All names have been changed,
but the dates and events are true. This is an account of what I wrote at
the time, just shortly after the actual event.
River Dunking
I wrote this account on the day that it
happened, Friday 19 April 1985...
This definitely isn't my month. Engine
fire, students turning up and can't use the boat, weather awful. I have
just conducted my own scientific experiment and came up with the strong conclusion that
the water is very cold at this time of year.
I was going ashore for a shower, and I
certainly got that. I had just fetched 5 gallons of water in my jerry can
which was sitting in the dinghy. I came alongside the dinghy pontoon, and
had to lean over the jerry can in order to tie the painter (rope) to the cleat
on the pontoon. I didn't make a song and dance about it - I just slid very
gracefully into the water while hanging onto the end of the pontoon! My first
thought was to rescue by new shoes (bought them yesterday!). My second
thought was for the dinghy which was now fast drifting off downstream. A hero arrived in a dinghy, left me
where I was, and rescued my dinghy. I was left to scramble up onto the
pontoon myself - not easy when freezing cold with several layers of sodden
clothes. The chap in the dinghy and another who now appeared, both bore
the same testimony..."I was sure I saw someone in that dinghy, then suddenly you
weren't there!" Another eye witness commented on the gracefulness of
my disappearance.
I decided against the shower, reclambered into
the dinghy and set off back to Delphin. People always appear when you don't want
them to don't they? The crew on Mucky Duck were up on deck and called out
to me, so I slowed
down and offered an explanation for my bedraggled state. As I was tying up
alongside Delphin, the assistant harbourmaster (who had a bit of a fierce
reputation) went by in his launch, with a sneering "Good morning!". I
half-heartedly greeted him back, doing my best to crouch down as low as I could
without arousing suspicion.
Word soon got around of course. Many a
folk had a laugh at my expense. One of my saviours on the day was Alan, a
lovely Polish gentleman who worked on the fuel barge. All that summer,
whenever I met him (frequently), he greeted me very politely with, "Hello Carol, how are you?
Are you dry?"
