The Best Gifts for Swimmers

Bluetooth doesn't work underwater, and that's the whole story. Radio at 2.4GHz dies within a few centimeters of water, which is why regular earbuds are useless in a pool. Bone conduction sidesteps the problem by vibrating sound through the cheekbones instead. The OpenSwim Pro stores music on board — 32GB of it — so nothing has to travel from a phone at all.

The rating matters more than it sounds. IP68 here means submersion to two meters for two hours, so it covers a full masters practice, not just splashes. It also survives the accidental stuff: a pair forgotten in a wet bag, a rinse under the tap. Swimmers who get in four or five times a week report it holding up through steady chlorine exposure.

It plays nicely with the rest of the kit. The band tucks under a swim cap and behind goggle straps without fighting either, which sounds trivial until you've worn gear that doesn't. Battery runs about nine hours, so you're not handing someone a nightly charging chore. And on land it switches to Bluetooth for runs and walks, which widens who this suits.

It unwraps well, too. That matters more for a gift than for a purchase. The concept is easy to explain across a kitchen table, and your recipient doesn't have to make a single decision about fit, size or lens tint. Anyone who swims laps will understand what it's for within about five seconds of opening the box.

Flaws but not dealbreakers

Setup is the weak point. Loading music means plugging into a computer and dragging files over, and switching between MP3 and Bluetooth mode trips people up — enough owners have fumbled it that the company's app now handles the toggle. If your recipient isn't comfortable with that, plan on sitting down with them once.

Sound underwater is good, not great. It's bassy in the water and thin in the air, and it won't satisfy anyone who cares deeply about audio quality. Water in the ears actually improves it, oddly enough, and some swimmers add earplugs for the same reason. That's a bit of a fiddle.

It's bulky, it's heavy, and it looks like a piece of serious equipment — which is exactly right for someone who swims in a lake in the middle of winter. The outer shell is properly waterproof rather than water-resistant, the lining is thick fleece, and the whole thing is cut deliberately huge so a wetsuit can come off underneath it without anyone seeing anything.

Cold water swimming has gone mainstream, and the miserable part isn't the swim. It's the stretch afterward, when your body keeps shedding heat while you fumble with cold fingers and a damp towel. A robe shortens that considerably, which is why open water clubs are full of them and why the brand's robes have been picked up by national squads, including the British and Australian teams.

The details are thought through. There's an A4-sized internal pocket for a phone and dry clothes, a zipped phone pocket with an opening for headphones, and a fleece-lined outer pocket for hands. Velcro cuffs cinch at the wrists so wind doesn't drive up the sleeves. It doubles as a spectator coat, too — swim parents on cold pool decks end up living in theirs.

It's the rare present that removes an actual problem. Changing behind a car door in a gale is genuinely unpleasant, and most swimmers just put up with it for years because a proper robe feels indulgent. Handing them one skips that whole argument with themselves. That's the ideal shape for a gift: obviously useful, and something they'd never quite justify buying.

Flaws but not dealbreakers

Sizing takes thought. The robe is meant to be oversized so a wetsuit comes off inside it, which means it swamps some people who only want a warm coat. If your recipient mainly wants it for standing around on a cold deck, going a size down is the safer call. Check the brand's size guide before you order.

It's bulky and heavy, so it eats a lot of trunk space and it's not something anyone casually packs for a trip. The branding is loud — big logos front and back — and a few owners would happily pay for a plain version. Washing is fussy too: cool cycle, no fabric softener, hang to dry.

Walk onto any college pool deck and you'll spot these. The Vanquisher is a fixture, and the reason is boring: it fits a lot of faces, it doesn't dig in, and the low-profile shape sits close to the eye socket instead of sticking out into the water. Swimmers who go through several pairs a year keep coming back to the same model rather than experimenting.

Mirrored lenses are the right call for anyone who swims outdoors. In an outdoor pool at noon or a lake at sunrise, glare off the surface is what ruins the session. The mirror coating cuts it down and the lens blocks UVA and UVB. Indoors they run a little dark, so keep that in mind if your swimmer trains at 5 a.m. under weak fluorescent lights.

For gifting, the risk is about as low as it gets. There's no size to guess, the strap adjusts in seconds with wet hands, and if the fit is wrong on their face it's not a painful mistake. Owners typically get a few months of hard use before the strap goes or the lens clouds. That's normal for competition goggles, and part of why swimmers buy them in multiples.

Flaws but not dealbreakers

Goggles are personal, and no model seals on everyone. The Vanquisher's gasket is thin and firm rather than plush, and a minority of swimmers get leaks or find it presses too hard around the eye socket over a long session. If your recipient is already loyal to a brand, the safe move is more of that.

They're a consumable, not an heirloom. Anti-fog coating wears off, lenses eventually cloud, straps snap. Expect months, not years.

Wet gear separation is the entire point. A swimsuit dropped into a normal gym bag makes everything around it damp and, within a couple of days, sour. This bag has a ventilated front compartment built for exactly that job. A swim-industry buyer survey found most competitive swimmers carry a dedicated swim pack over a standard gym bag, and isolating wet gear was the top reason they gave.

The build holds up to being thrown around. The shell is abrasion-resistant, the main zippers are YKK, and there are webbing loops and a D-ring on the side panels for clipping on sandals, a bottle or a meet tag. Parents report a year or more of near-daily use without a tear, which is the bar for something that lives on a wet tile floor.

35 liters is sized for a swimmer, not a hiker. It swallows a towel, two suits, the small gear, a laptop and a change of clothes for school afterward. Go bigger and it becomes a nuisance on a bike or in a crowded locker room. Go smaller and they're carrying a second bag on meet days, which defeats the point entirely.

Flaws but not dealbreakers

The pocket layout divides people. There's one big main compartment and several thin side pockets, and swimmers who want a dedicated slot for everything find it under-organized. A few owners have also had trouble with the top zipper. Neither problem is widespread, but they're the complaints that come up.

It's not a sealed wet bag. The front pocket vents, which helps things dry out, but a soaking suit will still push a little moisture through on a long drive home. A separate mesh or plastic pouch inside solves it.