About an hour into my first-ever encounter with the world of Mermaiding, a woman swimming nearby approached and asked if she could interrupt. “I just wanted to say—it’s so beautiful,” she said. “I’d love to try it someday.”
Tal Golan, Israel’s own real-life mermaid, thanked her for the compliment and launched into a brief explanation of the sport, offering some quick tips. It was clear she’s used to being an ambassador for her unique discipline—swimming with a large, colorful monofin from the waist down.
That’s part of the job when you pick a sport few people in the country have even heard of, let alone recognize as a sport. I certainly didn’t.
Until I met Tal, I assumed Mermaiding was just a whimsical excuse for colorful photoshoots—or a passing trend aimed at making people my age feel out of touch. But this Saturday, Wolfsburg, Germany, will host the Merlympics—the official world championship of Mermaiding—featuring around 100 athletes from across the globe, including six from Israel.
Golan, 24, from Tel Aviv, is among them. As she prepped for her morning workout at Tel Aviv University’s sports center, she explained what’s ahead in the competition. It turns out I could fill the Olympic pool beside us with everything I didn’t know about the sport.
The championship includes five different categories, more closely aligned with swimming and diving than fairy tales about half-fish women luring sailors to their doom.
And yes, the drowning victim is a real person—meaning someone in Germany will soon be able to add “professional drowning dummy” to their résumé.
A major component is the solo routine, similar to rhythmic gymnastics or figure skating. There’s a checklist of required moves—spins, dives, and underwater twists—but creativity and personal style also count.
All this, of course, must be performed gracefully. To judge these routines, officials rely on a live feed from cameras placed throughout the pool. It might make more sense to seat the judges behind the glass wall of a giant aquarium but maybe next time. It’s still a young sport.
And if the schedule sounds exhausting, keep in mind: the tail alone can weigh up to 20 kilograms (44 pounds).
How does someone even get into Mermaiding?
“Before my military service, I was a bored pre-recruit who saw a Facebook post about it,” Tal said. “Until then, I wasn’t really into sports. I wasn’t one of those girls who wake up to run or go to Pilates—and even now, six years in, it’s still hard sometimes.
“I’m a student at the Levinsky-Wingate Academic Center studying music education, so on some days I’m in class from 9 a.m. to 8 p.m.—then I still have to train afterward.”
“But the moment I hit the water, everything else disappears. There’s something very healing about it. That goes for kids or anyone going through therapy. Whether they swim with us or just watch, I think it spreads optimism.
“Once, during practice, a mother came up to me and said her low-functioning child hadn’t smiled or laughed in three weeks — but as soon as he saw me in the tail, he calmed down. She asked if we could take a photo together.”
Tal’s presence at the pool draws attention even before her tail hits the water. She arrives at 7 a.m. with the biggest bag you’ve ever seen, pulls out all the components of her elaborate tail and carefully plans how to climb into it.
Because once she’s in, she can only get to the water by scooting along the ground. At one point, the photographer asked her to shift a few feet to the right and I finally understood the phrase “like a fish out of water.”
To her credit, Tal’s heard all the jokes. She’s been called a cannibal for eating sushi and every army kitchen duty seemed to include a commander cracking a fish-and-chips joke.
“Usually people think it’s cool,” she said. “The tail looks strange out of water but once I’m swimming, a lot of people come over to ask if it’s a new swim training device they haven’t heard of.
“A lot of reactions are just curiosity—it’s something new. I mean, if an alien landed here, I’m not sure they’d find swimming with a fin weirder than two people hitting a ball over a net.”
Tal may have a point. Around the world, the sport is growing fast. New Mermaiding communities are emerging and some mermaids are already being seen as role models. It might take a while before tennis looks less strange to aliens than Mermaiding—but the passion of athletes like Tal could speed things up.
