We were camping beside a river just at the end of the tidal reaches. There was a shallow rapidy bit and I built a dam across it. As the tide made it's way up river the dam got covered and was about 6" under water when there was a bit of a splash as something made it's way over the top. I thought it might have been a sea trout so got the fishing rod out and had a few casts but nothing was biting. I scanned the water for clues to the disturbance but the dark depths were revealing nothing. I left it for a while and later in the day decided to go for a paddle/wade. The water was crystal clear and I was looking for little trout when upstream a slight movement caught my eye. I glanced in the direction of the movement, peering into the deeper water but nothing was there. I took a step forward and again something moved. Whatever it was it was down deep. Heart starting to beat a bit faster I took a step forward. This time I could see clearly, it was the biggest flounder known to man! It came right at me! I tried to avoid it but it changed direction to meet me, accelerated on a collision course and head butted me on the shin, then carried on its way down stream.

Well I was in shock! I climbed out of the river, (in case there were more) and ran up to the tent. At this point I should have said "hey everyone, I just saw a really big flounder" but oh no I had to go into details and shout "I was just attacked by a giant flounder!" Even as the words left my mouth I knew...knew they would haunt me for the rest of my life! The words echoed around the tent, the forest, the fields,...not even the laughter coming from all sides drowned it out. Today 20 years later, at the ripe old age of 35, when we're in company dad'll say "Hey remember you were attacked by the giant flounder" followed by much laughing!

(Editor's note) Apart from a teeny bit of artistic license the above is all true and explains the authors fear of anything flat.