Our Harrowing Ordeal at Long Pond Part II

When we went back to Long Pond (or, more correctly, where it had been), we saw to our shock and horror that The Idiot (who was now nowhere to be seen) had succeeded in draining the entire pond into the ocean!

A huge swathe of the sea was discoloured brown by all the mud and silt that had washed out, and through a wide breach in the berm, a gushing torrent of water was running out to the ocean.

Although most of the pond had been drained--and the muddy bed of the pond was now exposed--the stream of water flowing seaward was still running so deep and fast that we didn't dare wade across it. We didn't fancy being knocked off our feet and washed into the Atlantic Ocean--not so close to dinnertime.

We saw freshwater fish being swept into the salty waters, and a crab desperately trying to scrabble against the current and hang on to the side of the breach with its pincers. It occurred to me that The Idiot had single-handedly destroyed an entire ecosystem all by himself, for no better reason than that he'd had nothing to do and too much destructive energy to do it with.

Meanwhile, our bus back to Bathsheba was passing by Barclays Park in rather less than an hour. We would have to try crossing upstream, over the now exposed muddy bottom of Long Pond.

As soon as we stepped off the sandy bank, though, we sank almost to our thighs in mud that had collected over years, possibly decades. My left Croc was swallowed up in the gooey, sucking, black silt. I had to plunge my arm in to retrieve it.

Now, I had spent a fair chunk of my childhood playing in just these conditions on the mudflats of Pasir Panjang in Singapore (now built over with container wharves), so I wasn't quite as alarmed as the Good Hubby, who seriously thought we would be sucked whole into the mud and never seen nor heard from again. Still, it was an unpleasant and unforeseen situation, and I wasn't quite sure how it would end.

I wish I had a photo to append to this post, but by this time my muddy left arm was carrying my muddy left Croc and it just didn't seem like a good idea to take out any personal electronic devices.

So we just hobbled up and down cursing for a few minutes.

Then the Good Hubby had a bright idea. He found us a couple of walking sticks, and using these to find the bottom, we hauled ourselves across at the narrowest point and made it safely to Barclays Park, where we had enough time to wash ourselves under a running tap before getting our bus.

No thanks to The Idiot.