With all the planning to doll up the East River waterfront, wouldn’t it be nice to devote some attention not only to the front but to the water? It’s summer in the city, after all, and it would be nice not only to stroll along the banks of the East River but to jump in for a dip.

New Yorkers used to be able to do this – often without their clothes, as the painting by Geo. Bellows reproduced herewith reminds – and it was a terrific way to cool off on a hot day. But while politicians have been touting their plans for an East River esplanade in lower Manhattan and parks in Greenpoint and below Brooklyn Heights that will draw people to the water, few seem to be trying to get people into the water.

A century ago, “the East River was really the heart of New York,” says Robert Singleton, president of the Greater Astoria Historical Society. It was a recreation spot for the residents of the Lower East Side’s airless tenements. As swimming became more popular in the early 20th century, so did the East River, but gradually New Yorkers lost their dipping rights.

Old Man Rockefeller built his first oil refinery on Newtown Creek, an East River tributary, in the late 19th century. It became a “utility waterway,” as Mr. Singleton puts it – a place to jettison sewage, industrial pollution, and even medical waste. In the 1930s, the city health department cracked down on East River swimming. By that time, Robert Moses had embarked on his automobile-centric plan to push recreation into the suburbs, anyway.

Some years ago, New Yorkers began rediscovering the East River. The completion in 1985 of the last of 14 treatment plants helped, but rainfall can flood the system, forcing the release of sewage into the river. On average, 72 storms produce that much rainfall each year, according to Riverkeeper, an environmental group. The city’s department of environmental protection spokesman, Charles Sturcken, says that any amount of rain can trigger an overflow.

In 2004, the state got the city to agree to a consent order requiring that the city treat 75.5% of the water that passes through the system in a rainstorm, up from 70.2% today. Plans are progressing on two holding tanks that would allow the system to contain the overflow during storms, one on Flushing Bay and the other at Mill Basin on Jamaica Bay. All told, the city and state are proposing a long-term capital program to the tune of $2.2 billion to upgrade infrastructure to control the problem.

Pollution is only one hindrance to swimmers, however. Strong currents in what is actually a tidal estuary, instead of a river, create additional perils. “I think [the East River] is more frightening because of the currents” than because of pollution, says Mr. Sturcken. “You can fall in at 23rd St. and you’re at the Statue of Liberty in no time.” The natural coves that used to protect swimmers a hundred years ago were smoothed out and paved over starting in the 1930s, according to Erik Baard, author of a forthcoming book about the East River.

There are ways, however, to deal with the current, including artificial “swimming holes,” which would allow swimmers to dip into the river while shielding them from the currents. A few such structures were operated by the city for a time in the 1890s, especially on the Hudson, according to the historical society’s Mr. Singleton. An electrical swatting device to deal with the tort lawyers might also help; Mr. Baard reports running up against skittish authorities who object to people jumping in right from the land, mainly from liability fears if something should happen to the swimmer.

Mayor Bloomberg supports efforts to clean up the environment, although the East River as such isn’t explicitly on his list of priorities, says spokeswoman Jennifer Falk. Mr. Baard says he would like to see the mayor swim in the East River once a year as a sign of his interest in making the waterway suitable for swimming. If he did, he’d be in good company – William Weld, when Massachusetts governor, jumped into the ambrosia of the Charles River in 1996 to tout his environmental record during his race to unseat Senator Kerry. The governor kept his clothes on.

Governor Pataki is “committed to providing clean water, clean air, and a clean environment to all New Yorkers,” according to spokeswoman Jennifer Meicht. He frequently touts the $368 million rehabilitation that has improved the Hudson, which the governor has pledged to make swimmable for its entire length by 2009, the 400th anniversary of Henry Hudson’s voyage.

The East River strikes us as equally deserving of the attention of the clean-up crews. Or maybe more. It is a more intimate estuary, one that could be used daily by hundreds of thousands of New Yorkers for swimming and recreation. With politicians tripping over themselves to propose one costly public works project for the city after another, from sports arenas to subway line extensions, it would be nice to see a real plan to create a swimmable East River even now.