in and swish it all away to clear the water for us.

“The water was green and murky and often dead fish were evident, but that did not deter us.

“Many of us learned to swim in this place and the break from claustrophobic classrooms was enjoyed by all.”

Now Ann Spokes Symonds, of Davenant Road, North Oxford, has found a picture of the Rhea and an ‘obituary’.

She and her niece from America swam there.

The bathing place was near Wychwood School, the independent girls’ school in Banbury Road.

Pupils from Wychwood and other schools used it, and it may also have been open to the public during school holidays. But by 1970, the Rhea had closed, due to pollution fears and the fact that pupils could now swim at modern pools at Oxford High School for Girls and the Dragon School.

Wychwood headmistress Miss E M Snodgrass was one of many to regret its passing.

She wrote: “Last summer (1969) was positively the last appearance of the Rhea. Times change and so does the reaction to river water pollution.

“The modern generation, so hygienic and cleanly, is not nostalgic about the Rhea, but I am and probably many Old Girls will feel as I do.”

Someone even wrote a poem on the Rhea, highlighting the hazardous cycle ride swimmers had to get to it and how moorhens would scuttle their brood away as the human invasion began. Part read:

The lane was narrow, dank;
Its smell, the rotting compost smell from LMH And of the undrained ditch from which we steered Our jolting bicycles With shrinking legs drawn up to handlebars To skirt the nettles.
Inside the still grey water waits: The ripples in V formation as the mother moorhen Quickly evacuates her brood Cleaving through drifts of willow blossom and of scum To reach the river before the threatening raid.

Any more memories of the Rhea to share with readers? Write and let me know at memory.lane@oxfordmail.co.uk

Memory Lane this week


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