02 South Sea Adventure (3 page)

Roger caught another, and another. Then a larger object came speeding towards him. It missed his hands and struck him a terrific thump in the stomach. It was as if he had been hit with a sledgehammer. He doubled up, dropped to the deck, and lay still. Hal hastily covered the luminous tank so that no more visitors would be attracted. He leaned over Roger who was beginning to mutter weakly, ‘What hit me?’

Planted against Roger’s stomach Hal found something that felt like a large rock covered with razor-sharp ridges. He played his torch on it and saw a fish that looked something like a knight in full armour. ‘It’s a flying gurnard!’ he said. ‘You might have been

killed.’ He remembered stories of sailors at the wheel who had been hit between the eyes by these flying cannonballs and knocked senseless. The knifelike scales had cut through Roger’s shirt and drawn blood.

Hal put the flying gurnard into a tank by itself and treated his brother’s wounds. When the boy was able to stand they both went to inspect the new catch.

Hal was delighted. ‘Mr Bassin will be tickled to get this,’ he said. ‘It’s a circus all by itself. It can swim, it can fly, and it can even walk. Look at it now.’

Sure enough the gurnard was walking about on the bottom of the tank. Two of its fins served as legs. It strolled for a while, then broke into a sudden trot. It ran to a bit of seaweed, turned it over using its fin as a hand, plucked a morsel from under it, and popped it into its mouth.

Roger laughed, holding his hand over his sore stomach. ‘What a performer! Mr Bassin will love it. Until it jumps out of the pool and hits the big chief in the pit of the stomach.’ He patted his bruised midriff. ‘Not that I wish the gentleman any harm but - I’d like to be there when it happens.’

‘Bats !’ cried Roger the next morning from his perch in the crow’s-nest. ‘I see bats as big as barn doors.’

That sounded silly even to Roger. Bats don’t swim. And bats are never as big as barn doors. And yet these were certainly that big and they were swimming along the surface, their great black wings rising and falling.

Roger was official announcer. He spent much of every day in the crow’s-nest, watching the sea. His sharp eyes had spotted many interesting specimens. When he saw anything he could call out and the ship would change course if necessary to come up with it. If it proved to be something that Hal wanted, an effort would be made to net it and add it to the collection.

The captain put the wheel over a spoke or two and headed for the school of black, flapping monsters. Hal came tumbling up from below with a pair of binoculars. He could not believe what he saw through them.

‘What are they?’ he asked Captain Ike.

‘Sea bats. Some call ‘em devilfish.’

It came back to Hal that this was one of the specimens his father’s important client especially wanted. It was a manta, a giant ray.

How could they hope to capture one? And would the biggest tank be big enough to hold it?

The mantas were going around in circles, evidently pursuing small fish. As the Lively Lady came nearer, all on board could plainly see what went on. They fixed their attention especially on one monster close by. It was turning in a tight circle, one wing above the water and the other wing under. It was fully twenty feet across from wing-tip to wing-tip. It was about eighteen feet long from mouth to tail.

It was chasing a school of mullet.

On each side of its mouth was a great flat flipper or arm. These arms spread out, gathered in fish, and shovelled them into the monster’s mouth.

And what a mouth! It was four feet wide, big enough to swallow two men at one gulp.

But Hal knew that the giant ray was not a man-eater. It preferred fish.

It was extremely dangerous just the same. It had been known to leap into the air and bring its two-ton weight down upon a small boat, smashing the boat to kindling wood and killing its occupants. Its whiplike tail could cut like a knife. Sometimes instead of falling upon a boat the giant ray would come up beneath it, lifting it clear out of the water and then upsetting it. It might then thrash about among the swimmers, killing or maiming them.

It had no fear of man. Perhaps it was too stupid to fear him, perhaps it was too confident of its own great strength.

It would sometimes accompany a boat for miles, swimming under it and around it and leaping over it If the boatmen beat it with their oars, it did not seem to mind. The blows did not disturb it any more than a tap on the ribs would hurt a man.

Once a man had fallen overboard into the great open mouth of the devilfish. The creature evidently didn’t like the taste and disgustedly spat him out. The man was unhurt except for a bad scratching from the monster’s lower teeth. The captain brought the ship up into the wind and crawled slowly into the middle of the school. There the ship came to a standstill, sails flapping idly. On every side huge black wings were lifting and dropping. Mantas evidently liked company. They usually travelled in packs. Hal could count twenty-eight of them in this school.

Captain Ike grinned at Hal who looked the picture of bewilderment. ‘Well, here we are. What do you want to do?’ 1 want to get one of those things alive.’ The captain snorted. ‘You’ll never do that, son. We could get one of them dead, but not alive. We could harpoon one.’

‘That won’t do,’ said Hal. Then he came out of his trance and began to issue orders. ‘Roger and Omo, go below and get the big net. Crab, launch the dinghy. Captain, keep her in stays - we’ll be here for some time.’

