“Radar,” said Ben. “The Tobermory has radar, doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” said Mr Rigger. “We have radar …” His voice tailed off. And then, his eyes sparkling, he exclaimed, “I see what you mean. We can track him on our radar while keeping just far enough away from him that he doesn’t notice us. What an excellent idea!”
“Good thinking, Mr Rigger,” said the Captain, and then, hastily correcting himself, “I mean, good thinking, MacTavish, B.” He paused. “As long as Thorn hasn’t already left.”
“I don’t think he has,” said Badger. “If you look over at the harbour, you’ll see his ship, the Barracuda. It’s just preparing to sail. We still have time to follow it.”
“All right,” said the Captain. “I’ll go and take a look.” He paused, as if in doubt. “But what do you think we should do if we find Mike on board when they get to this Shark Island, wherever that is?”
Badger had his answer at the ready. “We’ll make contact with him,” he said. “We’ll get a message to him somehow that he’s no longer accused of theft. And …” He did not finish.
“And?” asked the Captain.
“And we can also see what Shark Island has to hide,” he said. “You see, sir, it might have something to do with Mike’s father’s disappearance.”
The Captain thought about this for a moment. Then he said, “And I’d certainly welcome the chance to bring our friend Mr Thorn to justice.”
“No friend of ours,” said Mr Rigger.
“No, indeed,” said the Captain. “But then sometimes you call people you really don’t like your friends. They’re not real friends, of course. You do understand that, don’t you, MacTavish and Tomkins?”
“Of course,” said Badger, smiling. Then he added. “And thank you, sir, and thank you, Mr Rigger. Thank you for wanting to help our friend …”
“Our real friend,” interjected Ben.
“You’re welcome,” said the Captain.
“Indeed, yes,” said Mr Rigger. “So let’s get ready to sail. I’ll turn the radar on so that we can track the Barracuda.”
“Good,” said the Captain. “All hands on deck, Mr Rigger.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Mr Rigger, as he swung into action.
The Barracuda was a well-equipped and fast sailing vessel, capable of just a bit more speed than the Tobermory. But to do her maximum speed she required to be handled skilfully – and that was something that was beyond Bert Thorn, who, like all pirates, was a sloppy sailor. So the Tobermory was able to keep up with the Barracuda and stay just out of her sight. This required a steady and experienced hand at the wheel, so Captain Macbeth took personal charge.
They sailed through the day and it was almost dark when they spotted land up ahead. Checking the navigation chart he had brought up to the helm, the Captain saw that they were approaching a group of small islands. There were five of them, all named after birds – Eagle Island, Albatross Island, Swallow Island, Penguin Island and Blackbird Island. None of them was called Shark Island.
But then Badger suddenly noticed something as he glanced over at the Captain’s chart. “Do you remember the shape of the island on Captain Tommy’s chart – the one that was called Shark Island?” he said.
Thomas remembered, having had a good look at the chart when they had first taken it out of Captain Tommy’s sea-chest. “It was very narrow at the bottom and broad at the top,” he said.”
Badger nodded. “Yes,” he said, “that’s exactly how it was. And there was a long beach up at the top, wasn’t there? A beach with quicksand?”
Thomas agreed that this was so. He looked more closely at the Captain’s chart, still unfolded before them. As he did so, Badger leaned forward. “Captain,” he said, “would you mind if I turned your chart upside down?”
The Captain looked surprised. “Why would you want to do that, Tomkins?”
“Because …” began Badger, leaning further forward and turning the chart through one hundred and eighty degrees. “Because if you look at it this way …”
“Shark Island!” exclaimed Thomas, pointing to the island marked on the chart as Eagle Island. “Look, it’s exactly the right shape.”
“And there’s the beach and the river,” said Badger. “And there’s the volcano. So, you see, Captain Tommy’s old chart was drawn accurately enough but … upside down!”
“To confuse people,” said Thomas, his voice rising in excitement.
Mr Rigger had been alerted by the hubbub and had now joined them. He and the Captain examined the chart and agreed that Badger was quite right.
