Atticus Claw Goes Ashore (6 page)

8

On board the
Golden Doubloon
, the magpies were scrubbing seagull poop off the poop deck. More precisely Thug and Slasher were scrubbing seagull poop off the poop deck. Jimmy was up on the mainsail talking to Pam.

Pam, it turned out, wasn’t a little girl. She was Captain Black Beard-Jumper’s parrot: and she was mean, like the Captain. That’s why she liked Jimmy. And Jimmy liked her. Or at least he pretended he did. Pam had something he wanted: information. Jimmy had been eavesdropping: the word amongst the crew was that the Captain was going after treasure. There were rumours of a precious casket. And Jimmy was determined to find out what was in it.

‘Did I tell you about the time I stole a tiara, Pamela?’ Jimmy bragged. ‘It was so cool. I made this speech, right. There were thousands of birds there. All hanging on my every word …’

Thug and Slasher were listening to the conversation.

‘Yeah, and then you got arrested,’ Slasher muttered. ‘By Claw.’ He pushed a filthy sponge around the deck with his hooked foot.

The two magpies were chained to a bucket. Not that they could have escaped. They were surrounded by sea. They hadn’t had sight of land for days. They had absolutely no clue where they were.

Pam didn’t hear Slasher. ‘Nice one, Jim!’ she squawked. ‘You’re the kind of bird who can get on in life, especially on a pirate ship. Even though you’re not a parrot.’

‘I hate parrots,’ Thug murmured. ‘They’re worse than melons.’ Pam had tied his tail to a mop with a bit of rope. He sloshed about in the poop, trying not to trip over. ‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’

‘I’ve told you, Pamela,’ Jimmy said, ‘magpies
are just as good as parrots. We’re nasty. We’re cruel. We’re clever.’ He paused. ‘And we like treasure.’

‘That’s true, Thug,’ Slasher said. ‘You’ve got to admit the Boss is right about that.’

‘Yeah, I like a bit of treasure,’ Thug nodded. ‘Especially glittery things. Not much sign of it round here, though,’ he added bitterly. He poked at a sticky seagull dropping with the mop. ‘’Ere, Slash, pass the Scrubbit, will you?’

Slasher pushed a pack of soap powder towards him.

Thug dunked the mop in it and swept it from side to side with his tail. The seagull dropping dissolved into a gloopy soup.

‘Magpies can’t talk human though, like parrots can,’ Pam said dubiously. ‘I mean, I like you, Jim, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t know what the Captain will say when he sees you and realises Toothless Tony bought the wrong birds.’

Captain Black Beard-Jumper had been holed up in his cabin since he rejoined the ship. The magpies had only glimpsed the Captain once, through the cabin window. Captain Black Beard-Jumper had been sitting at a desk with Pam on his shoulder and a small black cat on his knee, surrounded by charts, muttering to himself. He was squinting at a scrap of paper, which he pulled
from a bottle with a thin dagger.

‘The Captain will love me, Pam,’ Jimmy boasted. ‘Don’t worry.’ He sidled towards Pam and put a protective wing around her shoulder. Jimmy cleared his throat. It was time to find out about the treasure. ‘So,’ he said nonchalantly, ‘what’s this I hear about a casket?’

‘I can’t really say, Jim,’ Pam said. ‘It’s a secret.’

Down below on the poop deck, Thug and Slasher stopped scrubbing.

‘Did she say “secret”?’ Thug whispered.

The magpies loved secrets.

‘Yeah!’ Slasher whispered back. ‘Shhh. Let’s listen.’

‘You know all the Captain’s secrets, don’t you, Pam?’ Jimmy asked slyly.

‘I suppose I do, Jim. He talks to me,’ Pam said proudly. ‘He says I’m his only real friend. He says if he tells the other pirates things they’ll cut his throat and steal everything.’

‘It must be hard, having all that responsibility,’ Jimmy said. He frowned as if he were thinking something over. ‘You’re
his
friend, Pam,’ he said eventually, ‘but what about
you
?’

‘What do you mean?’ Pam blinked.

