“Excuse me, Captain…do you have a compass anywhere? Just to be on the safe side.”
Joe awoke to the lapping of gentle waves against the boat and stretched out his arms contentedly. Although his bunk was narrow and a bit on the hard side, he’d slept more soundly on the ‘Mersey May’ than in two whole months of suffocating luxury on Mr. Smyle’s huge yacht, although his head felt fuzzy from the fall and he couldn’t remember anything about the accident the previous day, which was probably just as well.
There was nothing wrong with his nose, however, and his mouth began to water as an irresistible smell wafted from the tiny galley where their host was busy cooking. Eyes half-closed with sleep, he peered over the side of his bunk to see Odi already sitting at the table, knife and fork at the ready.
“Aha!” exclaimed the Captain, a portly gentleman with a grizzled white beard and weather-beaten cheeks, “I thought this would get you up. No-one can resist a good breakfast, especially when I’m cooking.” Whistling merrily, he flipped a panful of eggs onto plates already smothered with sausages, beans, tomatoes and crispy bacon. “There’s fried bread too if you’ve room for it”.
Odi needed no further invitation. “Just keep the grub coming!” he cried gleefully, “I’ll find a space somehow!” The food had barely touched the table before he dived in greedily, with a lot of slurping and contented sighs.
“Come on Joe!“ said the Captain, “Fill your boots.”
“Who are you?” Joe asked, as he slid into the seat next to Odi.
“Name’s Bob,” came the reply, “Bob Craddock, known by some as Captain Catastrophe – though for the life of me I can’t think why!”
“Oh-oh,” muttered Odi through a mouthful of yolk, “that does not sound good!” Joe kicked him on the ankle. The last thing he wanted was to be chucked over the side of another vessel, especially before breakfast. Fortunately, if the Captain heard Odi’s remark at all, he chose to ignore it and kept on piling food onto their plates. “Anyway, there’ll be time for proper introductions after we eat. Then you can tell me how two young lads came to be swimming with the sharks last night.”
Half an hour later, relaxing with steaming mugs of tea, Odi and Joe began to tell their story (although, as usual, it was mainly Odi who did the talking): How they were cruelly snatched away from their families, imprisoned by the nasty Nunjas, fed to giant crocodiles, rescued by the tree people, hidden in the Blue John cave, and finally whisked off into the lavish care of the extraordinary Mr. Smyle.
Captain Catastrophe listened intently, occasionally tutting and butting in to ask a question or whistling with astonishment at the more fantastical aspects of the tale. Once the boys had finished, he shook his head with disbelief.
“This is intolerable!” he bellowed. “The irresponsibility! After all you’d been through, why on earth was no-one looking out for you?! Were there no safety procedures on this luxury yacht? For heaven’s sake, how did you come to fall off it?!”
“We were trying to see the dolphins….” started Joe.
“So, we climbed up onto the railings,” Odi continued “and they just gave way, just like that, at least that’s how it seemed….”
“…and then splash, there we were, in the middle of the ocean, a billion miles from anywhere” said Joe.
“Shark meat!”
“Only the sharks didn’t eat us,” Joe added. “They brought us to you!”
“Well, I never!” said the Captain, “had I not seen it with my own eyes….. I’ve heard of dolphins rescuing people, but sharks….!” He paused, stroking his beard reflectively, “It seems to me that somebody’s been looking after you.”
Now it was Odi’s turn to kick out, afraid Joe might start banging on again about his ‘Mr. Big’. Crocs and sharks were one thing, but there had to be a limit to what grown-ups would believe.
“’Course, between you and us, it wasn’t that good a ride,” said Odi, “Every time I tried to sit down, the fin got in the way, so it wasn’t exactly business class, if you know what I mean. Given the choice, I’d have taken the ferry, but hey, who’s complaining? I’ve got food in my belly and all’s well with the world – at least ‘til lunchtime!”
“Yes, it’s amazing how much better things seem after a good meal. The question is, what are we to do with you two?” The Captain mused.
“I suppose we should contact this Mr. Smyle chappie. What did you say his tub was called again?”
