Saving Terence Bosley

September 30, 2022

 

Jim supposed that everybody at some stage in their lives has a friend like Terence Bosley.  He was harmless enough but was the perennial outsider, never being welcomed into any of the social groups at school and always on the periphery of any activities that were organised.  Today they would say he lacked social skills but then it was thought he was just odd.  His name didn’t help - Terence.  Where the rest of the boys had good solid names like Matthew, Mark and John, Terence had been named after his great-grandfather who had been killed in World War 1 and his mother woudn’t allow him to shorten it.

 

Maybe his name was part of his problem.  If it had been Terry it might have been OK but Jim can’t imagine someone called Terence ever becoming a rock star or a drug dealer, or even a member of his group of friends.

 

One weekend, Jim and some friends planned a trip into the South-West of Tasmania to visit some caves.  A fellow had visited their class in Year 9 to talk about the wonderful caves in Tasmania.  Everyone had heard about Hastings Cave and Mole Creek but he was talking about caves which were not set up as tourist attractions. He even organised a class trip to visit a cave called Womguano, in the Florentine Valley.  Jim’s eyes were opened to a world he had never known existed.

 

Somehow Terence heard about their planned trip and came to Jim to ask whether he could come.  He offered to take his car which was probably more reliable than anyone else’s in the group.  Jim didn’t know why he had been asked; he wasn’t the obvious leader of the group but Terence may have thought Jim might, at least, plead his case to the others.  It was fine; no one objected and they set off early one Saturday morning.  

 

They were heading for a cave near the Ida River Railway and they had been given instructions on how to get there, with the strict warning that it was a dangerous area if it had been raining.  There had been several deaths over the years when groups were caught in flood waters but the forecast was positive so they didn’t anticipate any problems.  They were a little concerned about Terence; he was a bit overweight and unfit but they weren’t attempting the ascent of Everest and could always leave him to look after the car if it was clear he couldn’t cope.

 

They had no trouble following the directions.  There was a sign on the forestry road and an old railway line to follow and they were soon looking at the creek which flowed into the cave.  For that reason it was called Entrance Cave and there was a similar opening called Exit Cave some distance away.

 

It was easy enough getting into the cave but, quite quickly, it narrowed down and they found themselves crawling on their bellies through some quite tight passages.  This wasn’t as much fun as they had expected and there was clear evidence of previous visitors, with broken formations and rubbish lying about.  Jim was all for calling it quits when he heard a groan from Terence. 

 

“I’m stuck,” he said.  I can’t move.”

 

If wasn’t funny, of course, but they couldn’t resist making the obvious jokes.  ‘Don’t worry, Terence.  If you stay there long enough, you’ll lose weight and be able to slip through easily” and so on.

 

The rock was rough and they didn’t want to injure him more by forcing his body through the narrow crack but they couldn’t just leave him there either.  Somebody could go for help but that could take hours.  Instead, they gathered from the car the items they thought might be useful: a rope, and a groundsheet which was tough enough to protect Terence but slippery enough to, maybe, help him get out of his predicament.  Some butter from last night’s meal could be useful, sunscreen and anything else that might help him slip free.

 

It took a while and there was quite a bit of skin left on the rocks but, eventually the task of Saving Terence Bosley was completed. 

 

Jim was not normally a serious person but he was quite sure that what happened next might have severe implications for Terence Bosley’s future happiness.  Was it fair to saddle him with the reputation of being the fat boy who had to be saved from being stuck in a cave by having his body covered in leftover butter?  The others agreed and it’s pleasing to say that, to this day, no one has ever felt the need to tell the story of Saving Terence Bosley. Until now!