My Dive into the World Diving Chess Championships

My Dive into the World Diving Chess Championships

Three weeks ago, I took a literal plunge into one of the most unusual sporting events on the planet: the World Diving Chess Championships. Chess, the game of kings, combined with diving, a sport of breath control and aquatic precision. Why would anyone blend these two seemingly unrelated activities? The answer may not be immediately obvious, but after experiencing it firsthand, I can confidently say that it’s an exhilarating, unique twist on chess, and I wholeheartedly recommend it.

Here is a video of some live footage with commentary from myself of a round 3 match between two diving chess champs. An awesome game between the two of them! 

Round Three coverage of the diving chess championships! 

Picture this: a cold, damp Sunday evening in central London. A hotel with a small spa opens its doors to an event unlike any other. Inside, a medium-sized swimming pool—barely large enough for 20 people—transforms into an aquatic arena for the World Diving Chess Championships. Here, chess players, equipped not just with strategic minds but also strong lungs, gather to compete in this bizarre yet fascinating hybrid sport. As someone who’s no stranger to unusual chess formats, thanks to my 3 fights of experience in Chessboxing, I knew I had to give this a try.

Quick Q&A: Diving Chess Explained

What exactly is diving chess?
It’s a hybrid sport where you play chess underwater. Kind of says it on the tin really...

How do the rules work?
Each player takes turns diving underwater to make a move on a submerged chessboard. When it’s your turn to dive, you must make a legal chess move before resurfacing for air. Fail to do so, and you get a yellow card. A second time - You forfeit the match.

How do the chess pieces stay in place?
The sets are made of heavy metal, with magnetized pieces that stick to the board, preventing them from drifting away. Captured pieces are placed to the side—something I learned the hard way when I forgot to remove a piece during my first match!

How deep is the chessboard underwater?
The pool was about 1.2 meters (just under 4 feet) deep, so not too far down.

What if someone drowns?
Rest assured, there’s a lifeguard stationed poolside for safety, though the likelihood of drowning is slim. 

How do you stay underwater?
There are a few tricks. I learned, albeit on the night, to jump up before diving down, using a swishing hand movement to maintain my position beneath the surface.

Having hastily assembled my gear from a 'Sports Direct' that day, I was ready for the competition. The poolside was buzzing with eleven other competitors - an eclectic mix. Among them were four fellow chessboxers, eager to explore this new frontier. Two had travelled all the way from Germany, having rigorously trained for the event. Others hailed from Bristol, Edinburgh, and beyond, all driven by curiosity to experience this eccentric blend of strategy and stamina. The front-runners included a board game generalist, boasting 2000+ FIDE chess rating, fresh from the Mindsports Olympiad. There was a former world diving chess champion boasting a colossal 2122 FIDE blitz rating. And then, of course, there was the reigning champion, Michal Mazurkiewicz, a Polish Chess Master with the remarkable ability to hold his breath for over three minutes. If breathing had an ELO rating, Michal would be a towering 3000, while my asthmatic lungs would barely muster a 500. My maximum? 20 seconds, on a good day.

Our arbiter, Etan, casually dressed in a spa robe, explained the rules, emphasizing the usual “no pinching, no biting” stipulations. The tournament was structured as a four-round Swiss system.

Game 1: A Battle of the Lungs and Mind

My first opponent was another chessboxer - a formidable, dashingly handsome man (he bribed me to say that). We’d played over-the-board (OTB) chess a few times before, and I knew he wasn’t to be underestimated. His speed and aggressive playstyle gave him a natural edge in this format, where time (and breath) were of the essence.

The game began with promise. I emerged from the opening with a small advantage, feeling cautiously optimistic. But my opponent wasn’t going to go down without a fight. In a flash, he unleashed a vicious tactical strike, sacrificing a bishop to rip open my kingside defenses. My king was exposed, flailing amidst the sudden onslaught. Desperately, I rallied my pieces to defend the helpless monarch, holding off his attacks as the underwater countdown ticked in my favor. Each dive felt like an eternity.

Then, as if gasping for one final assault, my opponent launched his queen and knight into a relentless attack. Cornered and on the brink of defeat, I managed to initiate a counter-offensive, delivering a series of checks that allowed me to regain control. With my opponent running out of air - both literally and figuratively - I won a knight and gradually turned the tables. His queen’s futile checks were soon neutralized, and I emerged with a winning position, up a full rook.

But in this sport, victory is never straightforward. Just as I was pushing my passed pawn toward promotion, disaster struck. Where was my queen? In the chaos of the battle, I couldn’t find her on the side of the board. Panic set in as I frantically searched the pool, swimming in circles. With no time left, I settled for promoting to a rook - enough to force a draw but not the victory I had hoped for. To my relief, my opponent, in an act of pure chivalry, paused the game. “Shall we look for your queen?” he asked. After retrieving my lost piece, I managed to checkmate him with ease securing my first-ever victory in this aquatic arena.

A brief moment that was captured of me playing this game on the white side.

1/1

Game 2: I Wish I Had Magnus Carlsen to Help Me...

Round two paired me against one of the tournament’s favorites, a strong 2000+ FIDE player. Determined to shake things up, I played the Englund Gambit - an aggressive opening, perfect for a fast-paced format. It worked like a charm, and after a handful of moves, I had a promising position. My pieces swarmed his kingside like water bursting through a dam. Just as I thought I had him, he found the one move that kept him in the game, and my attack fizzled. Despite my early advantage, we ended up in a drawn rook endgame. Sometimes, even in diving chess, you wish you had the endgame prowess of Magnus Carlsen.

1.5/2

Game 3: Calculation is Hard Underwater

In round three, I faced one of the traveling Germans. He had just finished a grueling 1-hour marathon match (no exaggeration) against a former champion, and I hoped to capitalize on his fatigue. The opening went well, and I managed to secure an edge. But as the game progressed, I struggled to formulate a concrete plan while holding my breath. In a moment of blindness, I missed a quiet pawn move that opened up his sniper bishop diagonal, and I lost a knight. From there, it was an uphill battle, and my opponent’s steady play left me with no way back. I had to concede defeat.

1.5/3

Game 4: No Pressure, No Problem

With no chance of winning the tournament, I entered the final round with nothing to lose. My opponent, another chessboxer, had scored 0/3, so it seemed like an easy match on paper. But in diving chess, nothing is easy. She played aggressively, opening up my king’s position early. For the first time in the tournament, I found myself on the defensive, struggling to keep my pieces coordinated. Just when all hope seemed lost, my opponent blundered a critical pawn, and I seized the opportunity. A few exchanges later, I had a commanding position, and my opponent resigned.

2.5/4

Conclusion

I was thrilled with my performance—going into this competition with low expectations and emerging with over 50% was a huge personal victory. Diving chess is not just a novelty; it’s a challenging, fast-paced, and utterly unique way to test your chess skills. The combination of strategy and physical endurance creates an experience unlike any other, pushing players to their mental and physical limits. Whether you’re a seasoned chess player or someone looking for an unusual challenge, diving chess offers a fresh perspective on the game we love. If you ever get the chance, I highly recommend taking the plunge.

The podium! Well done to Alex Freeland my round 2 opponent!

Thank you to all the help from the Mindsports Olympiad who kindly provided the footage to myself in order to make my commentary video. If you want to learn how you can take part in the next world championships, you can find all of the information here - https://mindsportsolympiad.com/ - Check them out if you want to find out more about all the amazing activities that they do.