Part 1: Shark Fin Rock
Avocados sit in a small wicker basket, ripening in the sun. The basket in turn sits on a fairly high table in the conservatory glassed on three sides, catching as much autumn sun as it can.
On top of the avocados sits Big Ted. Actually, he’s not so big, perhaps no more than ten inches or so, but he has a special power that makes him big.
He has a short coat – not the usual shaggy bear type – light, the colour of weak milky coffee or faded barley straw, cute ears and a little Ted tail.
Big Ted looks out to sea. He’s on shark watch – I kid you not.
I’m not sure where Big Ted came from originally, but one day he arrived from Tajikistan – being a Teddy he had no problems with visas or immigration. He had been conscripted there, involuntarily of course, as a guard to ward off evil spirits and the like – you see he has this talent, some kind of special power. Day and night in the freezing cold he would sit on top of Mission Command’s bed staring out, warning evil, mischievous spirits of big trouble, unless they scarpered fast. Such was Big Ted’s life, it was all he knew – guard duty.
You may well ask – what’s wrong with that? Just a Ted being a Ted in the way Mission Command wanted and needed.
But it’s not that simple. I already had a monkey that Mission Command had given me – small, cuddly, orange and brown with a big smile to keep me company on long expeditions. I called him Monkey. My job was to look after him no matter what the terrain or conditions threw at us. Clients may have secretly smirked and probably wondered about my sanity. To hell with them, this monkey was going climbing and trekking, rain, snow or desert heat. Swamps were tricky, but a dry bag always saved the day.
However, there was a problem – I was just too rough for his sensitive nature, and besides, his fabric and insides were not robust enough to take my rough and tumble life.
It was decided that Mission Command would send me reinforcements. That’s how Big Ted ended up with me.
Then there was problem: monkeys and bears just don’t mix.
It should have been obvious really, as they don’t hang out together in the wild. It was just a dumb move. They wouldn’t sit next to each other, Monkey hadn’t been trained for guard duty and Big Ted knew nothing about the big outdoors. It wasn’t working and Big Ted started to get depressed.
Someone would have to go.
In the end, I called Mission Command and it was agreed that Monkey would be collected and flown to the Tajik capital, Dushanbe.
The deal had been that I would have to replace Big Ted, after all the Mission still needed a proper guard. Monkey was too inexperienced, unworldly and, quite frankly, in need of a hug.
It was just one of those lucky finds. I had been working in Eindhoven in southern Holland and had scoured all the toyshops for a tough and rough replacement who knew a thing or two about handling bad spirits. All I found were kids’ toys, cuddly and cute, and all straight off the factory production line – certainly no personalities and definitely no risk takers.
On a cycle ride along the city canal to a small, pretty town just outside the city, my luck was in. Sitting outside a cafe (I won’t call it a ‘coffee shop’ – this was Holland, where coffee shops only sell brain dead dope), I spotted a toyshop. Inside were the usual suspects, but amongst these toys was a very cheeky monkey sitting alone and out of place. He looked like an orphan rescued from jungle poachers, and was now imprisoned inside this Dutch zoo. It was just a question of time before he was sold off, probably to have his ears yanked off and stamped on in a temper tantrum fit. I couldn’t take that risk.
I named him Vince after Vincent van Gogh, who indecently cut his own ear off – Jeez; ears are not safe in this place.
Vince happily packed his bags and headed off to the high Pamirs.
I’m told Vince makes a great guard but causes mayhem around the place. What do you expect if you have a monkey as a guard? I ask you! He gets on well with Monkey as well as Fred and Boris – but that’s another story in itself.
What to do with Big Ted? Of course, there were a few issues at first.
When not on expedition, he didn’t like lying in the bed – he looked unhappy and always ended up on his belly crawling towards the side.
I wasn’t sure, but maybe he didn’t like me. I mean he was in a different country now, a different culture. Maybe taking Teds out of an environment that they know and are used to is just darn right cruel. Whatever was going on with him, I felt bad.
So, I had a dilemma. Then the penny dropped. Guard duty – yes, that might work, and as my house is demon free (I think) the job would be a breeze.
Ted sat upright on the pillow in front of the wooden bedstead looking out at whatever Big Teds look out at.
Fine, or so I thought.
Although Big Ted is a shorthaired bear, he had rather a lot of tight curls hanging over his eyes. In fact, unless one physically parted this hair, his eyes were hidden. I often tried to get him to see ‘properly’ to no avail – the hair would always clump back over his eyes.
And what eyes he has – shiny obsidian, deep and enchanting.
After a call to Mission Command, it was decided that a very slight trim would be the best thing to do.
Carefully I snipped the very milky brown curls until his eyes were exposed and able to catch the light.
He looked great.
However, there was another problem.
All was fine until he sat on guard duty. Then I saw the absolute horror and trauma in his eyes. He looked scared stiff. My God, what happened, what had I done, and what had he been seeing whilst on Tajiki evil spirit watch?
He must have seen monsters in the room. Poor Ted, and I had cut the hair from around his eyes so he couldn’t hide them from the terrible things that may still be manifesting. Maybe just being on guard duty was enough to trigger all these bad memories.
