The First Combined Swimming and Open Water Course: When Coaches Learn to Trust the Ocean

Standing at the water's edge in Bali, I heard the sound of waves breaking before I saw anyone. On the morning of August 3, a group of young coaches stood in a circle on the beach, silently looking out at the sea. They were not preparing to compete. They came to learn how to teach others to swim in an environment where the surface has no lane ropes, no pool wall, and no stopping point except the shore. This was World Aquatics' first international youth coach course combining swimming and open water swimming. Over eight days, from August 3 to 10, twelve nationalities sat in the same classroom. No one timed anyone. No scoreboard was hung. But something was still being measured, only in a different way — a way I will describe later. The course ran under World Aquatics' tiered certification system: Age Group Coach, Youth Coach, and Performance Coach. The Youth Coach tier is for those who train young athletes, the group seen as the foundation of swimming's future. Seventeen scholarships were granted. That number matters not because it is large, but because it signals an intent to widen the coaching base beyond wealthy federations. The technical lead was Mel Tantrum, head coach of the Australian national Paralympic swimming team and the lead developer of World Aquatics' open water coaches certification courses. What is notable is not that another course exists. It is that two disciplines once taught separately are now merged into one program. Pool swimming and open water swimming share a technical foundation, but differ almost entirely in physiology, tactics, and safety. A strong pool coach may not know how to teach swimmers pack swimming, drafting, mid-race feeding, or sighting in open water. Conversely, an open water coach may lack the groundwork in season planning and session design for young athletes. The gap lies between those two areas of expertise. From a Vietnamese sport perspective, this story deserves a longer look. Open water swimming here remains a small scene, mostly tied to amateur events and a few sea-based disciplines. The number of coaches properly trained in open water can almost be counted on one hand. So how an international body builds a program to train the trainers is also a hint about where we need to begin. The program is built on a blended learning model. The classroom theory centers on athlete-centered coaching, long-term athlete development, season planning, session design, communication, and building positive learning environments. Students then move into practical sessions in the water and on the sea. An online learning platform called CORAL is also integrated, allowing theory to take place remotely before students gather. This is a model that can scale at low marginal cost — important for developing federations, where sending people to train in person is expensive. The sea practicals are the real differentiator. Coaches learn how to teach pack swimming, drafting, feeding, and beach or in-water start technique. These are skills a pool course cannot convey, because they only exist when there are waves, currents, and real distance between swimmer and shore. Based on my observation, what Tantrum called the standout was the speed at which students' confidence grew when they ran an ocean session themselves. At first came hesitant steps on wet sand, quiet voices, eyes repeatedly checking toward the instructor. After a few days, voices grew clearer, gestures more decisive, and instructions were given without needing a confirming glance. Safety and risk management were among the emphasized topics. This makes sense when we remember that open water swimming takes place in an uncontrolled environment: currents, temperature, waves, and distance from shore. A coach not properly trained in risk could push swimmers into dangerous situations without realizing it. Elevating safety to a course highlight shows that part of the program's motivation comes from responsibility and liability: federations increasingly require open water certification as a condition for sanctioning events. The only quantifiable figure in the entire event is satisfaction. Of 18 evaluation responses, 94% said the course exceeded expectations. Satisfaction with lecturers and with classroom sessions was equal. This is a positive signal, but it must be read carefully. The sample is only 18 people, self-selected, and mostly from scholarship places. When cost is no longer a barrier, positive sentiment tends to be inflated above reality. A 94% figure that is flat and uniformly high across both categories is also a sign of a carefully curated cohort, not necessarily proof of superior quality. More telling is the feedback requesting improvement. Students asked for more practical sessions, more race simulations, more real-life coaching scenarios, and more discussion time. This is a constructive signal: the practical component was valued but undersupplied relative to demand. It also suggests the first edition leaned toward theory more than learners' appetites — a common feature of first-run blended courses. In essence, this is an event at the system-development layer, not the competition layer. It produces no medals, no qualifying places, no prize money. It produces coaches — who will produce athletes. Its value only appears years later, when these students apply open water knowledge to their programs. In swimming's talent supply chain, this is the link farthest from competitive results, yet the one that decides the depth of the whole system. What is easily overlooked is the gap between claim and evidence. The event release implies the course is raising coaching standards globally. But the only thing measured is satisfaction. There is no independent assessment, no longitudinal follow-up, no data on how students changed their coaching after returning. The program's own material admits that the ultimate measure is what coaches take back to their athletes and programs — yet that measure has not been reported. In other words, the program asked the right question, it just has not answered it. From another angle, merging pool and open water into a single certification may be a strategic move to expand the coaching base in developing federations, where open water infrastructure is still young. The message that "no single country or system has all the answers" is a diplomatic signal that World Aquatics is deliberately decentralizing expertise rather than anchoring it in one nation. But Australia's technical influence in open water remains clear through Tantrum's dual role: leading the Paralympic team while developing the certification. It is a reverse flow — exporting Australian expertise into a global standard. The unresolved issue is certification mobility. Would a certificate issued in Bali be recognized by another national federation? The material does not say. This is an open governance detail, and it could become a barrier as the program scales. It is also worth facing one reality: this is the first edition of a combined format. No one yet knows whether it will be sustained, expanded, or quietly stopped after a few runs. Novelty is the story's appeal, but it is also its weakness when held up for evaluation. In the emptiness of an audience-less morning by the sea, I heard more clearly the breathing of those learning the trade of teaching swimming. They raced no one. They were learning to pass on a survival skill. Swimming is changing from within, at the level of the teacher, slowly and quietly. If these coaches go home and teach their swimmers to trust the ocean rather than fear it, then that first course will have done something no medal can measure.