“The radar screen is showing the Barracuda heading to Eagle Island,” said Mr Rigger. “So I think we should let him carry on there. We can anchor here.” He indicated Albatross Island, which was only a short distance from Eagle Island. “Then we can see what he’s up to tomorrow.”
The Captain agreed. “There’s a nice little anchorage right here,” he said, pointing to a place on the chart. “From there we’ll get a very good view of Eagle … I mean, Shark, Island.”
He swung the wheel until the ship was on the right course, and just as night descended, the Tobermory nosed her way into the shelter of Albatross Island and dropped her great anchor in the waters of a quiet bay. They were just in time – anchoring in the darkness can be difficult and sometimes dangerous. They were safe though, their anchor dug firmly into the sand of the sea bed, holding them exactly where they wanted to be until morning came and it was time for the next stage of their adventure.
At dinner in the mess hall that night, the friends were all seated at the same table when William Edward Hardtack and Geoffrey Shark sauntered over towards them.
“Right, everybody,” muttered Poppy under her breath. “Don’t let them get under your skin. Just stay cool.”
Hardtack smiled – a sneering, mocking smile. His nose, though, was still swollen from where he had been punched by Mike.
“So where’s your friend?” he asked. “Looks like he’s gone missing, doesn’t it?”
Poppy looked up from her plate of spaghetti. “If you’re referring to Mike,” she said. “He’s decided to take a break.”
“Ha!” mocked Hardtack. “Is that what you call it? Taking a break? Well, there’s another word for it, you know, and that’s desertion. You can also call it jumping ship – but whatever you say it amounts to the same thing.”
“Yes,” said Shark. “And you know how that used to be punished back in the old days? I won’t tell you, because it might put you off your dinner.”
Hardtack was enjoying himself. “Of course I knew he wouldn’t last long,” he said. “That’s right, isn’t it, Sharky? Didn’t I say to you that sort of guy will never have what it takes to be a proper sailor. Oh yes, he can row around in some little dinghy and catch fish for his mum and all that, but he will never make a real sailor.”
“Out of his depth,” said Shark. “People like that should know their place. They should stay where they are – on some sad little island somewhere.”
Fee found it difficult to control herself. “He’s twice as good as you are, Hardtack,” she muttered. “And you too, Shark.”
Hardtack spun round. “Did I hear somebody say something? Oh, it’s you, MacTavish, F. So you think he’s as good as Sharky and me, do you? Well, I’ve got news for you. He’s a thief. He’s nothing but a common thief.”
“And like all thieves, he’s run away,” said Shark.
“That’s right, Sharky,” agreed Hardtack. “And it’s very fortunate that he has. The last thing you want on a ship is a thief.”
This was too much for Badger. Rising to his feet, he said to Hardtack, “Listen, Hardtack. You’d better be careful who you call a thief. We know your friend Flubber planted the sextant and compass in Mike’s locker. And if he’s involved so are you and your pal Shark.”
Hardtack made a dismissive gesture. “Oh we are, are we? And I suppose you’ve got proof of that.”
Badger hesitated, but only fo
r the briefest moment. Then he said, “As a matter of fact, we might. Has it occurred to you that somebody might have actually seen Flubber go into his cabin with the sextant and compass?”
Badger was watching Hardtack’s expression closely as he said this, and he saw a sudden flicker of unease pass over the bully’s face. And this was enough to confirm what they all thought, though it was not proof of course, because no one had really seen Flubber take the sextant and compass into the cabin he shared with Mike.
“Who? Who saw him?” stuttered Hardtack. “It’s a lie – just a lie.”
“Is it?” asked Badger.
Geoffrey Shark opened his mouth to say something, but was taken aside by Hardtack, who whispered something into his ear. Then the two of them moved away, shooting a furious glance at Badger as they went.
“That sorted them out,” said Poppy.
“Well done, Badger,” said Fee. “But who saw Flubber?”
Badger smiled. “Nobody,” he said. “But they don’t know that, do they?”
Ben frowned. He did not like the idea of telling a lie – ever. But then he thought again. What had Badger actually said? He remembered his precise words: Has it occurred to you that somebody might have actually seen him?
