The Pirates! (10 page)

‘The
Pequod
.'

‘Funny sort of name for a boat.'

‘Pirate Captain!' cried the albino pirate, and he came hurrying up, all out of breath and anxious-looking. ‘We haven't got any cannonballs! We used them all up on the lepers and the school kids.'

‘Honestly!' roared the Pirate Captain, ‘what sort of an outfit are we running here? How can we not have any cannonballs?'
²³

‘Well, we haven't got much of anything.'

The Pirate Captain had the scarf-wearing pirate bring up the inventory to conduct a quick recap:

20 limes

1 Prize Ham

2 dry-cured hams

3 barrels of tar

1 pirate with an accordion (deceased and subsequently electroplated)

‘We've finished all the biscuits?' asked the Captain in dismay.

‘I'm afraid so, Captain.'

‘We could fire a lime, sir,' suggested the pirate with a scarf. ‘They're sort of the right shape.'

‘Aaaarrr. Fair enough,' said the Pirate Captain.
‘But dip it in tar so they think it's a cannonball. Otherwise we risk looking stupid.'

‘Can we wear those dinosaur masks we picked up at the Natural History Museum on our last adventure?' asked the pirate who was always getting nosebleeds. ‘I really think they add to our ferociousness.'

‘Why not?' roared the Pirate Captain. ‘You know I'm always encouraging you lot to improvise. Express yourselves! Above all else remember that it's meant to be fun – that's the secret of good pirating.'

So the pirates fired the
Lovely Emma
's cannons a couple of times and drew up alongside the
Pequod
. The Pirate Captain grabbed hold of a hefty rope, swung across to the other boat – showing considerable athleticism, and not a little leg – and landed square in the middle of its deck. One of the
Pequod
's men charged forward waving a dangerous-looking harpoon, but the Pirate Captain hacked at him with his cutlass and the man dropped to the deck, split right down the middle. Seeing this grisly spectacle, the rest of the
Pequod
's crew backed off a bit,
and the Pirate Captain was left face to face with a single brave soul.

‘I'm the Pirate Captain!' said the Pirate Captain, twirling his cutlass like a baton in a move he had been up practising all the previous night. ‘And I'm here for the loot!'

The man made no reply, but somehow his silence was fearsome in itself. A horrible sense of familiarity settled over the Pirate Captain. He squinted again at the fellow, and at his mop of straggly grey hair, and at the ugly scar that ran the length of one of his cheeks, and at the ivory leg poking out from the bottom of his trousers, and began to realise the terrible awkwardness of his situation.

‘Oh dear,' said the Pirate Captain, turning a bright red.

In piratical circles this sort of thing was social death. For a moment the Pirate Captain thought about trying to pretend that he and the crew were some sort of pirate-a-gram, sent by one of Ahab's whaler mates. But whalers were a notoriously humourless lot, and it didn't seem likely they would have instigated such a thing.

‘How incredibly embarrassing,' stuttered the Captain, grinning a weak grin. ‘What are the odds? I mean, all the traffic cluttering up the shipping lanes nowadays, and I should run into you …'

The Pirate Captain trailed off. Ahab still hadn't said anything, but he seemed ready to explode. An angry-looking nerve had started to twitch in the corner of his eye. The Pirate Captain looked at his shoes. ‘Sorry about running through, erm …'

‘Mister Starbuck,' said Ahab icily.

‘Yes. Sorry about running Mister Starbuck through. Do you think he'll be okay?'

‘You've cleaved him clean in two.'

‘I sort of have, haven't I? I bet I couldn't manage that again if I tried a thousand times! I – uh – hope that cannonball didn't do too much damage.'

‘It wasn't a cannonball. It was a lime.'

‘Yes. Well. Sorry anyway.'

‘I have citric acid in my eye.'

‘Oh. That must sting.'

‘It does.'

The Pirate Captain awkwardly put away his cutlass, and waved for his pirate crew to stop their pirating. It was always nice to run into old acquaintances again, but this did pretty much scupper the whole operation. After all, there was a certain set of piratical ethics to be adhered to, and not stealing from a man who had offered you grog was just about at the top of the list.
²⁴

To try and make amends, the Pirate Captain invited Ahab and his crew to a meal on board the
Lovely Emma
. Usually the Pirate Captain wasn't much for having people to dinner, because it just meant less food for the pirates, but it seemed the least he could do, and he was actually quite pleased he had a guest to show off the new boat to.

‘I like your
Pequod
,' said the Pirate Captain. ‘Especially what you've done with all that whalebone about the place. I'm afraid that I'm not as creative as yourself, so all the fittings on board the
Lovely Emma
are just solid silver. I think the sails are made from chinchilla skin. And the ropes are all woven from the hair of only the best-looking women actresses.'

‘She seems a sturdy vessel, Pirate Captain,' agreed Ahab grudgingly.

‘We even have a dance studio. I only found that yesterday. Does the
Pequod
have a dance studio on board?'

‘No, Pirate Captain, it does not. I do not approve of dance.'

‘That's a pity. How about cup holders? Does
the
Pequod
have any cup holders? Because the
Lovely Emma
has them all over the shop. No need to ever spill a drop of grog.'

‘I do not approve of grog on board ship, Pirate Captain.'

‘Aaarrrr,' said the Pirate Captain, who was beginning to think that Ahab wasn't turning out to be the best dinner guest in the world. ‘I hope you haven't got anything against chops?' he added, as a big pile of chops was carried to the table by a couple of the pirate crew. The pirates and the whalers started to eat in awkward silence.

‘So, Ahab,' said the Pirate Captain, trying to get the conversation going. ‘Any luck finding that whale?'

