This factual story is from years ago when I was in the final years of High School. Most summer holidays a group of friends and I would catch the train to the Royal National Park, a large are of bushland just to the south of Sydney. We would jump off the diesel train at Lilyfield station (then only a deserted slab of a platform in the heart of the bush, now sadly no longer used) and hike with our backpacks and fishing roads over and down the high escarpment to the long spread of isolated beaches on the eastern boundary. We would bush camp under the gum trees and spend our days fishing and swimming in the surf.
On this particular long weekend, only a male friend from school and I had made the trip, the others being put off by the forecast rain on the Sunday. We arrived Saturday noon and pitched out tent in the usual spot. It was a fine afternoon and we had a good swim on the deserted beach, and managed to catch a few flatheads (fish) for dinner to augment our supplies.
As we were eating by candle light (open fires are banned in the Park during summer) we heard the banging home of tentpegs: some other people were erecting a tent further up the path, behind a large thicket. They were about 50 metres away and so we didn't worry too much about them. The beach camp was otherwise deserted, and even the ranger's wooden hut was empty. Two girls we later discovered, as they walked down the path past our camp, on their way to the small rill that ran off the escarpment that was the only source of water at the beach camp.
Later that evening - it was only about 8pm -my friend and I were playing cards, when we heard a small stick fall on our tent. Nothing unusual; eucalypts were always shedding leaves and twigs, when we heard it again, and again. Grabbing our torches we went outside and saw two figures rise and race up the dirt path, vanishing behind the thicket. It was our neighbours, laughing and running away in the moonlight.
Electrified by that universal urge to chase when something runs away, my friend and I dashed after them. I followed one ghostly shape down towards the sea, while my friend pursued his inland. I caught her at the beach when her feet suddenly hit soft sand. She was wearing a red and black plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black shorts and sneakers without socks. We struggled but I managed to get on top of her and held her hands to the sand. She was panting but smiling.
"What are you going to do with me now?" she asked. I picked her up and started leading her back to the campsite, but she took the opportunity to rush off again, and I only just managed to catch her a second time.
"If you're going to misbehave I'm going to have to tie you," I said, barely believing my ears. "Well I'm not going to behave," she said.
I didn't have anything with me, so I took off her shoes and undid her laces, then tied her wrists in front of her, she struggling all the while. It wasn't a great job, but I managed to cinch the laces at the end and bring her wrists close together. I tied the knot underneath, making it harder for her to use her teeth to escape. However she could still run, so using my own shoelaces I tied her ankles together, but left about a 40cm length of lace between them, so she was effectively hobbled and could no longer run. Now that she was somewhat restrained, I led her back to the campsite.
TBC