Badger had never claimed that somebody had seen Flubber. He had really just asked them whether they thought somebody might have seen him. That was a very different thing.
And there was something troubling Poppy. Hardtack had talked about Mike being nothing but a common thief, but how did he know that the compass and sextant were missing? There had been no public announcement of this, and yet he knew, which suggested that if anybody was a thief, then it was him – or one of his friends. She wondered whether she could make something of this, but decided not to. It was always difficult with Hardtack and his gang: you never seemed to have the proof you needed. They were as slippery as eels, she thought, although she did not wish to be unfair to eels …
A message from Mike
Ben was glad to get up the following morning. He had not slept well, and his dreams had actually been nightmares. In one of them he was being pursued across a beach by Bert Thorn, who was waving a cutlass in the air and shouting terrible threats. In another he was tied up right down at the bottom of the ship in the bilges and water was coming in fast through a hole. When you wake up from dreams like that, you are always pleased to discover yourself in one piece and safe in your bed – or hammock, in Ben’s case.
At muster call that morning, Mr Rigger told Ben, Fee and their Middle Deck friends to stay behind to get special instructions. Everybody else, he said, was to carry on with their normal routine, as the ship would stay at anchor all day.
A lot of people groaned. The bay was just right for snorkelling, with clear blue water and a sea bed of pure white sand, yet most of them would be cooped up in the classrooms.
“You seven,” Mr Rigger said, addressing Ben, Fee, Badger, Thomas, Poppy, Tanya and Angela, “have been put on special duties with me.”
“Why them?” complained Shark. “What have they done to deserve special duties when we have to sit in the classroom? It’s not fair, sir!”
Mr Rigger told Shark that it was none of his business.
The reason why they had all been chosen for special duties was of course that Ben and Badger had been the ones to pass on the information about Mike signing up on Bert Thorn’s ship. As their close friends, Poppy, Fee, Tanya and Angela could obviously be trusted and relied on to help them in finding out what had happened to Mike. And Thomas Seagrape was chosen because he knew his way around Caribbean islands and would be a valuable part of the team.
Drawing them all aside, Mr Rigger explained what he and the Captain had in mind. “We think that the best thing to do is to keep a close watch on the Barracuda. Captain Macbeth is going to let you use his best telescope – you can set it up on the deck.”
Angela and Fee went to fetch the telescope from the Captain’s cabin and soon had it set up in a position that gave them an uninterrupted view of the bay on Shark Island where the Barracuda lay at anchor.
It was not long before they saw that there was a great deal of activity on the other ship. “They’re unloading something,” said Angela as she peered through the powerful lens of the telescope. “They’re lowering things into a large rowing boat.”
“What sort of things?” asked Poppy.
Angela struggled to make out the details. “I can’t really tell,” she said. “Some boxes and … yes, that looks like a set of oars and … and yes, some cans of fuel, I think.”
They took it in turns to look through the telescope. Fee saw the crew of the Barracuda unloading some machinery and several large sacks. Poppy saw the rowing boat make the short journey to shore, transfer its cargo onto a jetty, and then return to the Barracuda for more. And then it was Tanya’s turn. She saw the crew climb down a ladder and board a motor boat which then shot off, leaving, as far as she could make out, only one figure on the deck.
It was Thomas who identified who it was when it was his turn to look through the telescope. “That’s Mike!” he shouted. “It looks like he’s the only person left on board.”
Fee ran off to tell Mr Rigger, who rushed back to see for himself. “Yes,” he said, as he trained the telescope on the distant ship. “That looks like him all right. And it does seem as if he’s all alone.”
“What should we do?” asked Poppy. “Should we go over there?”
Mr Rigger looked thoughtful. Twiddling his moustache – a sure sign that he was thinking hard – he said, “What if the Barracuda’s crew suddenly come back? We wouldn’t want a show-down, would we?”
Badger had an idea. “Mike knows all about signalling flags,” he said. “If we send a message, he should be able to see it, even from this distance.”
Mr Rigger thought that this was an excellent idea. “Fetch the flags,” he said to Ben. “We’ll run some up right away.”
