The Pirates! (2 page)

Twelve I Fought the Sargasso Squid!

Taking a Bath – Something's Amiss with the Creature – A Bright Idea

Thirteen Cannibal Coral Crawls to Kill!

That's not Six Thousand Doubloons – The Monster! – An Exciting Battle – Ham Saves the Day

Fourteen She Laughed Her Way to Murder!

Watch the Stars – Lessons Learnt

Learn More About

Acknowledgements

Footnotes

A Note on the Author

Also by Gideon Defoe

‘That one looks almost exactly like a whale!' ‘No it doesn't. It looks like a pile of rags with an ant stood on them. But for some reason the ant only has five legs.'

‘It's more like a cutlass. Or a beautiful mermaid lady.'

‘It's a big seagull!'

‘It's a skull!'

The pirates were busy lying on their backs on the deck of the pirate boat trying to decide what clouds looked like. Most days this enterprise would end up with the pirates having a brawl about whether a cloud would taste more like a marshmallow or a meringue if you could eat one, but today, before the pirates even had the chance to get their cutlasses out or pull angry faces at each other, there was a sudden crack, a shower of dust and splinters, and with a tremendous crash the boat's mast fell down on top of them.

The mast completely flattened the pirate who liked to show off how much he knew about wine, whilst the pirate with a hook for a hand found himself engulfed in a billowing white sail, and he was soon chasing the other pirates about, pretending to be a ghost. There was such a commotion none of the pirates even noticed the galley doors swing open and the Pirate Captain himself step out onto the deck. The Pirate Captain had taken to wearing a dashing maroon smoking jacket and a blousy white shirt that had most of the buttons undone to reveal the glossy hairs on his chest. His chest hairs were almost as well-conditioned as the hairs in his luxuriant beard, which many of the crew felt to be one of the seven wonders of the oceanic world. If the pirate crew had been asked to list the seven wonders of the oceanic world in full they would have confidently said, in ascending order: 1) the Lighthouse at Pharos; 2) the Colossus of Rhodes; 3) Lulworth Cove; 4) those jellyfish that light up; 5) Lobsters; 6) Girls In Bikinis; 7) the Pirate Captain's fantastic beard.

‘What in blazes is going on, you oily wretches?!' the Pirate Captain bellowed.

The pirates all dusted themselves down, and the pirate with a hook for a hand sheepishly took off the sail and stopped doing ghost noises.

‘Sorry, Captain,' said the pirate in green. ‘We were just discussing what the clouds looked like when the mast fell down again.'

The Pirate Captain stepped over the bits of broken mast and tangled rigging and squinted up at the cloud that the pirates were looking at.
¹
He clicked his tongue thoughtfully.

‘It looks,' he said, after a little deliberation, ‘like my stentorian nose with a bottle of grog next to it.'

The pirates all nodded, and slapped their foreheads, because that was
exactly
what the cloud most looked like, and they could all see it now the Pirate Captain had pointed it out.

‘Listen, lads. Looking at clouds is all well and good,' said the Captain sternly, ‘but some of us
have important piratical work to do. So try and keep the noise down. Maybe tie a few knots, or something quiet like that.'

And with a waggle of his eyebrows and a wave of his cutlass, the Pirate Captain swept back through the big oak doors to his office. As the doors slammed shut, one of them fell off its hinges, which slightly diminished the imperious effect he had been going for.

Back in his office the Pirate Captain sat at his desk and tried to get on with some work. As usual he spent a few minutes arranging his quills and paperweights. After that he tapped a pencil against his teeth. Then he tried balancing an inkpot on his nose. Finally he got up and walked around the room a little bit, hoping he might get some inspiration from the various portraits of himself that he had hung up about the place. He'd had some new ones done since their last adventure. There was a black-and-white painting that showed him with his shirt
off tenderly cradling a baby. There was one of him emerging from an old boot alongside a giant kitten. And next to that was an actual ‘Wanted' poster,
²
which had a grainy picture of the Pirate Captain on it, and a bounty of ten thousand doubloons. The Pirate Captain stopped in front of a mirror and practised pulling the same face that he was doing in the Wanted poster, until a tentative knock at the door sent him diving back behind his desk. He scratched his forehead to show how deep in thought he was and said, ‘Come in!' in his best working voice. The pirate with a scarf poked his head around the door.

