It is an understood, if not common, understanding amongst many a Singaporean, that if there be a native-born creature on our sunny shores that is truly 110% native because of its mere existence and not because the tourism authorities made it so, it would be the otter.
One supposes that they must have had always been there, yet it is ony in the last few years that the otter families have swum and scampered their way into our hearts.
Straight-out win right there for the otters, for how possible is it to not to squeal and laugh and appreciate the otters who swim all around the Bishan-Toa Payoh park, who surface at points on the Kallang River, who scamper their way right across our HDB carparks, who make their appearance at places far flung (and protected) like the runway of Changi International Airport, and who pop up at unprecedented places at the Marina Barrage.
I'd been trying for months to catch a glimpse of them otters at all of my usual cycling destinations, but despite the fact that so, so many people seemed to have caught sight of them everywhere- at Pasir Ris and Punggol even- the popular sighting spots at Marina Barrage yielded no sight of them.
Until this particular afternoon when I and Daffy biked in from East Coast Park, Fort Road, part of the Kallang PCN near the National Stadium, into the Marina Barrage, across the bridge and the other side of Marina Barrage near the Gardens by the Bay.
I'd nearly missed them.
And if not for the fact that I saw the "Otters Crossing" sign and a group of people standing in a rough semicircle facing the reservoir, I might have missed seeing them entirely. As it were, I hopped off, moved quietly towards where they were, and watched them.
It was quite a large family. I counted at least 15 of them. Their bodies were sleek, smooth yet muscular and strong. They were a healthy family, that was so clear. They were taking life easy too. No rushing, no responsibilities, no adulting, no pressure. The family just lay there around the tree near the rocky breakwater- some of them stretched languidly over their family members.... and snoozed.
The hoomans, on the other hand, were very excited. And it wasn't limited to the only the natives hanging about. The English were thrilled. So were the Japanese. There was quite a bit of whispering. And then everyone quietly tiptoed as close as they dared, snapped away, and tiptoed off.