They made the first message a brief one. Selecting the flags for the letters M, I, K and E, they ran them up on a long line that rose right to the top of the mast and fluttered in the breeze. With bated breath they waited for a response.
“I don’t think he’s seen them,” said Angela, who had resumed her post at the telescope. “He’s just standing there, doing nothing.”
But then she reported excitedly, “No, he’s not, he’s … yes, he’s putting up some flags.”
Now there was complete silence as they waited for Angela to decipher the message spelt out by the flags Mike had raised on the deck of the Barracuda. “He says …YES,” she said.
Turning to Badger, Mr Rigger gave his order. “Put this message up,” he said. “WHAT DO YOU WANT US TO DO?”
Up went the colourful flags, and after a few minutes Angela read out the answering message. “MEET ME ON THE BEACH TONIGHT AT NINE.”
A buzz of excitement ran through the group as a host of questions crowded through their minds. What had Mike discovered? Was he in danger? How would he get from the Barracuda to the beach? If he could get to the beach, could he get back to the Tobermory itself?
Mr Rigger sent the final message himself. “WILL DO,” he signalled.
There was something that Poppy was keen to ask. “Can we all go?” she asked.
Mr Rigger hesitated. Then he gave his answer. “I don’t see why not,” he said. “But keep it to yourselves. I don’t want news of this getting out. Understand?”
They all nodded. “We’ll keep it strictly secret,” said Tanya. “We promise.”
“Good,” said Mr Rigger. “So off you all go to class now and report back to me after dinner. Eight-thirty sharp. And wear something dark. We don’t want to be spotted by anyone.”
At exactly half past eight, while everybody else was busy down below, the group assembled by one of the liberty boat stations on the top deck. Mr Rigger was there in dark clothing and without his customary white cap. Although it was already twilight, there was a half-moon which shed a certain amount of
light and they would have to be careful, he said, not to be visible. All the others were wearing dark clothing too, just as he had instructed them.
As stealthily as they could they lowered one of the liberty boats into the water and then climbed down a rope ladder to board it. Poppy and Thomas were the best rowers, so they each took charge of an oar while the others crouched down behind the sides of the boat.
“Cast off,” whispered Mr Rigger as he took control of the tiller.
Silently Poppy and Thomas dipped their oars into the water and began to pull. Their skill paid off: hardly a splash could be heard as the blades of the oars slipped into the sea and propelled them away from the Tobermory towards the shore of Shark Island. They gave a wide berth to the Barracuda, on which a few lights could be seen shining from portholes. There was no sign of life on the other ship and it looked like no watch had been posted to keep a look-out.
“They’ll be down below drinking rum,” whispered Mr Rigger. “That’s what pirates do.” He shook his head in disapproval. “Useless bunch – not a single good sailor amongst the lot of them. Just drinking and noisy parties and stealing – that’s all they’re good for.”
It didn’t take them long to reach the beach, where they dragged their boat up from the edge of the water to keep it from drifting away with the tide.
It had become darker, as the moon had retreated behind a cloud. Gathering them all around him, Mr Rigger explained that they should split into three groups and keep watch at various points on the beach for Mike. “If you meet him,” he said, “whistle like this and we’ll come to you.” He gave a sample whistle; Ben thought that it sounded very like one of the shore birds that you see chasing after the retreating wavelets; Fee thought that it sounded very much like somebody trying to sound like a bird; and Badger thought that it sounded just like somebody trying to let people know that they had met up with somebody they had been hoping to meet up with. He did not say this, though, and simply nodded like everybody else to acknowledge Mr Rigger’s instruction.
Fee, Poppy and Tanya were all in one group, led by Poppy. They made their way as quietly as possible down to the end of the beach. Mangrove trees grew here – those trees with their strange, finger-like roots that dip their way into the edge of the sea and seem not to mind the salt water. Mr Rigger had told them not to use a torch, so they could not see very well. Poppy narrowly avoided tripping up over a mangrove root and Tanya scraped her shin on a rock. But they eventually reached the end of the beach and sat down on the sand to keep a look-out for Mike. It was now five minutes to nine, which meant that if he was coming, he would be there at any moment.