Odi frowned, trying to remember. “Ocean of Smyle’s, or something,” he replied, “I couldn’t actually swear to it, but then, everything he owns has a Smyle on it somewhere, so it’s as good a guess as any, I guess.”
“Oh well,” Captain Catastrophe shrugged and squeezed his way towards the radio. “If this Mr. Smyle’s as big a tycoon as you say he is, I doubt we’ll have much trouble tracking him down.” He tried to tune in without much success on his old-fashioned system – a far cry from the state-of-the-art satellite equipment on Mr. Smyle’s yacht. The best he could manage was a high-pitched whine, interrupted by the occasional crackle.
“Confound this contraption!” he yelled and started banging the top of the radio with his fist.
“Do you think you should be hitting it so hard, Mr. Captain?” asked Odi. “That’s a complicated piece of equipment you’ve got there. Aren’t you worried it’ll break?”
“Well, I suppose I would be worried,” said Captain Catastrophe, “had it ever worked in the first place!” He gave it another clout, more out of frustration than anything else, before shaking it violently from side to side. “This is what you get when you buy second-hand! From now on, I’m finished with car-boot sales!”
“Excuse me,” said Joe, trying to be helpful, “Don’t you have a mobile phone?” Captain Catastrophe frowned for a moment, then sighed heavily. “I knew there was something I’d forgotten,” he groaned. “That would have been a splendid idea, were I not so terribly absent-minded these days.” He smiled ruefully, “Of course, it doesn’t matter much just for me. It’s you boys I care about. Ohh, I give up!” He pushed the now rather battered radio to one side where it whimpered pathetically. “We’ll just have to implement Plan B, that’s all. At least, we will when I can think of it.” At that, he closed his eyes and began to concentrate, while the boys watched for any sign that their host had a clue what to do. After ‘umming’ and ‘ahhing’ for a while, Captain Catastrophe clicked his fingers. “Aha!” he cried jubilantly, “I know!”
Odi smiled with relief, pleased to think he would soon be returning to the lap of luxury and the next level on his Highway to Hell video game. Joe, however, had mixed feelings. Of course, he wanted to see his brother and sister again, but for some time before his undignified departure over the side, he’d felt somewhat uneasy about life on The Ocean of Smyle’s.
The Captain was rummaging in the corner, no doubt looking for the miraculous piece of technology to save the day. Instead, he pulled out a jar of raspberry jam.
“Pudding!” he cried. “I’ve saved some especially for such an occasion, and it’s just the thing to finish off our breakfast!”
“Please, Captain Catastrophe! We need help to get back to our boat!” said Odi, “Although I wouldn’t mind a few rounds of toast with that jam.”
“All in good time,” Captain Catastrophe reassured him, “I’m sure I’ll think of something.” True to his word, he’d hardly stuck a knife in the butter when the brainwave struck.
“Do you know where the yacht was headed when you fell overboard?”
Joe and Odi looked at each other. “Well, what’s that got to do with….?”
“Well, don’t you see! If we can work out where it was going, we can go there too and meet up with it! Of course, that’s the obvious solution! Fancy my not thinking of it before!” He was so busy congratulating himself; he almost forgot the jam and needed a polite nudge from Odi to start spreading. “So, where do we head for, boys?”
Odi shrugged, and it was left to Joe to try and remember. “We were going to find my parents,” he said. “And it might have been Australia…or maybe Africa.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to be a little more specific, Joe, if I’m going to get you there,” said Captain Catastrophe. “My navigational skills are not so clever at the best of times.”
This, as it happened, turned out to be an understatement. In fact, it took the three of them at least half an hour to decide which way up the map should go. It then took another half hour to decide where Australia was, Joe having decided that was the country his parents were in.
“Right!” exclaimed the Captain. “So at least we have the right continent. Now, if I’m not mistaken, we’re somewhere in the Indian Ocean, so we need to head West…no, I mean, East, which is….” He paused, turned to face the stern and thought very carefully for a moment before gesturing with his right hand, “…that way. I think. Yes, I’m quite sure that’s the way to go.”
