Spinning Bowl Swimming Pool

It looks like a giant fishbowl, only squatter, supported at its base over a larger pool, and it’s one third filled with water. We’re about ten kids that climb in and horse around and look out at the people waiting in line, through the hard, clear plastic. The real fun starts when the bowl starts spinning, first slowly and then faster and faster. The bowl’s wavy inner surface catches some of the water and puts it into motion, and centrifugal force pulls it and some of us up towards the sides.

It’s like a whirlpool in reverse; soon everybody’s drawn up and out to a perimeter ribbon of water, swirling in the air. I try to half stand, half squat in the G-forces, horizontal to the spectators, and the water that hasn’t yet gotten up to speed flows by me with its human cargo like a rain-swollen stream.

The ride is just starting. Now the bowl begins to tilt, slowly to keep its wet contents contained in its oval cross section. Soon it’s standing vertical, and I’m floating in the water, watching another swimmer on the other side of the bowl, sometimes over me, sometimes under me. When I think we’ve had enough, the orb continues to tilt until finally it’s upside-down. I feel a little dizzy when I look down through the open hole at the whirling pool beneath us.

Finally the bowl slows abruptly and it’s just we and the water still held in a gyrating limbo. As the water decelerates, it starts pouring out “over” the edge, and finally my fishbowl fellows and I reluctantly also slide down to be flung outwards into the pool below. When my inner ear has caught up, I rush to the end of the line again.