‘What you need, Pamela, is a friend of your own,’ Jimmy said. ‘It’s lonely out here at sea. You need someone you can share things with.’ He snuggled closer to Pam. ‘A bird you can trust.’ He paused. ‘
Me
, for instance.’

‘He’s trying to get her to tell him the secret!’ Slasher said excitedly.

‘That’s clever, that is,’ Thug remarked in awe. ‘No wonder he’s the boss.’

‘I’d like to tell you, Jim, I really would …’ Pam wavered. ‘But …’

‘What’s the downside, Pamela?’ Jimmy wheedled. ‘You said it yourself. I can’t talk to humans. I can’t tell anyone what you tell me and the Captain’s never gonna find out unless
you
tell him.’

‘Well, when you put it like that, Jim …’ Pam put her beak to his ear and started to whisper.

‘She’s telling him!’ Thug and Slasher hopped up and down.

Slasher fell over the mop.

Thug tripped over the sponge.

They ended up in a heap, covered in slimy poop.

‘There, so now you know.’ Pam stopped whispering. ‘Promise you won’t tell, Jim?’ she begged.

Jimmy’s eyes gleamed. Pam’s information was better than anything he could have hoped for. He gave her a little pat and removed his wing from her shoulder.

‘Of course I won’t, Pamela,’ he said solemnly. ‘It’s
our
secret now!’

‘I’d better get off and see if the Captain wants anything,’ Pam said. She sidled to the edge of the boom and lifted her tail feathers.

SPLAT!

The first dropping landed on Thug’s head.

PLOP!

The second one landed on Slasher’s beak.

Pam glanced down at the poop deck. ‘Keep scrubbing!’ she yelled. ‘Or
I’ll make you do the Captain’s poo bucket. He had curried eel for dinner last night.’ She flew off.

Jimmy fluttered down towards the poop deck and perched on the railing. He looked at Thug and Slasher with distaste. ‘Clean yourselves up, you two.’ He grimaced. ‘You’re a disgrace to magpies.’

‘Sorry, Boss.’ The magpies hopped into the bucket and splashed about. They hopped out, dripping with filthy water.

‘What did she say?’ Thug asked eagerly.

‘Yeah, what’s the secret?’ Slasher echoed.

Jimmy glanced round. ‘It seems like we’ve landed on our feet after all.’ Jimmy told the gang about the mermaid in the casket. He told them about the message in the bottle. He told them about Fishhook Frank being marooned on a desert island and how Fishhook would lead them to the casket when the Captain had captured him. He told them about how to summon the mermaid with the rhyme.

‘A mermaid!’ Thug sat down on the mop. ‘That’s lovely, that is. It’s like a fairytale! ’Ere, Jimmy, do you think she’ll give us some of her hair to make a nest snuggler with?’

‘She’ll give us anything we want, Thug,’ Jimmy said patiently. ‘That’s the point.’

‘Anything?’ Thug repeated. His beady eyes grew round. ‘You mean like shiny things.’

‘Yeah,’ Jimmy grinned. ‘Shiny things, worms, a new nest under the pier, clean washing to poo on, revenge on Atticus Claw. You name it: the mermaid will give it to us. Once the Captain finds the casket all we have to do is say the rhyme.’

‘Magic mermaid on the shore, please grant me what I’m wishing for,’ the words rolled out of Slasher’s beak. ‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’

‘That’s nice, that is, Slash,’ Thug said. ‘Very poetic.’

‘Thanks, Thug,’ Slasher said modestly. ‘I made up the last bit.’ Suddenly a thought struck him. ‘What if the mermaid can’t understand us, though?’ he said anxiously. ‘What if she can’t speak Magpie?’

‘Of course she can speak Magpie,’ Thug said promptly. ‘She’s magic.’

‘But what if Captain Black Beard-Jumper says the rhyme first?’ Slasher said doubtfully. ‘The mermaid will grant his wishes instead of ours.’

‘Relax, Slasher,’ Jimmy Magpie soothed. ‘He won’t. Think about it. Thug’s right. The mermaid understands Magpie,’ he said slyly, ‘but the Captain doesn’t.’

‘I still don’t get it, Boss,’ Slasher said.