“Excuse me, Captain,” Odi asked, by this time rather worried, “If I could make a suggestion – do you have a compass anywhere? Just to be on the safe side.”
“Of course!” Captain Catastrophe snapped his fingers and set to searching his rather untidy work station, shoving papers to one side. “I’m sure I had one somewhere…” At that moment, he was distracted by the sound of the radio, which had miraculously started to work, although the voice coming through was very faint.
“Aha! This must be my lucky day!” yelled the Captain and began tuning again. “Hello? Mayday! Mayday! Boys overboard! Come in whoever! Oh, stupid me!“ He cried on realising that the microphone wasn’t switched on, so he started turning the dial more frantically to find a reception. Eventually, a thin crackly voice came through.
“Attention all shipping. The Ocean of Smyle’s is heading for the Cape. Keep your distance……”
“That’s it!” yelled Odi, “That’s our ship! Quick, Captain, call them back and tell them we’re still alive!”
Captain Bob didn’t need telling twice. “Hello, hello” he repeated, “Mayday! Mayday! This is the Mersey May calling! Come in please!”
That was the moment when Joe’s head began to clear, when, suddenly, the previous day’s events flash clearly before him.
“Mersey May, please state your position….” It was the Captain of Mr. Smyle’s yacht.
“My position? Well…I’m not one hundred percent certain, but….”
The Captain of the Ocean of Smyle’s snapped angrily “What sort of buffoon are you to be at sea if you don’t even know where you are! We’re heading on a course for the Cape of Good Hope and, for your sake, l hope you’re not in our way!”
Joe and Odi were quite shocked to hear Mr. Smyle’s nice Captain speak so rudely. He’d always been so pleasant with them. “Well, it’s-it’s-it’s j-j-j-just that…..” Captain Bob always blustered when put on the spot, but he was determined to say his piece nonetheless. “I’ve got guests on my boat here who say they were….”
“Stop!” Joe lunged at the radio and turned it off. “Don’t tell them! Please, you mustn’t!” Stunned, Captain Bob and Odi gazed at Joe, whose face was flushed with sheer panic.
“What’s the matter, Joe?” asked the Captain. “If we can get you back to your ship, you’ll be able to find your folks.” With that, he switched on the radio again just in time to hear the cultured, yet now irritable, tones of Smyle’s captain demanding to know what the captain of the Mersey May was about to tell him. “No, no, we can’t go back!” said Joe, his heart pounding like a jackhammer. “I’ve just remembered something. Something really awful! Please, Captain Bob, don’t take us back!”
“What? Are you insane?!” said Odi. “What’s got into you all of a sudden?” The captain of the ‘Smyle’ was growing more impatient by the second. “I repeat, Mersey May, come in please… What is your position? Repeat, what is your position?”
Captain Catastrophe paused, torn between the insistent voice on the radio and Joe’s pleading expression. Eventually, he returned to the microphone. “Hello, this is the Captain of the Mersey May,” he continued. “I’ll be sure to keep out of your way. Over.” He then switched off the radio and looked intently at Joe. “Now then, young man. What really happened on that yacht?”
“I don’t know where to start,” said Joe. “It’s just something that I can’t quite think of, but I know it’s important, I just know it.”
“Now calm down,” said the Captain, “and try to remember exactly what you were doing before you fell off the ship.”
Odi shrugged “We were trying to see the dolphins, that’s all!”
“Yes, but before that, we were doing something. We were doing something quite ordinary, but I can’t quite remember what it was.”
At a glance from the Captain, Odi shrugged again, “Well, we were playing a game in the kitchen.” he said.
“What sort of game?” urged Captain Catastrophe.
“Just…playing a sort of Scrabble, making words out of the letters.”
“That’s right!” exclaimed Joe. “And then Mr. Smyle called us up on deck to see the dolphins….”
“And then, we climbed up on the railing, leaned over and fell!” continued Odi. “We’ve been through this already. We leaned too far over and whoosh, early bath time!”
“We didn’t fall over!” said Joe firmly. “We were pushed!”