Jonty was getting to be quite a swimmer. Each time he attempted to swim a distance he would manage, much to the disbelief of adults around him, but nevertheless, each distance would be further than the last time. His badges were many, and he had even got his 1500 metres, so it could be said that Jonty was getting to be quite a swimmer.
I am sad to say, however, that one day he did something quite dangerous. It was the holidays, and it wasn't really Jonty's fault; it was his dad's who suggested they go for a swim in the sea and, naturally, Jonty agreed.
All through Jonty's life his Dad had looked after him in the water, but pretty soon the tables were to turn. The intrepid pair waded into the cold sea water clutching their trunks and laughing at the cold shocks each time they took a step deeper. They were quite used to the water and before long Jonty was swimming close to his dad, who was having to jump to keep his head out of the water every time a wave came in.
Before long they were both swimming, they thought parallel to the shore but... imperceptibly the shoreline was actually getting further away. After no more than a couple of minutes, when an effort was made to get back to the shore, it seemed to get no closer, but it was obvious that they had been taken down the coastline some 400 yards from where they had originally waded in.
"Some current!" said Jonty's dad breathily, trying to sound flippant. "Are you OK?"
"Fine" replied Jonathan, not contemplating the thought that any harm could come to him while he was with his dad. This was actually a wrong answer.
Jonty was not fine, although he was not aware of it. He was swimming away quite happily, but the proximity of his dad and himself to Newquay was decreasing, while the United States of America were already half a mile closer.
"I think we've got a problem Jonty" his dad shouted "but stay calm"
Up to this point Jonty had been perfectly calm, but now, with a tinge of anxiety he said "What's up?"
Jonty, being young, had paid scant attention to the Cornish Coast rolling by, but now noticed that the shoreline was now some way off, and quite unrecognisable.
His dad spoke sternly. "Jonty, you must concentrate. The current has took us out to sea. I'm sure we'll be safe as long as we stay calm, but keep moving so you don't get cold. I'm going to shout for help"
With that his dad yelled at the top of his voice, but if he had known it, it had no effect. It was the evening and by this time most people were selecting which clothes would best compliment their suntans that night.
Several tries and twenty minutes later and the pair were definitely feeling more than uncomfortable. It would not be long before one of them packed in, and Jonty would be left alone.
"Can't we swim back quickly, to beat the current?" suggested Jonty.
"We are going to have to try Jonty.. I haven't got much left. Whatever happens, if I fail, you must keep going Jonty, you must. COME ON"
With that Jonty's dad struck into a clumsy, muscle sapping freestyle which Jonty could not imitate. Instead he naturally flopped his arms over in a relaxed and effective movement that kept him up with his Dad.
After several minutes crawling along, the shore had seemed to get no nearer. Appearances can be deceptive, but nevertheless, they can be most discouraging.
They had been in the water for over half an hour. Jonty was exhausted and had stopped crawling as his dad spluttering shouted out
"Jonty, keep going, keep going, don't wait for me..."
"But Dad ..."
"Jonty, keep going, you can't save me. - Tell all the kids I really love them"
"But Dad..."
"GO Jonty, go, somebody will rescue you. KEEP GOING."
"Dad..."
"Tell your sister Sarah I worship her, and look after her"
"Please Dad, don't...
"It's no use Jonty, I love you more than you love me.."
And so it was, that Jonty's Dad said these words with a finality never before intoned in that oft used phrase.
"..Goodbye."
"But Dad..." said Jonty, finally being allowed to say his piece. "I'm standing up"
Jonty's drowning father stopped floundering and allowed his feet to sink to the sand which his smaller son had discovered. Once again there was nobody to hear his scream on the beach, but ten minutes later a cold, lucky, but very much relieved couple waded up the sand and breathed a big sigh of relief on dry land.
When they got back to the caravan they naturally got an earful, as they were over two hours overdue, and it was nearly dark. On explaining the pair told Jonty's Mum some of the story, but not all. (Eventually Jonty's mum did wheedle the tale out of her son, but only when her husband wasn't there to 'set the record straight').