We were adrift on a hippo-infested lake at sundown, helplessly floating towards the Congo.
Our years in Africa were drawing to a close and we were on our final safari. My wife, daughter, mother-in-law and I had treated ourselves to a dinner cruise on the lake. The boat was a small pontoon with an outboard motor. The table was set in the middle of the pontoon, with the “kitchen” off to the side. There was a canister of cooking gas and a little camp stove and a cooler full of beverages.
As we approached the dock, all of my radar went off. Years of dealing with logistical challenges in Africa had conditioned me to spot things that were likely not to work. The scene before me included many warning signs.
There were no life jackets, no paddles, and no lights on the boat. We stepped aboard and I said quietly to my wife “They need to start the motor before we cast off”. This did not happen. Instead we cast off. A very pleasant African waiter served us soup and uncorked a bottle of wine while we drifted ever further from shore. Only then did he try to start the motor.
Nothing. He tried and tried. Nothing. At this point it was pretty clear that we were moving far away from shore with no way to get back in. We could hear the nighttime animal life, including the swishing and grunting of hippos, in the water around us.
When it became clear that we were adrift with no real options, the pleasant African waiter did an amazing thing. He stripped down to his underwear. Ignoring our pleas not to, he then dove overboard into the water. He clenched the boat rope in his teeth and began to swim through the hippo-infested water back to shore.
The guests and staff at the lodge came out to cheer this fellow on. But nobody came down to the water to help him. We landed without incident and were escorted up to the lodge restaurant and seated at a table. It was all as if nothing had happened. We felt confused, bewildered, colonial.
Moments later a waiter arrived at our table. It was the very same fellow who had just swum us back to shore. He had thrown his clothes back on, still wet. His hair was dripping on his shoes. He smiled and, as if nothing at all had happened, simply asked “And what may I get you for drinks to begin your evening?”
[If you know someone else who might enjoy a lighthearted story to begin their week, kindly forward them the link to WordsfortheWeary. The more the merrier.]