‘That’s cos you’re stupid!’ Jimmy flared. ‘You’ve got to use your brain. The Captain won’t think twice if he hears a bunch of magpies chattering, will he? He won’t know we’re summoning the mermaid in Magpie. By the time he realises what’s going on, it’ll be too late.’ Jimmy’s eyes shone bright with glee. ‘The mermaid will be ours. Until then all
you
have to do is keep scrubbing.’ Jimmy made himself comfortable on a pile of nets. ‘And all I have to do is lie back and wait.’

9

Two days later …

At a busy port in the Moluccan islands of Indonesia, Commander Whale was introducing Mr Tucker and his crew to their new vessel.

Atticus crept along the pontoon after the children. The temperature was roasting. All the humans were wearing loose cotton clothes and hats. Atticus’s paws felt hot and sticky. His fur was dusty. He wanted a drink of water. He couldn’t wait to get out of the sun and into the shade.

‘She’s small enough to navigate the islands,’ the Commander explained. ‘But big enough to withstand heavy weather.’

It took Atticus a moment to work out he was talking about their ship.

‘Here we are!’

The yacht was about fifteen metres long. It was made of wood. A tall mast extended into the sky. It had a rope ladder attached to the top of it, which stretched all the way down to the railing that ran around the edge. Taut metal ropes criss-crossed like spider webs from the mast to different points on the vessel. Beneath them, lengths of rope lay in neat coils on the deck. It all looked horribly complicated to Atticus. He’d never been on a yacht before. He’d once been on Mr Tucker’s fishing boat, but that didn’t have sails. Apart from that he’d only ever been on a cruise ship, which was like a floating hotel. You didn’t even know you were moving.

‘I like her name,’ Mr Tucker said. ‘
Destiny
.’ He rolled the word around on his tongue.

Destiny
. It was one of those words that said a lot in not very many letters, Atticus thought dismally. He wondered what their destiny would be: whether they would save Inspector Cheddar in time, or not.

‘There are three cabins,’ the Commander explained. He led the way down
the narrow steps into the hold. Atticus padded after him. He thought he might melt. It was even hotter below deck. A seating area led on to a small kitchen. Beyond that a door led to the cabins.

‘The boat has all the latest computer navigation equipment,’ the Commander pointed to a screen. ‘And there’s a radio so you can keep in touch with me on the frigate. We’ve asked the Americans to send over a smaller ship for us so we can provide back-up in an emergency, but it might take a few days. Until then you’re on your own.’

A porter clambered down the steps with their bags and put them in the cabins.

‘I think that’s it,’ the Commander said. He shook hands with Mr Tucker. ‘Good luck.’

The Commander and the porter disappeared.

‘I’ll go and unpack the first aid kit,’ Mrs Cheddar said. ‘Are you sure you’re okay, darling?’ she asked her husband anxiously. ‘You don’t want a lie down or anything?’

‘No,’ Inspector Cheddar sounded melancholy. He took his notebook out of his pocket. ‘Besides, I’m still on police duty.’ He scowled at Atticus.
‘Which I take more seriously than
some
officers I could mention.’

Atticus tried to ignore him. He wished Inspector Cheddar wouldn’t keep harping on about things. It wasn’t exactly helping.

‘Put these on.’ Mr Tucker gave each crew member a life jacket. There was even one for Atticus. Michael held him while Callie put his front paws through the holes and clipped up the straps. It made Atticus even hotter. He thought he might faint.

‘Ready?’ Mr Tucker said. ‘Then let’s get under way.’

They followed Mr Tucker back up the steps to the cockpit. He started the engine. Mrs Tucker untied the ropes that held the boat to its mooring. It slipped away from the pontoon and out to sea.

As the noise and bustle of the port faded, Atticus began to feel a bit brighter. The sea was calm. A cool breeze played about his whiskers. He found a shady spot on the deck and lay down for a snooze. Maybe sailing wasn’t so bad after all.

‘Atticus!’ Mr Tucker roared. ‘What do youze thinks you’re doing? Go fooorrre and check the spinnaker.’

Atticus looked at him blankly.
What was he talking about?

‘Hurry up!’

