Pineapple Creek ran along the bottom of the steep ravine behind our house on Blue Mountain Road. We used to see how far we could fly paper airplanes off our veranda into the ravine. Someone had strung up a long rope from a high tree branch overhanging the creek, and we were able to swing out in a huge arc across the creek and back. I think this is the longest swing I have ever been on. (Someone else will have to fill in how the rope got there – I don’t remember, but it would have been a tough climb)
If you didn’t make it back to the takeoff point, you had to swing to a standstill and climb down the rope and drop a few feet into the creek. The rope did not extend all the way down and it was quite hard to retrieve it when it was hanging straight down. While swinging you would be about 12 feet above the creek. Naturally we didn’t wait to come to a complete standstill or make the effort to climb all the way down, but often tried to drop into the creek from quite a height – while still swinging. We each learned the hard way, if you got a little too impatient and careless and dropped while swinging too fast, you would pay a painful price as the creek was only about 4 feet wide and easy to miss. Even if you hit the creek, it was only a foot deep so at high speed it was still a pretty hard landing. Of course, it was also a macho thing to drop at high speed, but we all survived the experience, using natural self-preservation instincts to limit our risks. You can see from this picture how steep the ravine was and how small the creek was, although I think this picture was taken further downstream than our house. I’m sure some of you readers can identify the dude posing by the creek. Hint – it isn’t me.
Pineapple Creek
October 27, 2008 by dougwong
11 Responses
Leave a Reply
-
Recent Posts
-
Recent Comments
Alistair Forbes on Pineapple Creek John Grimshaw on Finding the Wreck of the R.H.… lindener for life on You asked about Land Rovers an… Ian Bobb on Off to Watooka Day School Ian Bobb on Pineapple Creek Ian Bobb on You asked about Land Rovers an… John Cush on You asked about Land Rovers an… Celeste Patterson on You asked about Land Rovers an… Felicity Crawford on You asked about Land Rovers an… Nigel Ho on You asked about Land Rovers an… Robbie Castel on Pineapple Creek robbie Castel on Ituni, Then and Now Pat Hunte-Cusack on Ituni, Then and Now John den Hartog on Ituni, Then and Now John den Hartog on Ituni, Then and Now Pages
Archives
Where did you get this photo Doug? I have never seen it before. Looks like Robbie Castel.
I remember the location well. It was taken from the top of a little path that ran down the outside part of the fence just where it intersected the run away train siding at the bottom of the sand hills. On the other side of the creek the trail went off to the right and passed through a small grove of pineapples before ending at a large sand clearing. We once camped in this clearing, very brave, as it was on the other side of the fence and there were large animal tracks around. By the time we were teenagers that little bridge had pretty much decomposed. I do remember driving the motor bike over that trail and across the creek several times. By the time we were biker boy age we had stopped camping out at the sand hills, and the run away rail had been removed.
The swing over the creek I clearly remember as being a natural vine, not a rope.
Natural vines you say?
Does anyone remember swinging on the ones near Watooka House by the boathouse? Awesome.
I certainly remember swinging on vines, I can remember the thickness, the texture and even the smell, but don’t recall exactly where they were. Perhaps they were the precursor inspiration for the rope swing. We also used vines to make bows. My memory of the swing is of quite a thick rough rope, frayed at the end, with a big knot a couple of feet up the rope. The knot was too high to stand on while swinging, but too low to hang onto when launching.
You say the rope swing was on Blue Mountain road. We moved to Blue Mountain road and we were between the Forbes and the Senecal-Trenblays. Our veranda looked over the ravine and we often were woken up by parrots and saw monkeys as we had our breakfast. My father Jake and brother John bought a rope in Sprostons, climbed a tree in that ravine and once secured we were set. You had to hold the rope and go backwards up the ravine. Then just lift your feet up and you soared over the ravine!! The momentum brought you back to the ravine. There was also a vine and I seem to remember one of the girls swinging on it and it breaking.
Just a sad comment: when the three of us went back to Guyana in 1994 that ravine had completely been filled in by sand. It looks like a moonscape. As mining continued there was no place to put the over burden so into the gulley it went. We actually were going to see if that rope was still hanging.
Is it true that the golf course has also been mined or dumped on?
I haven’t ever been back since I left from Georgetown in 1967.
Pat, Check out this photo for underwater golf.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/rvewong/2881331198/in/set-72157607353952793/
OH MY!
That was a road going – where?
Just as well I don’t go back.
In 1994 golf course had cows grazing on it. There was no more golf. But that was 14 years ago so could very well have sand on it now.
Hi folks
Bob you are right that is me at the bottom by the creek and it is one from my collection.
I remember the pinaple and also a little further past the sand area was also a plantation of Banna trees.
I have a picture of us camping up on the sand hills by the run away track.( will have to dig it up and scan it.)
Remember the first night? that lightning and rain storm it was fierce to the point where my Mom came out in our old volks wagen to take us back to our house to ride the storm.
I can remember finding Pineapple Creek when I was around 8yrs old with about 6 others. I also can remember the distinct feeling that we had discovered another wonder of the world!! Lol
Ian Bobb
to Reg den Hartog – you mentioned the Forbes’ house above – Would that have been around 1957, cos if so, that was us! My parents, Dave and Royce Forbes, myself and sister Jilly – I would have been six at the time and though I can’t remember names, I do recall living close to a French-Canadian family, the Senecal-Trenblays perhaps? Small world?!