Ahab's stony face seemed to set even harder.

‘No, Pirate Captain. The beast has continued to evade me these past few days. Just last night I thought I'd finally cornered him, but it turned out to be a big bit of kelp.'

‘I'm sure it's an easy mistake to make,' said the Pirate Captain sympathetically. ‘It sounds a lot like the time I got into all that confusion with a mermaid.'

‘A mermaid?' repeated Ahab, actually raising an eyebrow, though the rest of his face remained as impassive as ever.

‘Oh yes. I went out with this charming mermaid for … oooh, how long would you say it was, Number Two?'

‘About three months, Captain,' said the pirate with a scarf, looking a little pained.

‘Yes, about three months. It took that long for the lads to convince me that it wasn't really a mermaid at all. It was just a regular fish.'

‘Surely,' said Ahab, ‘it is an easy enough distinction to make?'

‘You would have thought that,' agreed the Captain, ‘but what you have to appreciate is that the top half of that fish was just really very attractive. Normally I prefer the top halves of ladies to have arms and hair and all that, but this girl – or marlin, as I later came to realise – really carried it off. And she was a fantastic kisser.'

Ahab looked unimpressed. The Pirate Captain wondered if he should bring up the time they had sailed through an electrical storm and he
had become magnetised, but somehow he felt Ahab wouldn't approve of that either.

‘So, tell us all about whales then, Ahab,' said Jennifer eagerly.

‘They're disgusting creatures,' said Ahab. ‘Entirely without redeeming qualities.'

‘But valuable, eh? You must make a packet from hunting them?'

‘No, young lady. They're worthless. The “vermin of the sea”. That's what I call them. And the white whale is the worst of the lot.'

‘So why do you bother with them?'

‘I hate them. I hate their small eyes, and I hate their wide mouths,' said Ahab, getting so annoyed his knuckles began to turn white.

‘I'm a lot like that with mimes,' said the Captain with a nod. ‘Can't bear them. All that pretending to get out of invisible boxes. Nonsense.'

‘Whales are worse,' snarled Ahab. He viciously speared a piece of meat and chewed it with grim determination.

The other pirates were doing their best to make conversation with the whaler crew, but they were a strange bunch, and most of their
stories placed a lot more emphasis on icebergs and interminable months spent at sea rather than feasts and fighting. Also, just as one of the whalers would actually seem to be getting to the point of an anecdote, they were liable to wander off suddenly on long and rather dull tangents about whale anatomy or things like that. The pirate in red was more than a little relieved when his conversation with a funny-looking whaler with one tooth and a lot of tattoos was interrupted by the booming voice of the Captain.

‘Oho! What's this?' said the Pirate Captain, fighting back a grin. ‘I do believe … Oh my! Why if I'm not mistaken … it's the WHITE WHALE ITSELF!'

Ahab started out of his chair. Several of the whalers reached for their harpoons. Then through the door to the kitchen came the pirate with a scarf and the pirate with gout, carrying a huge plate on which there sat a great pile of mashed potato. The mashed potato had been moulded roughly into the shape of a whale. It had radishes for eyes. The whalers put down
their harpoons and settled grumblingly back into their seats.

‘Are you mocking me, sir?' asked Ahab with a steely stare.

‘Goodness! No! Not at all,' said the Pirate Captain defensively. ‘It's just – look, it's made from mashed potato.' He spooned a dollop of potato from the whale's flank. ‘See? We thought it would be a nice surprise,' he added sadly.

Ahab exhaled. ‘I apologise. The truth is I'm tired, Pirate Captain. Tired of the ocean, and of this chase. In fact, we were heading back to Nantucket when you attacked.'

‘Oh dear,' said the Pirate Captain. ‘You mean to say you've given up? You're just going to let that whale mess about in the sea, splashing around and biting bits off of people?'

Ahab stood up and tapped the table with his whalebone foot until he had everybody's attention. His baleful eyes swept the room and seemed to look deep into the souls of every man there.

‘Hold!' he shouted. ‘Before you stands Ahab, a man. For the past age I have abandoned my
humanity in pursuit of the demon that ate my leg. I have stared at raging seas, through storm and rain, until moss grew upon my clothes and icicles hung from my ears and nose. Aye! I have not relented. The bulldog which grips on until death – that has been Ahab. The sun which beats on the desert without reprieve – that has been Ahab. The stubborn stain which soap will not shift – that has been Ahab. The Vale of Death holds no horrors for me, for I seek only vengeance, which I shall pursue even after I lie beneath the mould of the grave.'

The Pirate Captain was about to suggest that perhaps Ahab might want to think about developing some other hobbies outside whaling, but the old whaler had not quite finished.

‘My destiny is fixed – I shall be avenged. But of late I have grown weary and my stomach queasy when we hit choppy waters. Also, this is my last spare whalebone leg and if he snaps this one, Ahab is stuffed. So!' Ahab paused and did his looking-into-souls-with-his-eyes trick again. ‘I have decided to put a price on the whale's accursed head and return to Nantucket.'

The whalers gasped and not a few of them looked absolutely delighted. Ahab produced a sheaf of leaflets which he handed to the Pirate Captain.

‘Take one and pass them on, Captain. And read it – read it well. For I offer a reward of six thousand doubloons to the man who brings me the white whale.'

The pirates looked at the leaflets, which showed the details of the reward above a picture of a whale chomping on a leg.

‘SIX THOUSAND DOUBLOONS!' shouted Ahab, to emphasise the point. Then he sat down and tucked into his fruit medley.

‘That's a big reward,' remarked the Pirate Captain, ‘for catching a fish.'

Ahab shrugged. ‘I told you. I really,
really
don't get on with him.'