Your Guide to NYC Public Pools | Dive In

The McCarren Park Pool conveniently reopened during my second summer in New York, one that was most notably marked by three months of convenient yet debilitating unemployment. I decided to take a day off of my grueling job search and have a little “me” time.. which kind of just meant time away from the cat which as you would imagine, was fine with him. I packed up some strawberries, a thermos of shit wine, a novel and book of poems, a notebook, pen, water, phone, towel, and sunscreen, and happily flip-flopped my way three blocks to the pool. It was opening day after 5 years of public pool drought in the neighborhood. My spirits dropped as I crossed in front of the pool, then around the corner, then around another corner and down two blocks before I found the end of the line. “No problem,” I inhaled, and then quickly convinced myself it would move quickly.

Nearly two hours later I finally approached the front of the line. “Let me see your lock,” the woman barked at me, without making eye contact.

“Sorry, what?” I asked.

“You need a lock to enter. For the locker room,” she responded flatly.

“Oh, no, it’s ok, I’ll just keep all of this with me,” I told her.

“It’s not allowed,” she told me.

“What’s not allowed?” I asked.

She looked into my bag, audibly exasperated enough for me to know not to mention that it felt like a violation of privacy. “No food, no books, no phone, no hats, no drinks. And out on the pool deck, no shoes, no sunglasses, no sunscreen…”

I took a moment to silently scoff at the euphemism. A pool deck that is not. Let’s try ‘concrete slab’ next time, huh sweetheart?

“And if you plan to wear something over your swimsuit, it needs to be solid white,” she finished, shooing me aside and motioning for the next patron who I desperately hoped didn’t know all of these rules.

They passed through with ease.

Great, I thought. My unemployed ass can’t even succeed in being accepted into the public pool.

Since that incident, I’ve learned the rules and the ways of the pools in this place. Let me guide you to and through all the best pools in town. I’ll show you what to bring and not bring, when to go and which ones to avoid, and the ones you can usually sneak rosé into. Because they can take our books, our printed fabrics, they can take our skin protection and our dignity, but not our rosé. They will not take our rose.

Bring a lock.

Apply sunscreen before you leave your apartment.

No food, phones, drinks, books, head coverings, games, flotation devices, gum chewing, nothing. Just you, your bathing suit and towel. Yes, they will watch you rinse yourself in the showers before exiting the locker room. Yes, they will shake your towel out. Yes, you must comply.

If you wear a T-shirt it must be plain white. Because trust me, everyone there at the public pool looks like a wet T-shirt contest contender… and thus now are you too.

All pools shut down from 3-4pm. I don’t know why nor will I ever ask for information. “General maintenance” will do. Just plan your visit around these times.

This expansive public pool in Greenpoint was originally built in 1936 ad was the largest in the city at that time. It closed from 1984 to 2005, and then  reopened as a concrete-filled venue for 7 years during which they held some fucking awesome concerts. Now it’s a pool again with a bunch of hooligans and don’t think you’re above that. One big Olympic size pool and concrete risers for optimistic sunbathers. I won’t tell you if there are lounge chairs or not because you will never get one. Listen to me. You’ll never get one.

This pool is somehow hidden in plain sight. Located across from the Navy Yard, I was first struck by a bold quote I saw emblazoned upon its brick walls as I was sipping wine well above the deep end at Rooftop Reds. “A suitable recompense may always attend your bravery”. Sweet Jesus that made me feel alive, immediately, and also curious. What was this pool? And why this quote?

I came to find out that the quote, the pool, and the park were all thanks to Commodore John Barry; a man known as the Father of the US Navy and also founded the Brooklyn Navy Yard in 1801. YEAH. That at least should keep you afloat. This pool somehow is rarely crowded and that lack of necessary diligence permeates into a deeper layer of apathy amongst its lifeguards. What I’m saying is I always sneak rosé onto the “pool deck” so perhaps you can too. Just don’t ruin it for everyone, ok? And also you didn’t hear any of this from me. It’s on Flushing. You’re on your own from there.

New Yorkers love anything that’s a pop-up. In a city where everything feels elusive, that accelerated scarcity puts a fire under our already emblazoned asses. And if it’s any sort of immersive pop-up? Well I’m just surprised you’re still reading this. This charming little pool will be here all summer and even though I’m letting you know it’s there, you’ll still be surprised. When you arrive, they’ll give you a wristband and a 30-min time slot. Chill on the pop-up beach while you wait. Sip on a boozy Lizmonade and look at the city skyline. Feel like a million dollars. Then dive in and splash around with no more than 15 others while overlooking the skyline. This is living. This is New York. 150 Furman St. Pop-in here first, or just trust me.

The pool with the most going on, by far. Nestled scenically in the shadow of the Triborough Bridge, access to this seemingly sacred area alone makes you feel like it’s all yours. There’s a gentle slope into the Olympic sized pool that lets you pretend like you’re at the beach. There are fountains to play in. There are plenty of graduated concrete slabs for sunning. There are a plethora of ice cream men circling constantly ready to cool you down. Go. Then get Greek food, or any food in Astoria. 19th St and 23rd Dr,  which makes a lot more sense once you’re up there. Any other info you may need to know is here.

Remember hearing so much about the floating pool they want to put in the East River and being just the perfect mix of excited and disgusted that you decided not to donate to their Kickstarter and just decide how you felt if it ever got built? Well surprise, we already have a floating pool. Yeah. We do. And it’s way the fuck up North, across from not-so-tropical Ryker’s Island. So it doesn’t filter water from the River; it’s situated on a barge (not unlike this awesome one in Baltimore) and offers amazing views of the city. Go. Swim in the East River for the first time, or the last. Tiffany St and Viele Ave, info here.