Robin Cravey is an extraordinary man — a wills and estates attorney and a lifelong poet of nature, his world, politics, and life.  He has also been an activist, both environmental and political,  and a community organizer.  But even more, he became an Austin hero when he saved a pool. 

Twenty years ago this year, Robin spearheaded the organization that would renovate Barton Springs Pool, three acres of fresh spring water carved into a limestone bed in South Austin.  This pool is one of the crown jewels, if not the crown jewel, of our city.

Barton Springs is well-known beyond our parts — visitors from around the world come to marvel at its natural beauty.  For us natives, it’s a treat or an occasional swim or part of an everyday exercise routine.  Most mornings, you can spy swimmers traversing the pool’s length, beginning their day with a mile or so of laps.  And on a summer afternoon, it’s a perfect place to cool down with its average water temperature of 68-70 degrees.

As a kid in the 1950s and 60s, I treasured Barton Springs as an idyllic place.  It exuded an air of mystery from my vantage point in the shallow end with the amazing pool stretching out in front of me.  It was like an ocean with a diving board.

But an era ended when the pool was officially recognized as the habitat of the Barton Springs Salamander and listed as an endangered species in 1997.  I thought the salamander would be lizard-like, but it is actually a tiny creature that hides under rocks.  Invisible to most of us, its mere existence necessitated that changes be made.  

Previously, the City’s Parks and Recreation staff cleaned the pool once a week, removing the slime that made the pool bottom slippery, among other things.  With the “new” endangered species on site, the US Fish and Wildlife Department imposed new rules and banned the previous cleaning protocols, despite the fact that the salamander had apparently survived just fine with the cleanings, seems to me.  But pursuant to Fish and Wildlife orders, the Parks staff had to stop doing the things that made the pool hospitable to waders and swimmers.  

By 2005, the pool had reached a deplorable state, and Robin, a veteran  daily swimmer was finding that lapping across the pool was akin to swimming through spinach or green jello.  He decided to issue a call for action.  As a former city council aide and Austin Planning Commission member, he called upon his City of Austin contacts to bring this situation to their attention.

Meeting with city manager Toby Futrell, he described the pool’s condition — the overgrowth of algae, among other deteriorating aspects.  Futrell was concerned and instructed Parks staff to meet with pool  swimmers to see what could be done.  About 30 interested swimmers attended that meeting in December 2005, during which swimmers expressed their concerns — slimy bottom, overgrowing algae, a disappearing deep end — and the Parks  staff explained that they had been ordered to stop their previous cleaning methods because they might endanger the salamander,  Consequently, algae had been allowed to flourish and previously used cranes to scoop up the gravel and rocks in the deep end were no longer allowed.  The normal 12 feet of deep end was down to six feet or less.  And forget about the bobcats with rotary brushes for removing the slime in the shallow end of the pool!  The only permissible method of cleaning allowed would be people using push brooms to sweep the area.  Unfortunately, Parks staff told the group, they weren’t staffed with sufficient manpower to do that job. 

The solution, the swimmers were told, would be to organize a “friends”group which could enlist community manpower to do the job.  At the close of the meeting, Robin suggested that interested parties come join him at Flipnotics to talk about the suggestion. Only two other swimmers joined him, but none of the three, especially Robin, were discouraged.  The threesome talked about the concept and decided to call swimmers to another meeting they would hold in January 2006.

This time, about a dozen swimmers showed up and Robin led the discussion about forming a group of volunteers to clean the pool.  Such was the enthusiasm, they immediately began organizing — creating a name, discussing bylaws, electing officers, and creating a logo.  By March/April they had finalized a board of directors and officers.   As president, Robin stressed that the service director should be a virtual field marshal to lead the pool cleaning — so he enlisted Steve Barnick. Other members of the initial board for 2006-07 consisted of Holly Gillman, treasurer and finance chair, Susanne Mason, Bill Gammon and Robert Corbin.  Many others folks would volunteer to serve during the twenty years since.

