Finding the Rescue: A Life in Water, Science, and Spirit

As both a medical professional dedicated to helping patients find a path to healing, and a member of the watershaping industry focused on providing systems that generate current in pools and lazy rivers, Denise Conchola de Tournillon has built a unique career, over the past 25 years, in which water is a unifying element.

By Dr. Denise Canchola de Tournillon, DNP

I often say that my story begins in the ocean, even though I was raised far from it. 

I earned my undergraduate degree in marine biology at Trinity University in San Antonio where I was a good student, curious and driven. I loved studying the ocean and for a time, I believed I would live my life in that discipline. Then came the realization, delivered with a certain blunt honesty, that I might spend my days in shorts and flip-flops, rich in experience but not in means.

That recognition set me on a different course. I went to Yale University, entering an accelerated three-year program that demanded I learn quickly, to stretch intellectually in ways that were both humbling and exhilarating. There I found my way into psychiatry and mental health, eventually becoming a psychiatric nurse practitioner. My training continued through residencies and fellowships, including work at McLean Hospital in Boston, and culminated in a doctorate from the University of Miami, where I specialized in prescribing behavioral health medications and providing Jungian psychotherapy.  

That path, though it may seem circuitous, is unified by a single thread: the search for meaning, for healing, and for connection. Water, it turns out, was never far from that path.

I moved to Miami because I loved the water. There I met my husband, Phil de Tournillon, partly because we both shared a love of water. We married, raised our children in Miami, and built a life that has always, in one way or another, been immersed in water and an aquatic-facing lifestyle.

Essential Fascination 

Swimming came to me through fascination rather than some type of formal discipline or training. The first time I put on a mask and snorkel, something shifted in me permanently. I often say that water rescued me. It gave me hope, power, and a sense of joy that is difficult to articulate but unmistakable when felt.  

Scuba diving made me a better snorkeler, but snorkeling connects my breath to the sky.   I remember hovering on my back on a snorkel 20 feet beneath the surface in the Cayman Islands, watching fat rain drops strike the water above me like thousands of ballerinas of light and motion.  I was mesmerized. I chased my bubbles rising out of the water and our Caymanian Captain told me, “You swim like a fish.”   He was not really seeing technique, it was my fascination.  In that moment, I understood something essential about presence and wonder. 

Years later, after an injury ended my time as a long-distance runner, I turned again to water. I wanted to swim in place, to move continuously without interruption, to immerse myself in rhythm and breath. Phil and I explored the available options and found a compact current pool. It worked, technically, but it felt mechanical, even intrusive. I described it as swimming inside a washing machine. I wanted something different. I wanted a current that felt like a river, something that belonged in a real pool, in a more realistic environment.

That search led us to a system created by Peter Davidson, then known as Swim Gym. I recognized immediately, from a scientific standpoint, that it possessed the power and hydraulic integrity to create a meaningful current. Without ever having tried it, we ordered one. When it was installed in our backyard pool along the Intracoastal, everything changed. I swam for hours and fell in love with the current, as did others. Our home became a gathering place, alive with movement and laughter. During the day, it belonged to the children and the neighborhood. At night, it belonged to me.

Phil saw its potential just as clearly. He believed, quite simply, that every pool in Florida should have one. That conviction led to a partnership with Davidson, an investment, and eventually the evolution of what is now River Flow Pools. (The name itself came from my brother, inspired by the river floating culture of Central Texas. It captured something essential: not just movement, but experience.)

Over time, the applications of current-generation systems expanded far beyond their original intent. Yes, they serve beautifully as swim-against-current systems, allowing for continuous exercise in a contained space. But they also gave rise to a broader vision that includes lazy rivers, adventure pools, therapeutic environments, and complex commercial installations. 

We have systems in large-scale projects, including a massive multi-pump installation in Dubai, and in more intimate settings such as residential pools, homeowner associations, and RV parks. The possible applications are broad in scope, and vast in potential benefits.