‘Hello Number Two,' said the Pirate Captain.

‘Hello Pirate Captain,' said the pirate with a scarf, who for some reason was carrying the boat's steering wheel. ‘I was hoping I could have a word?'

‘Of course!' The Pirate Captain waved for him to take a seat. ‘Actually, I'm glad you're here – you
can help me with this work I'm doing.' He looked at his second-in-command seriously. ‘I'm making a list of when it's acceptable for a pirate to cry.'

‘That sounds very important, Captain,' said the pirate with a scarf, fiddling anxiously with his eye-patch. He had a delicate topic he wanted to broach, and you never could tell with the Captain if he might not fly into one of his terrible rages, because he prided himself on being unpredictable, like the ocean.

‘So far I've got: one – when holding a seagull covered in oil. Two – when singing a shanty that reminds him of orphans. Three – when confronted by the unremitting loneliness of the human condition. Four – chops. I've just written the word “chops”. Not really sure where I was going with that one. Any ideas?'

‘It's a very good list, Captain,' said the pirate with a scarf, wondering why the last few zeros on the Captain's Wanted poster were in a different colour ink from the others. ‘But there's something a few of the other pirates wanted me to ask you about.'

‘Oh dear,' said the Pirate Captain, noticing the worried look on the scarf-wearing pirate's otherwise rugged face. ‘Nothing relationship-based, I hope? You know how I'm not very good with emotional issues.' The Captain paused and looked out of the porthole. ‘I think the problem is I'm just not very interested in them.'

‘No, Captain. Nothing like that.'

‘Well then. Fire away!'

‘It's the boat, Captain. I don't know if you've noticed, and it would be fair enough if you hadn't, what with you being so busy making lists and all, but … well …' The scarf-wearing pirate tried to think of the most tactful way to put it. ‘She's in a bit of a state.'

The Pirate Captain looked thoughtfully at the fraying wooden beams and the big patches of mould on the ceiling. ‘Oh, I think “state” is a bit harsh. “Full of character” is probably the phrase you're after.'

‘That's the third time this week the mast has fallen down, Captain.'

‘Good thing too. Keeps the lads on their toes!'

‘It's not just the mast, Captain,' the scarf-wearing pirate persisted. ‘The cannons don't work properly. Several of the pirates have been getting nasty splinters, from the deck being so rotten. There's tar all over the place. And this,' he held up the boat's wheel and waggled it about, ‘just came clean off in my hands.'
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‘Arrrr.' The Pirate Captain stroked his beard. ‘I suppose we need that for the … the uh …'

‘Steering, sir. It moves the rudder.'

‘Of course, the rudder. I knew that. The rudder's the one with the portholes, isn't it?'

‘That's the forecastle, Captain.'

‘Yes, the forecastle. Anyhow, pass it over here.' The Captain took the wheel, gave his trusty number two a reassuring wink, strode over to the back of his office and hung it on a spare nail that was sticking out from the wall. ‘Paint a few numbers round the edge, it's got the makings of a nice dartboard, don't you think? Problem solved.'

Before the Pirate Captain had time to congratulate himself on this clever idea, the steering wheel thudded onto the carpet, taking the nail and a piece of the boat's wall with it. A spray of seawater jetted into the Captain's office and knocked an astrolabe off his mantelpiece. The Pirate Captain frowned.

‘Look at that. It's made a little hole,' he said. But without missing a beat he picked up one of his portraits – the one of him smiling standing next to a lady-boy on the beach in Thailand – and propped it up over the leak.

‘I don't think you can really just cover up holes with pictures, Captain,' said the pirate with a scarf sadly, as a steady stream of water went on dribbling down onto the carpet.

‘Nonsense,' snorted the Pirate Captain, briefly pulling aside another painting to reveal a second nasty-looking gash in the wall. ‘See. That's much worse, and it's been there for ages!'