Nessie Saves The Day

This is a true story, and readers, I was there…

Every bank holiday at the end of May, the Gloucestershire village of South Cerney has a Duck Race, in aid of a local charity.  This involves tipping hundreds of bright yellow plastic ducks, each with a painted number, into the River Churn (Ceorn in Old English, hence the village name).  They bob merrily along to a designated finishing point, where the first six home get a modest cash prize, and the rest of the money raised goes to said charity. 

Some time during the 1990's I was in the crowd on the day of the Duck Race. The money that year was to be put towards construction of village tennis courts.

The river is small and winds about, so most people don’t get a direct look at the ducks being tipped in.  We were waiting in a crowd round the first bend, with the excitement mounting as we heard the starting gun go off further upstream.  Anticipation built, everyone bobbing about for a better look, to be the first one to spot a yellow duck and raise the cheer.

We waited.  And waited.  Anxious glances were exchanged.  A buzz of conversation 'Where are they?'.   And then round the bend came, not hundreds of yellow plastic ducks, but –

An inflatable Loch Ness Monster with a ransom note, tied round its neck.

It would be another 30 years, when the world woke up to find that dnled had won a second term, before we would see such collective gobsmackedness again.

I will just give you a bit of back story here, if you can stand the suspense.  At this time, there was in one of the village pubs, a bar called 'Walter Mitty's Bar'.  It was a come-as-you-are type establishment with a reputation for, well, all sorts of things.  (It was eventually closed down for staging a live sex show).

Walter Mitty's was run by an American, who was, as they say, a bit of a character.  He drove around the village in a huge 1950's  American car with massive tail fins.  He was also a good guy and did lots of fund raising for the local SEN school which his son attended. 

I had thought, like most other people, that 'village tennis courts' meant public courts which anyone in the village could play on.  But the  tennis courts were actually going to belong to a private club, and anyone who wanted to play on them would have to pay to join the club. Somehow The American had found this out, and he and his friends had jumped in the river with landing nets, nicked the ducks and sent Nessie off as a protest.

The funny thing is that I can remember nothing else of the day after Nessie hove into view.  Did we get the ducks back ?  Did my duck win ?  Was there a big fight between the duck-launchers and the duck-nappers ?  I guess my brain went into shock and stopped recording.

Disclaimer : 

I have to say that I only ever heard the one side of this, and if any members of South Cerney Tennis Club would like to mount a robust response I would be very happy to hear it. I'm sure there was no deliberate deception involved, it was more a case that the publicity for the Duck Race didn't make it clear the tennis courts were going to be private.

Note :  Image is free from Pixabay