Healing Motions 

Perhaps most meaningful to me are the applications that intersect directly with healing. We have worked with facilities that train first responders in water rescue scenarios, replicating the urgency and unpredictability of real-life conditions. We have contributed to aquatic rehabilitation environments, including those designed for injured animals.

In one memorable instance, our technology was used to help create a controlled aquatic environment for Winter, the dolphin who inspired a widely known film, “A Dolphin’s Tale.” That project opened new doors, not just commercially, but conceptually.

For me, the connection between my clinical work and these aquatic systems is not incidental. It is foundational.

In my practice, I work with individuals facing profound challenges, including those with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, cardiac conditions, and severe anxiety. These patients often experience panic that exacerbates their physical symptoms, creating a cycle that can lead to repeated emergency interventions. The central task, in many cases, is to help them learn how to regulate themselves, to understand their condition, and to participate actively in their own recovery.

I use a phrase that has become central to my philosophy: patients must participate in their own rescue.

If someone is caught in a current and they do nothing, they are lost. But if they engage, if they fight, if they understand what is happening and respond, their chances change dramatically. This principle applies equally in medicine and in life. It is something I once heard articulated by Coach Pat Riley, and it has stayed with me ever since.

Water is uniquely suited to teaching this lesson. It changes perception almost instantly. It creates what I describe as spontaneous fascination, a shift in awareness that opens the mind to new possibilities. In that state, individuals become more receptive to change. They can let go of entrenched patterns, reframe their experiences, and begin to heal.

We see this in therapeutic contexts ranging from aquatic exercise to more structured interventions. Even simple movement against a current introduces resistance, balance, and coordination. These are not trivial benefits. Balance, in particular, is directly linked to longevity. Falls remain a leading cause of mortality among older adults, and maintaining stability is essential to preventing them.

Aquatic Bliss

At the same time, water offers something less tangible but equally important. It nourishes the spirit. It expands one’s sense of capability. It creates an environment in which effort feels meaningful and even joyful. 

This convergence of physical, psychological, and emotional benefit has helped shape the evolution of our work at Riverflow. Increasingly, clients are not simply asking for pools. They are asking for experiences that support wellness, longevity, and connection. They want environments that serve multiple generations, that can be adjusted for different levels of ability and engagement, and that offer both recreation and restoration.

This shift has led, quite naturally, to the development of more accessible systems. Not every project requires a large installation or multiple pumps. Not every client has the space or the budget for a traditional current system. Yet the desire for moving water, for that sense of living flow, remains strong.

This is where our new system, Blue Orbit, enters the conversation.

Blue Orbit represents an effort to bring the benefits of current-driven water to a broader audience. It is designed to work within smaller pools, often using a single pump, to create a circulating current that mimics the simple, joyful experience many of us remember from childhood, running in circles around the pool to make the water move. From that humble origin, we have built a system that integrates motion, light, and sound.

What distinguishes Blue Orbit is not only its affordability but its emphasis on experience. It is, in many ways, a nocturnal environment. The movement of water becomes visible through carefully orchestrated lighting, creating a dynamic visual field that can be paired with music to produce a deeply immersive effect. I have stood with clients at dusk, imagining together how their pool might transform as the sun sets, how the water might carry rhythm and light in a continuous, flowing pattern.

It is, quite simply, an invitation to step into the stream.

Finding the Way

And that, ultimately, is what this work has always been about for me. Whether I am sitting with a patient in distress or standing beside a pool under the evening sky, I am engaged in the same essential task. I am trying to help people reconnect with their capacity for tolerance, flexibility and resilience, to rediscover their ability to move, to adapt, and to heal.

I cannot do that work unless I believe in it. I cannot offer something I do not trust. The systems we create are not merely products. They are environments that encourage vitality and hardiness;  that invite participation, and that remind us, in a very real and physical way, that we are capable of strength to participate in the rescue of ourselves and those we love. 

In the end, water teaches us this lesson again and again. It asks us to enter, to engage, and to trust in our own ability to find our way forward.