The Clear Way

Once upon a time, there was a big fish called Boris. He lived in a pond called Pond.

He wasn’t a particularly big fish – just big enough, he thought. He was big enough to not be regarded as dinner by other big fish in the pond and big enough to not go hungry; he gobbled up plenty of very small fish in the pond, so everything was fine. The small fish tried to hide and live out their lives without being eaten, but there were very few places to hide. It was a good life if you didn’t think about the future too much, but not a very good life; everyone was content enough but not very content. Pond was regarded as an excellent pond, with plenty of clean, clear water and sufficient resources for everyone and interesting events to make life interesting, if not very interesting.

Boris was interesting; an amiable character, he was regarded as something of a celebrity and had many followers who listened intently to what he had to say on many matters. If he thought the small fish were trying too hard to escape being eaten, he would say so and the small fish slowed down and accepted their fate.

Occasionally, when Boris was feeling particularly bored, he swam over to the edge of the pond where water overflowed when Pond was full. The small shallow stream had dried up long ago, but Boris sensed that the small stream could lead to greater things: surely a large lake where life would be better for him. He often entertained his dinner with talk of the Great Lake and how an overflow could enable exploration. He even gave it a name – the E’esea. Of course, not all the small fish Boris chased for dinner were caught, so the stories he told of E’esea were repeated and passed down through the generations in general chit-chat and fishlore. This made some of the pond’s inhabitants long for the benefits of this fabled lake and the populace became disenchanted with their life in Pond.

Time passed and, as is the way of things, nothing much changed until one day there was a great storm. Rain fell in torrents into Pond for several hours. Boris soon realised this was probably causing an overflow – his opportunity to escape from Pond and see for himself where the stream led. Could it be true that E’esea actually existed? Taking his time, so as not to arouse suspicion and cause a shoal, Boris swam to the overflow. Sure enough, the overflow was filling the stream that, although still shallow, was running down the hill towards … where? Boris pondered for a while: what could he do? He swam against the bank side and waited for the water to carry him over, but he was too big and the flow wasn’t strong enough. He tried to flap his tail wildly, but that didn’t work either. He tried desperately to glimpse E’esea over the edge of Pond, but he could see nothing but the stream disappearing along with his dream. Boris turned away disconsolately to find he had a rather large audience. Almost every fish in Pond was forming a huge semi-circle around him whilst finning silently and watching his antics.

‘Ahem,’ said Boris. ‘I was just checking that conditions were right for our first visit to E’esea. Now, I need a few volunteers to go over the top and take a look around, then report back. Who’s up for it?’

The audience shifted uneasily in their swim, looking around for the first fool to enter the unknown. At that time, the water entering the pond started to cloud as run-off from the fields began to muddy the waters…

‘Me, I’ll go!’ shouted a small dace and before anyone could stop him he was gone in a splash and a wriggle.

The assembly remained silent and shocked for a short while. Eventually a murmur started and before long the throng was loudly debating what could be the outcome of the little dace’s audacious action. In what seemed like no time at all, there was a barely audible ‘plop’ as the little dace re-entered the muddy pond. He was out of breath after swimming against the current, but he bore a huge smile.

‘Well!?’ asked Boris.

‘Well!?’ chorused the assembled fish.

‘Well,’ said the little dace, ‘it’s fantastic! It’s so big and everyone is so friendly and accepting of new fish. There are so many different and wonderful things to see, to eat, to do – you can go anywhere without anyone stopping you – I don’t know where to start. But best of all, there are so many places to hide!’

Within a second, the edge of Pond was boiling with the fish exodus. Every fish small enough and capable of wriggling over the edge was gone, a new life and new opportunities drawing them into uncharted waters.

In what seemed like no time at all, a few of them came back.

‘What’s wrong?’ Boris asked.

‘Not all it’s cracked up to be to be honest,’ offered one of the returnees.

‘Why?’ asked Boris.

‘Well, they have ridiculous rules that you have to adhere to and there’s no knowing how many fish there are in there. I think it’s unsustainable,’ said another.

‘But what about all the benefits – surely it’s worth putting up with a few rules to have a better life?’ queried Boris.

‘You would hope so, but it’s just too much to be honest. On top of all that, our guys that wanted to come back were told they couldn’t. They were told they were there for good and they have to work for the E’esea.’

‘So, it is called the E’esea!’ exclaimed Boris.

‘No, well not at first; they thought E’esea sounded good so they changed the name from Eyou.’

Boris thought for a few minutes and considered his position. It was all well and good being a biggish fish in a smallish pond, but there was now nothing to eat… He then delivered a shocking statement: ‘We’ve got to get out of E’esea; it’s just not working for us. We and all our Pond life have the right of self-determination. Are you with me!?’

The other big fish and the band of returnees began arguing among themselves. The cacophony was deafening; it was clear there was no consensus.

Boris shouted for calm in his biggest voice: ‘We sent some of our best fish, our best brains, and our strongest workers down the river! We have to leave the E’esea. There’s nothing to eat in Pond any longer, and this can’t be allowed to continue!’

‘That’s all right for you, you big fish!’ exclaimed a little roach. ‘We are the ones who get eaten! We have protection there and there are places to hide. You’ve talked me into going back!’

‘Me too!’ said another.

‘Hang on a minute,’ said Boris. ‘We need to decide this democratically. We will have a vote.’

‘What is a vote?’ all the fish chorused.

Boris had a think. ‘It’s a way of the small majority getting their way in a way that affects everyone.’

‘Seems fair,’ everyone agreed.

‘Right,’ said Boris. ‘Everyone who wants to stay in – swim over to the lily pad. Everyone who wants to leave, swim over to the stream entrance and guard it.’

‘I’ve forgotten what we’re voting for,’ said someone quietly.

‘Me too,’ said another. Soon everyone wanted to be reminded why they should leave or stay.

‘Allow me,’ Boris offered. ‘It’s very simple. If you vote leave we have everything back as it was with lots of everything for everyone. If you vote stay, you lose everything and are bossed about by E’esea fish that you didn’t vote for and who have no interest in Pond life. Now vote quickly before you forget everything again!’

The fish looked at each other for inspiration and drifted into two groups as instructed.

‘Marvellous!’ exclaimed Boris. ‘I win! I mean, I make that 52% in favour of leaving to 48% wanting to stay – a waterslide! Now all we have to do is get the message over to E’esea, get our fish back and live happily ever after…’