Things finally began to settle down as the vigilante posse was herded back into their sleeping quarters by the now rather anxious camp leaders. David however, was not so settled he was just getting started. His mind was busy thinking thinking got it!! – the next water welcome target should be the female camp leaders sleeping quarters. Now why didn’t I think of that? Probably because it was after midnight and I was thinking more about the safety and serenity of sleep but what choice did me, the sax player and Bancroft have? – being David’s key lieutenants and all. Well the female camp leaders were housed on the well-lit second floor of the dormitory style building located just off the main canteen. To get there undetected we had to climb onto the metal roof of the canteen and approach the opened windows in the dark from that level. Having used all our water balloons on our best mates from Melbourne, David decided that we should use buckets of water as our next welcoming call. Now I swear, unlike our Mediterranean mates, some women camp leaders have a sixth sense about this sort of activity and remain vigilant and awake all camp long in anticipation of just such an event. This time was no exception. We got sprung by a sleepless, torch-carrying matron of the night All right. I can see you boys. The game is up. Her husky, ecstatic and rather amplified voice soon ensured the gathering of the full camp leadership like moths to the bright lights that were under the exit point of the building. We had apparently disturbed their prayer meeting being held in the room below us. Friends, there was no where to run this time boys, this is the end of the line come on, there is no where to hide here guys, it’s time to face the music these were the thoughts I believed we all shared. So, one by one each of us emptied our buckets of water into the gutter and lowered ourselves into the arms of the waiting and we are not amused camp authority. Out of the darkness of the roof we came – first Bancroft, then the sax player, then me, then nothing? – only the police type demands of one rather uptight camp leader. Alright, I can see you. You up there on the roof. Come down this minute. Well, nothing prepared us for what happened next. First came an unexpected evening rain shower followed soon after by the muffled Quasimodo sounds of YAAHOOO. We then witnessed the spread-eagled leap over our heads by a man wearing Ned Kellys metal bucket headgear. His legs were already making time well before they hit the ground and he disappeared into the night faster than a gazelle leaves a pride of lions scouting for a picnic lunch. The scolding we received certainly destroyed our angelic innocence, took away our want for more adventure and dampened our enthusiasm for more water welcomes but, nothing could stop the giggles that the captured shared that night, as we recalled the exploits (but not the identity) of the man who never was.
