The wind stood fair along the Cam as we boarded our vessel for our intrepid expotition into the unknown. Our company of stalwarts numbered six, last-minute factors having prevented the attendance of Anthony Walker, our gallant Captain of Poohsticks. Instead, we had among us Ben, Jon, Vicky, Andrew, Rob and new recruit Claire Milford when we set out from our rendezvous point at the millrace, amid much merry pre-expotition banter. Nonetheless, I do not think but that all of us were slightly apprehensive of the perils that lay ahead.
As we prepared our vessel for departure, it was a clear sign of such nerves that accusations were levelled against Vicky that she was unprepared for the rigours of the journey, having not brought the Treasury or the Testaments, but she claimed that she was quite rough enough for this expotition, having not shaved for three days, and such proof of determination we were contented.
The climate was initially unpromising; grey skies bade us retire, but imbued with a Pooh-like spirit of determination, we struck out northwards, with Andrew bravely navigating despite a complete unfamiliarity with the engine system. Rob declared himself Captain, but we decided to ignore him since he was only acting in character, and so it behoved us to ignore him as everyone would have ignored Rabbit in the Hundred-Acre Wood. With Ben brandishing weapons ready for surprise attack from hostile river-dwelling creatures, or worse, Trinity students, we made our way up-river.
There was some initial confusion when Jon adopted nautical terminology, and the company became rather disappointed when he explained that by “port” he meant ‘left’ and not a fortified wine. Rob meanwhile attempted to communicate with some other river-travellers in French, although quite why, since they’d been talking English beforehand, we were unsure. In any case, he could not make himself understood, and we passed from each other’s sight still unsure what either had been saying. Ben attempted to hearten us by reading “In Which Piglet is Entirely Surrounded by Water”, but he had to cease after a while due to the fact that all were too concerned with the vessel’s navigation to give proper heed. Moreover, there were attempts being made to supplement our rather scanty provisions by potting the odd duck or two. Unfortunately, our attempts to incapacitate them with water-pistols proved ineffective: Vicky suggested enthusiastically that we all contract scurvy, but the company did not share her joy at the prospect, already subdued by shortage.
Besides, by this time we were making a dangerous passage through the rocky King’s gorge, where Jon was afraid of being accosted from the riverside dwellings by primitive Amazonians, and were threateningly becalmed, despite Andrew’s most stalwart efforts. However, an over-flight by a friendly aircraft reassured us, and after Claire pluckily took over the navigation we began to get under way again. Jon distributed provisions while Andrew moved to the prow of our vessel and took over the task of lookout.
It was at this stage that we suddenly found ourselves under a concerted attack by a formation of the river tribe known as Anatidæ, who had detected our provisions: Rob’s attempts to make himself understood to them also failed, and with their quacking war-cries they pursued us for some distance before Claire’s quality punting took us safely out of danger at a speed greater than our attackers could sustain. A measure of the scare this episode gave us may be taken from the fact that Ben missed several obvious innuendoes after an interval of several minutes.
After the harrowing encounter however, our spirits were raised by the sighting of Trinity Library, in which, as is well-known, lies a fabulous gold-encrusted first edition of ‘Winnie-the-Pooh’. We held our breaths in awe. Our reverie was soon broken however, by the hostile bridges of John’s; having made it under the Bridge of Sighs despite several of the well-known John’s spy-pigeons flying away to report, we made a brief landfall just beyond Second Court, and moored ‘The Lady Foundress’ there while we changed crew positions, thus claiming the land for Pembroke. Jon now took over the punting, and the log was taken over on by our brave Foreign Secretary, Andrew, whom I transcribe from here on.
As the cry of “Anchors aweigh!” rang out over the Cam, Ben was sighted applying black nail varnish to his middle finger-nail once more, and Rob offered to whip Vicky, although she declined for the time being since it might swamp the punt. Before long someone did the “Duck!” joke. It was evident that our long voyage had begun to unhinge our minds. Vicky was heard to complain that Jon’s bed was too soft, complimented Jon’s excellent performance, and expressed a desire to mount the pavement. Evidently the gaseous stench of corruption had spread from John’s to our own vessel. Even Jon complained that the pole wouldn’t drip when he wanted it to. By the time we got back to the dangerous King’s enfilade, the loss of control was almost complete, but threats of Amazons gave Jon the steel to continue.
We soon encountered another vessel, whose occupants’ taunts we had endured several times on the down-river passage, although we had given as good as we got, naturally. Our competition with them rapidly reached a head, and despite, or possibly because of, our constant bombardment of them with Cam water fired by Ben and Andrew, they still beat us back to the dock after a nerve-snapping dogfight in the basin of the millrace as we manoeuvred for position. However, once ashore they rapidly disappeared, and it became clear that they had obviously retired to lick their wounds, whereas we were fresh and ready to further spread the word of Pooh among the righteous. Thus we concluded our Expotition, and went to Ben’s room for tea.
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