Imagine you’re lying on an inflatable lilo, fingers and toes dangling in warm, rippling water. It’s almost dusk and the early evening calm is shattered by a piercing scream. Suddenly a great white shark appears, mouth agape with enormous, monstrous teeth. Nearby swimmers who were quietly chatting a moment ago are now flailing in terror.
You’re at Aquamoves pool in Shepparton, central Victoria, watching Jaws while paddling in the pool at their dive-in movie night.
Dive-ins are a time-honoured tradition in landlocked Australia, where residents can’t easily access what much of the nation takes for granted on a hot summer day: proximity to the coast or an air-conditioned cinema. From Berridale in the Snowy Mountains to Blackheath in the Blue Mountains, for a little more than the price of a regular swim, locals get to watch a movie on a screen next to the pool while they splash, bob or float.
Aquatic summer movie nights are popular in parts of Queensland, New South Wales, Victoria and South Australia, including at regional university campuses and water theme parks. Often, as in Shepparton, the film screened has some connection to the sea, water or swimming. Think Penguins of Madagascar, Finding Dory or Moana.
My first experience of a dive-in was as an adult at Mount Druitt in western Sydney during the January school holidays. I had scheduled an evening catch-up with old friends in the area, and their kids had insisted we go to the local pool. As night fell, Lightyear, an origin myth of the Buzz Lightyear character from the Toy Story franchise, was projected on to a large screen at the end of the Olympic pool. For the next hour and 45 minutes, parents and children relaxed in inflatable unicorns, sat poolside and picnicked, or bombed and giggled during the boring bits.
The kids’ excitement, like mine, was apportioned between the pool and Lightyear, and we applauded wildly with pruny fingers as the credits rolled.
Dive-ins harness many of the best things about Australian summers: balmy evenings, the relief of a refreshing dip, and the novelty (for children) of being able to stay up later than normal because it’s school holidays. Add into the mix icy poles, hot chips and colourful beach toys, and it’s a perfect night of family entertainment.
Many Australians who experienced dive-ins as kids carry nostalgic memories into adulthood. Thirtysomething Angus Roth grew up in Canberra and was a regular at the Big Splash water park dive-ins in the early 90s. He continued the tradition by taking his two kids to wet screenings. He associates some of his favourite Pixar movies with “the smell of chlorine” and says he “loved the free-range nature of the evenings where the usual rules of ‘sit down and be quiet’ didn’t apply”.
A hint of anarchy pervades the best dive-in experiences. The managers of Aquamoves pool in Shepparton recognised this and showed terrifying genius in programming Jaws to a floating audience in 2019. It was such a hit that swimmers plunged back into shark-infested cinematic waters a year later to see Blake Lively pursued by a great white in The Shallows.
Bikash Randhawa, the chief operating officer at Village Roadshow Theme Parks, agrees the best dive-in evenings combine fun with a sense of occasion. At the Wet’n’Wild water park in Oxenford in Queensland’s Gold Coast, the park’s “giant wave pool transforms into a floating cinema featuring a 45 metre squared screen”. Swimmers can watch blockbuster films from an inner tube, a deck chair or while barrelling down a slide. Is there a better way to watch Aquaman?
Dive-ins are also a much-loved institution at Waterworld Aquatic Centre in Ridgehaven, South Australia. They host one screening in January and another in February, often with a theme. When Barbie screened, kids and grownups donned hot pink bathers and lurid accessories to channel their inner Barbie and Ken, while their “Splash for a cure” dive-in for The Incredibles brought staff and patrons out in spandex and capes to raise funds for the Leukemia Foundation.
Combining two great December Aussie traditions – carols by candlelight and a trip to the local pool – Waterworld livestreams carols from nearby Civic Park every Christmas. Reindeer headbands remain obligatory and Santa makes a guest appearance.
Dive-in sessions don’t always end when summer nights are over. The University of Newcastle’s Students Association holds a free winter dive-in July at the heated pool at its Callaghan campus as part of its midyear welcome back week. The movies play second fiddle to selfies, socialising and flirting, and unlike dive-ins at municipal pools, films don’t have to be family friendly. At a screening of Wonka, steam from the indoor pool misted up the screen, but no one seemed to mind.
Not to be outdone, Griffith University in Queensland presents its dive-in at the Mount Gravatt campus at the start of the academic year. A giant inflatable screen commands pride of place; popcorn, fairy floss and snow cones are on the house, and students are encouraged to come in costume or in their cossies. Psychology student Abbie Chen says “watching a Hunger Games movie in a floating inflatable doughnut was fun and pretty surreal, and the silliness of the evening brings people together”.
For Jen Curtis, a farmer who lives in Victoria’s central highlands wine country, a movie at the local pool brings respite from the summer heat and is a welcome distraction from physical labour. But more importantly, she says: “It’s about connection, making our own fun, and looking after each other.”
Nostalgia, community, dress-up or just relief from the heat, there are so many reasons to dive in.
Swimming Sydney: A Tale of 52 Swims by Chris Baker is out now ($32.99, NewSouth)
