A process sketch, since events won’t let me get to my computer.
When I was little, we lived on a cattle property and learned to swim in the dam (this is why I can’t dive). To keep us safe, or because fathers like to mess with their children’s minds, my father told my little sister and I that bunyips lived in the dams – they liked eating children’s toes, but were afraid of adults, so it was safe to swim as long as our parents were keeping an eye on us, but if we wandered into the dam unsupervised WE WOULD BE EATEN. Also, there was a mystery behind the main dam which had filled, emptied and filled again in two days when it was first dug, and no-one had ever touched the bottom.
This was extraordinarily effective and I still won’t go swimming alone, and am alarmed at the thought of going into water through which I can’t see.