Atticus got up with a sigh and headed towards the rear of the boat.

‘I said foooorrre, not aft!’ Mr Tucker yelled. ‘Don’t youze knows your bow from your stern?!!’

Atticus didn’t.

‘Don’t worry, Atticus,’ Mrs Tucker whispered. ‘You’ll get the hang of it. The bow is the front of the boat. The stern is the back.’

Atticus frowned.
Why couldn’t they just call it front and back if that was what it was?

‘I’ll do it, Herman.’ Mrs Tucker picked her way carefully to the front of the boat.

‘Kids: hoist the mainsail!’ Mr Tucker shouted. ‘Use the winch.’

Callie and Michael pulled on a rope. A huge white sail rose up the mast. Callie wrapped the end of the rope around a cylindrical drum. Then she placed a handle in the centre of the drum and turned it.

That must be the winch
, Atticus thought. He watched, fascinated, as the sail tightened.

‘Set the jib!’

Inspector and Mrs Cheddar took hold of two more ropes. A second sail unfurled outwards towards the front of the boat from the mast.

Mr Tucker cut the engine. Gradually he turned the wheel until the sails filled with wind.

Atticus felt the yacht spring forward. It cut through the water. The wind whipped at his whiskers. They were moving really fast! He had no idea a wind-powered boat could shift so quickly! He wished Mimi were there to keep him company. She would love this.

‘I’m starving!’ Michael said.

‘Me too!’ Callie agreed. ‘Sailing always makes me hungry.’

‘Come on, then,’ Mrs Cheddar said. ‘I’ll get you something to eat.’

‘Atticus, take the wheel,’ Mr Tucker ordered. ‘I’m going to help Mrs Tucker with the spinnaker. Make sure you hold our course.’ He limped off along the deck.

Atticus was left in the cockpit. What was the spinnaker? And what did Mr Tucker mean ‘hold our course’? Was it something to do with steering
the boat? He turned the wheel cautiously with his paw. The sails started to flutter.

CRACK!

Suddenly the boat listed violently to one side.

Atticus slid along the cockpit. He hid his face in his paws. They must have hit something!

‘Atticus!’ Mr Tucker was beside him. ‘In the name of Poseidon, what the hake do youze think you’re doing?’ He took hold of the wheel. Gradually the boat steadied.

Atticus peeped through his paws. The sails had somehow moved across the boat to the other side when he wasn’t looking!

‘I told youze to hold our course, not sail by the lee!’ Mr Tucker complained. ‘I wish Bones was here,’ he muttered. ‘That cat was a brilliant sailor.’

Atticus felt deflated. He had a feeling he’d be hearing a lot more about Bones over the next few days.

Mrs Tucker joined them in the cockpit. ‘Atticus doesn’t understand sailing, Herman,’ Mrs Tucker told her husband. ‘He’s never been on a yacht before. You need to explain things to him.’

‘I’s don’t have time for that!’ Mr Tucker said grumpily. ‘And anyways, I never had to explain it to Bones!’

‘All right, then I will,’ Mrs Tucker said. ‘It’s like this, Atticus,’ she pointed to a horizontal beam of wood that stuck out from the mast beneath the mainsail. ‘That’s the boom. When you sail away from the wind, the sail fills with air. That’s what makes us go forward. But if you turn the wheel too much, the wind gets the other side of the sail and the boom swings across and makes the boat unsteady. It’s called an accidental gybe.’

‘It’s boomin’ dangerous,’ Mr Tucker glowered. ‘We could have broached!’

‘He means the boat could have been blown flat,’ Mrs Tucker explained. ‘What you
should
do is bring the boom across gradually so that everyone is prepared for it.’

Atticus listened glumly. He didn’t think he’d ever get the hang of it … unlike the amazing Bones.

Callie and Michael reappeared with Mrs Cheddar.

‘Where’s Dad?’ Callie asked.

Atticus looked along the deck. There was no sign of Inspector Cheddar. The boom took up the space where he had been standing a few minutes earlier. He felt proud of himself for remembering what it was called.

‘For cod’s sake!’ Mr Tucker exploded. ‘Atticus has knocked him off the boat!’