Maybe the dingo ate your passport!
In the summer of 2000, my best friend and I backpacked through New Zealand and Australia. We decided to make Fraser Island, off the coast of Brisbane and heralded as the world's largest sand island, a stop on our travels. At the time it was cheap livin' so we were camping. We took a ferry and trekked to our campsite, enjoying the scenery but worrying that daylight would run out before we got to our spot.
We enjoyed our first evening, feasting on dried noodles reconstituted with hot water from our little coleman stove. The next day we had a big trek planned, about 4 miles to Lake Wobby, a hidden oasis in a sea of sand. We packed our bags with important travel docs, sunblock and snacks and were on our way. It was a longer walk than we imagined, and we were flat out by the time we reached the lake. It being July, daylight was scarce so we didn't even have that much time to enjoy the lake before having to head back to camp, lest we be lost in the dark.
Back at camp we unload our bags and get to working on dinner. Yum, more reconstituted noodles! Darkness fell, we told ghost stories and then were ready for bed. It was then that we noticed Clare's bag, which she had set near our tent, was missing. It was slightly worrying, as it had her passport and airline tickets in it. We were worried that it was stolen by a sly thief, and started frantically searching in the darkness with our feeble flashlights. After about an hour, we decided that there was nothing to be done until daylight.
The next day we woke up and started looking around, and found the bag not 100 feet from our site, ripped to shreds. Apparently the dried apricots left in Clare's bag had attracted one of the resident dingoes, who was hungry for whatever it could find. Luckily, US passports are sturdy so no damage there. We continue to have a good laugh at the situation to this day.