What did you think of yesterday's story? Here
Yes, unfortunately, that was all TRUE I'm afraid. Even down to the encounter, years later. It was a dark time in my childhood and I'm thankful that I met and married someone else.
So, for today's adventure, I'm going further back into my past.
What do you think? Truth or Fiction?
In the summer holidays, the kids on our street would either split off into boys and girls or we’d go out en-masse on an adventure.
One particular hot summer’s day, in the depths of what passes for a heatwave in England (three fine days in a row) we went off to find some water to play in.
Being teens and pre-teens, we were, of course, immortal and so the dangers of playing in or near water did not apply to us – or at least we never thought they applied to us.
A dozen or so kids, all with adventure in their little black hearts, off to find a body of water for the day.
What could possibly go wrong?
Down Sherwood Street, past the ‘humps and hollows’, across the railway lines, (looking both ways and listening all the time, of course – we were immortal not stupid) we went up the slight rise and over the top to the lakes.
Well, large ponds really, but as most of us had never had any experience of real lakes they would do.
We had to be careful because the neighbouring village kids used to play there too and if we met with them, there could be violence – not always but it depended on whether we were evenly-matched in number.
On our way to the ponds, we’d found a large piece of polystyrene and someone had the bright idea of lugging it all the way to the ponds. It wasn’t a heavy piece, but it was really cumbersome and awkward, especially over stiles and through gaps in fences. Plus if there was a gust of wind, we’d be sure to get blown off our feet, so it was determined that at least two of us had to heft it at all times.
To the Lakes!
Past the old, abandoned and mostly fallen-down building that was too small to be a house, down the track, to our destination for the day!
There were three large rocks standing in the water. The first was easily accessible for everyone, even the little kids. The second was a leap from the first, too much for the little kids and the third was a swim for it.
Our mission that day – and we chose to accept it – was to achieve the third rock. Hence the polystyrene ‘raft’.
We played about in the shallows for a little while, seeing if there were any fish – there were never any fish. Sometimes there were tadpoles, but only if we brought our own – yep… we took tadpoles and ‘transplanted’ them in the lake.
Then we decided to launch the raft!
It took a few of us to lug the raft onto the second rock and we decided the raft would only support two of us.
So three of us decided, No guts, no glory! and first one got on board the raft. It was a little more difficult for the second one, balancing the weight between the front and the back. When the third one (me) got on, it had become a death-defying circus act.
Everyone was cheering us on and we didn’t like to disappoint.
The problem was, we didn’t have much in the way of paddles and leaning over to scoop water and propel ourselves along was… awkward, wet and worrying.
We were certain we’d all be tipped into the water at any moment and when we had drifted almost to the middle of the pond, one of our number piped up – “I can’t actually swim…”
I’m not sure if it was the vital information delivered in a not-so-timely fashion or the realisation that the raft really couldn’t cope with the weight and balance-distribution of three gawky kids, but we realised we may be taking on water.
Now, what do we do? Do we make for the rock in the middle of the pond and complete our mission or do we go back and deliver the non-swimmer?
Knowing we wouldn’t have another go if we went back, we pressed on regardless!
Then, shouts from the bank alerted us to another issue.
The neighbouring kids were coming down the hill – Sunny Bank on the pic.
We had a little time, and if we really made an effort, we may make it to safety, but our mission would have to be abandoned – and so would the raft!
Just before we got to the second rock – and relative safety – the raft gave up the ghost and tipped us into the water.
The non-swimmer went directly into panic-mode and tried to pull me and the other kid down to the depths with him. Fortunately, I could touch the bottom of the pond and he clung to me like a drowning man clutches at a straw.
It didn’t help our progress any and the first of the rival kids had arrived at the top of the path and were screaming their way down to us!
The rest of our lot (the dry ones) were told to go and they made a run for it. We abandoned the raft and made our way up the slope to the derelict house, squelching and sploshing, wellies filled with water and pond-weed.
The rival kids didn’t bother following us – I suppose there wasn’t much more punishment they could administer, since we were soaked and probably in for a thrashing when we got home.
They commandeered our raft and we made our way home, heads down in defeat and misery of the unaccomplished mission.
I never did get to set foot on that third rock.
