‘They call me Captain Killjoy’: working as a lifeguard in badly behaved Britain
I became a lifeguard at a holiday park nine years ago. At first, the responsibility was scary, but over time my confidence grew. It definitely comes with challenges, especially when you see people doing silly and dangerous things. I always joke that when people go on holiday, they leave their brains at home.
Before the pandemic, there was more respect and gratitude for our services. On one occasion, I saw a woman fall and injure her spine, so I held her head still for hours until the ambulance arrived. People were putting suncream on my back and helping me to sip water because I couldn’t move. She made a full recovery and her family came to thank me the next day.
Fast-forward a few years and things are very different. During the lockdowns, we saw a rise in people who would normally go abroad visiting holiday parks instead. Many of them were rude and aggressive and hated the safety restrictions. One group barged through the “closed” signs to get to the showers, despite being warned that they weren’t allowed to use them. During the height of the restrictions, people were asked to wear masks around the pool when they weren’t swimming. Many refused and swore at us if we asked them to put one on.
Restrictions have lifted, but the entitled behaviour has continued, especially with regard to safety protocols. We are required by law to have a certain ratio of adults to children in the pool. But parents often try to leave their children unattended, expecting the lifeguards to be a free babysitting service. One parent wanted to come in with seven children. When I told him it wasn’t possible, he got angry and asked: “Do you know how much money I’m spending at this park?” I had to tell him it was irrelevant.
On another occasion, we had to evacuate the pool because the lighting went out. Someone asked why; when I explained it was for safety reasons, he told me to fuck off. Last year, I kicked a group of young lads out for dive-bombing, so they spent the rest of the day calling reception and leaving abusive messages.
Many guests don’t take the role of lifeguard seriously. I have been accused of “sitting around staring at the water” when, in reality, I’m constantly on the lookout for potentially dangerous circumstances. When I have had to intervene, people have called me names including “Captain Killjoy”.
Recently, a toddler fell in the pool when her family wasn’t looking. My colleague rescued her immediately, but the family didn’t thank him. Instead, they spent the next hour arguing about why they had to fill in an incident report. When I recommended that they take her to the minor injuries unit, due to the risk of secondary drowning, which can affect children hours after they ingest water, they seemed annoyed by the idea of taking time out from their holiday.
Bad behaviour isn’t limited to one group of people. I see it from men and women, across a wide range of backgrounds. I think people got so fed up with following regulations during the pandemic that they stopped respecting authority. It didn’t help when politicians ignored restrictions because it made others feel the rules shouldn’t apply to them either. Guests also sometimes think that because they are on holiday, the usual behavioural protocols don’t apply.
I think people are angrier and less tolerant than they have ever been. The cost of living isn’t helping; I expect these verbally abusive outbursts will only continue. I just wish that people could understand that the rules are in place to protect them.
