I’d wanted to have a pint at The Mayflower in Rotherhithe for years, and the opportunity to meet up with an old friend in that part of London gave me the perfect opportunity.

The Mayflower is a justifiably famous London pub.  Along with the Prospect of Whitby in Wapping and The Grapes in Limehouse, it can genuinely be described as Thames-side.  At the rear of the pub is a wooden deck where you can see the river through the gaps in the timbers beneath your table.

I took up a position on the deck, admiring the Thames view, a pint of Scurvy Ale in front of me.  It was a sunny spring lunchtime.  An expression including the words ‘pig’ and ‘shit’ would have described me.

When my friend arrived, he had a dog with him.  It was quite a big dog.

“A Husky and a Malamute cross,” he said.

Despite its Call of the Wild appearance, the dog was actually very well behaved.  It was not until we had enjoyed a second pint, and a Scotch egg and chips, that it betrayed any signs of restlessness.

Quite suddenly, it reminded us of its presence with a Jack London-esque howl.  Something had agitated it.  It continued to howl despite attempts to calm it.  At that same time, a barman appeared.  Not to reprimand us for our inability to quieten the dog, but to issue a general weather warning that:

“A high tide alert has been announced.  Some people may want to come inside.”

The announcement made both me and my friend look down to assess the level of the water below us.

I began to speculate:

“I wonder if a high tide on the Thames comes in slowly or qu…?”

Whoooosh!

We were hit by a tsunami-like surge of water emanating up through the gaps in the decking boards below us.  My nascent question was answered in the most graphic fashion.  A Thames high tide comes in quickly.  Very quickly.

It was a lesson learned.  We should have listened to the dog.  He had been warning us about the imminent soaking for a good ten minutes beforehand.

© Beery Sue

Beery Sue rates The Mayflower a top boozer.

Beery Sue is the author of One for the Road.