I needed to act fast, so I made him a little cave between the two pillows, where he could sit on guard but also be close to me and easily slip under the covers in case it all got too much for him.
This was going to take some time.
We have this thing called Child Line in the UK for children to call if they are having problems with adults; you know, all those wicked things adults can do. I did ponder calling Ted Line as I felt Big Ted had been abused – he was used as cheap labour really, being put on guard, a bit like a child working in a factory. However, I didn’t think it would help much, as Tajikistan is so far away, and besides, it may be normal there using Teds as guards.
For a time he seemed fine, almost settled, let’s say safe. But is just safe, safe enough? Probably not, because this is what happened next:
I was going to Berlin and had decided to take Big Ted on an adventure of sorts. Well, not really an adventure but a short work trip to Berlin. The weather was brisk and just right for his warm coat, I thought. I did mention it to him and he seemed fine. However, on the morning of departure he was face down on the sheet crawling back into his cave. It was a clear statement – Big Ted wasn’t going anywhere by choice.
So he stayed behind in his cave with the blanket pulled up so only his head showed out. He looked safe and happy.
On return, the weather was nice; a warm sun cut through the chilly mornings, and there was no wind or rain. My bedroom is rather gloomy, north facing, sunless and empty. Not much fun for a Ted I thought. I brought him out and sat him on the avocados.
Finally, he seemed happy, gazing out at the vast empty sea with nothing in between.
Big Ted had found his place.
There were no demons to chase away – I think he had realised that by then; only a few fishing boats showing green or red night-lights. He quickly sussed out that, as he was facing south, green meant the boats were going west, and red going east. I told him that’s where the idea of traffic lights had come from – give way to red and go on green. Stops crashes, you see.
There were also plenty of sunrises and sunsets tur
ning the sky and clouds a multitude of reds, oranges and inky blues, along with rainbows, storms, lightning and thunder. He had never seen such wonders before, and now loves these things nature conjures up from thin air.
But he’s not so sure about the seagulls or the cats. He sees those off fast before they get too interested in the fish swimming in the garden pond.
I always felt that there was a little more for Ted than the ever-changing sea and sky, as he gazed out into space. There was something out there that he liked; something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Then one day I saw it: Shark Fin Rock.
I knew it was there – it had always been there as part of the low tide landscape. It looks indistinct, just a small black rock among the other ones dotted about the vast wet sand. Some of these rocks are covered in seaweed and mussels, with a few shallow pools where kids like to hunt for crabs. However, this rock you never give a second glance to unless the tide is rolling over it, half exposing it before it’s either totally uncovered or submerged. It sits way out, close to the low tide mark, and, for perhaps fifteen minutes just before the tide is out, and for another fifteen just after the tide has turned to rush back in, the rock becomes alive.
You can’t see it as it lies with no water on the empty sand, but once it starts to cover, you can see it clear as anything. The rock is about twelve feet long and not very high – maybe no more than two feet, and not very wide – so it looks like a long, black raised surfboard, with one exception – it has a fin at the rear, and when the water laps over the rock it looks like a sinister shark fin. In fact, the first time I saw it sticking out on its own with the water half covering the ‘back’, I almost shouted: ‘Shark! Shark’!
I’m not sure what Big Ted thinks about sharks, but he sure enjoys looking out for them. Pods of porpoises and a few dolphins often swim by the house looking very shark like and I’m sure he keeps a close vigilance on them.
As a lighthouse marks and warns of treacherous rocks, Shark Fin Rock warns Big Ted of sharks and other monsters, but they are out to sea and never set foot on land. He doesn’t have to engage with these monsters, he can just observe them safely from on top of the avocados. At night, he often comes and sits in his little cave.
No more drama.
Such is the new life of Big Ted.
There is one more thing, not really a problem, more like a mistake I made. Foolishly, I thought that he might like a friend, well a girlfriend actually. I found a second hand, well worn, shaggy and, I assumed, previously loved bear, about the same size at Big Ted. I called her Mrs. Leenee (my nickname for Big Ted is Tedaleenee).
However, as soon as I sat her down on the table, not in the wicker basket with the avocados, but next to it, to introduce them, I knocked the table slightly with my knee. It vibrated and Big Ted moved and looked up at me. He was shaking too, especially his arm and head. Jeez – this was a big no, he didn’t want her near him, this was his spot and Shark Fin Rock was clearly for him alone.
OK Big Ted, I’ve got the message. Mrs. Leenee (I guess she needs a new name) now sits alone in a chair with not much to do.
I feel sorry for her. Does anyone want a small shaggy bear to put on watch?
Oh, I nearly forgot, someone just reminded me…
For some time, I had been trying to find inspiration to write a short fiction story about Shark Fin Rock…I mean the rock is inspiration enough, but I just couldn’t get a story out. I had the idea of two boys seeing the fin and then going shark fishing at high tide, but that didn’t work out, just a few poor lines and no catch.
So thanks Big Ted – I now have a story for the rock, well, kind of anyway…and certainly not fiction.
I often ask him about passing sharks at night but he just keeps quiet and reminds me that that’s his job – not mine!
Big Ted