The first cleaning occurred during spring break when the pool usually closed.  About 50 volunteers showed up to perform the following:

1. Scrub the pool bottom in the shallow end using the large push brooms given to the Friends by Parks staff. Volunteers would lean on the brooms pushing them through the water thereby creating a cloud of sediment and slime algae that was pushed up to the drain.
2. As for the algae floating on the water’s surface, the Parks staff also donated big nets for capturing the plant.  The pool cleaners emptied nets full of algae on the sidewalk and volunteers with wheelbarrows scooped it up and carted it off to the woods (where the Violet Crown trail is now) to dispose of it.  

The first pool cleaning impressed everybody and for awhile, the Friends cleaned once a week.  After the first summer, however, it was determined that monthly cleanings would keep the pool swimmable.  

The deep end with six feet of gravel presented another challenge.  Previously, the City scooped up rocks and gravel with a large crane positioned in the grass by the pool.  But that method was one of the casualties of the Fish and Wildlife permit and Parks staff had given up on their removal.  

Another way had to be found.  Sucking the bottom with hoses didn’t work well — many of the rocks were just too big.  To satisfy Fish and Wildlife, it would take another crane, stationed farther away to dredge the deep.  

With the results of the cleaning, the Friends developed credibility and before too long, Robin began hearing “You need to do this…and that” from swimmers and Parks staff.  Sometimes he would  arrive at the pool to swim and, before he could hit the water, he’d be besieged with the suggestions and or complaints of fellow-swimmers.

The complaints would come from the perennial naysayers who object to any changes.  For example, when the Friends installed an ADA compliant path for access from the south side of the pool, multiple complaints were lodged, most of little substance — they just didn’t like change. Some members of the Save Our Springs organization were against almost everything the Friends proposed, arguing that the pool needed to stay natural.  Obviously, they hadn’t been around to protest in the 1920s when the small batyrak swimming hole was dammed up to create the pool that we know and love today.

Undeterred by the naysayers, the Friends met regularly and compiled a list of what the City needed to do.  It included dam restoration, tree maintenance, and entrance renovation.  The pool house whose condition negated the concept that “a public building should be fit for the public” was included. It had been  built in 1947 and rarely touched since.

With their list in hand, Robin led the Friends’ board members around to city council members’ offices to garner support.  Success was theirs when the City approved a Barton Springs master plan and authorized $6 million for short term projects until the plan was completed with consultants Al Godfrey and Laurie Limbacher.  The council also supported the Friends with muscle power.  At a special “Council Cleans the Pool Day,” Mayor Lee Leffingwell, council members Mike Martinez, Jennifer Kim, Brewster McCracken, and representatives of Sheryl Cole and Betty Dunkerley pitched in to help.  Former mayor, Senator Kirk Watson also participated.  

For Robin, there are no plaques hung in his honor, but he says nothing is more gratifying than the fact that the organization he prodded and pulled into existence is still going strong and working to keep this beautiful water attraction clean and swimmable. The Friends of Barton Springs Pool is still holding cleaning days, many of which are sponsored by Austin companies who send their employees to be part of the crew, sharing Robin’s vision and determination to keep this city jewel from losing its luster.  Finally, the pool house renovations were completed and the facility reopened last year.  One more thing on Robin’s 20-year old list, done!

Mike Cannatti, who would follow Robin’s long stint as president of the Friends and carry the work forward describes his predecessor this way:  “He served as its president, pushed for the Master Plan, and generally acted like a medieval knight defending his moat from dragons, which in Austin are usually zoning laws and algae.”

In organizing the Friends of Barton Springs pool, this Austin hero created  a community of people to restore the pool to its rightful glory.  In this 20th year since its inception, Robin is justifiably happy and proud of his efforts.  

And no one is swimming in green jello anymore!  Yay, Robin!