Captain Ike began to show real worry, ‘What are you up to?’

‘Going to get in the way of that big fellow. We’ll stretch the net between the dinghy and the ship so he’ll run into it.’

‘You crazy fool…’ began the captain, but Hal was not listening.

One lead of the heavy net was made fast to the capstan on the deck of the Lively Lady. The net was dropped into the dinghy and Hal, Roger, and Omo let themselves down into the small boat. They rowed away from the ship, letting out the net as they went.

When the net was all out the dinghy was about fifty feet from the ship. The lead of the net was made fast to the mooring bitts in the dinghy.

The circle that the big fellow was making should bring him right into the net. Just what would happen then, nobody dared guess.

Around came the sea bat. He ignored the boat. He looked far larger and more terrifying than he had from the deck of the ship. The upper edge of the net projected from the water.

The devilfish seemed to sense that there was some obstruction ahead of him. But instead of slowing down or swimming to one side he came faster and faster until he was going like a speedboat.

Then he suddenly came clear of the water and soared through the air. He crossed ten feet above the net. He looked like a flying barn door carried away by a cyclone. He reminded Hal of a Northrop flying wing. Then he hit the water on the other side of the net with a sound like the report of a five-inch naval gun.

He came ploughing around again in another circle. His excitement seemed to be transferred to the other mantas and they began to leap out of the water, coming down again with terrific smacks. Some of them turned complete somersaults, their white bellies gleaming in the sun.

Curiosity was bringing them closer to the small boat.

‘They’re ganging up on us,’ cried Roger. Hal began to believe the captain was right. Only a crazy fool could have put himself and two companions in the way of twenty-eight devilfish.

This time it was another manta that approached the net Instead of leaping over it, it turned sharply away from it and towards the boat. Suddenly finding the boat in its way, it leaped into the air.

The boys were suddenly cut off from the sunshine by the flying cloud. Hal crouched low, fearing the terrible crushing smash of the monster’s weight. Roger had a better idea and slipped under a thwart. Omo, belonging to a race that accepts life or death calmly, sat smiling. As the devilfish came down with a terrific crack on the other side of the boat only its razor tail failed to clear the boat and cut a deep gash in the gunwale.

Another manta was examining the boat with great interest. It gave it a crack with one of its powerful armlike fins. If it had struck hard enough it could have smashed the boat. As it was it splintered the top strake on the port side but fortunately the plank was above the waterline and no leak resulted. Then it circled the boat and ran into the net.

‘We’ve got him!’ cried Hal. ‘If he doesn’t back out,’ said Roger. ‘I think they’re just one-way fish. They can’t back.’ Certainly the manta was not attempting to go backwards but was trying to bore its way straight through the obstruction. It managed to get one arm through, and then the other. It turned on edge and its tail slipped through the meshes. Once in, it did not come out easily since the tail was covered with sharp spikes that acted as fish-hooks.

‘Row!’ shouted Hal, and two pairs of oars and a paddle propelled the boat forward and in towards the ship. Thus the net began to close in on the giant ray.

But it was not one to surrender easily. It threshed about violently, churning the sea into whirlpools and sending up geysers of water that promptly soaked the three boatmen. The boat began to settle under the gallons of water that were splashed into it

It was lucky that the line from the net had been made fast to the mooring bitt, for no man or men could have held it. The tugs on the line jerked the boat here and there, many times nearly upsetting it.

But now the boat was under the counter of the schooner. The captain was leaning over the rail, his eyes popping.

‘Quick! Throw me the line.’

Hal pulled the line free of the bitts and heaved it to the captain who caught it deftly and ran to make it fast to the capstan.

Now both ends of the net were secured to the capstan. The sea giant was in a pocket from which there was little chance of escape.

Crab was swinging out the cargo boom. It was hinged to the mainmast and from its seaward end hung a great hook. Hal meshed the hook in the net.

The schooner’s engine began to whirr and the net with its writhing contents started upward.

A cheer broke from the boys in the dinghy. But they cheered too soon. In a convulsive struggle the manta flailed out with arms, wing ends, and tail. One of these flying appendages caught the boat amidships and stove it in as ft it had been an eggshell.

The boys found themselves in the water and made all haste to swim clear of the churning devilfish. The captain threw out a line and Hal and Roger climbed on board.

They looked back to see that Omo had been struck by the monster’s razor-edged tail and was lying in the water, stunned and bleeding. Sharks,, instantly attracted by blood, were closing in on him.

Hal drew his knife and was about to leap back into the sea when the captain said, ‘Don’t do it. You wouldn’t have a chance,’ and Crab growled, ‘Let him sink. He’s only a kanaka anyhow.’

It was all Hal needed. Boiling with rage over Crab’s callous words, he dived into the blood-tinged sea, not forgetting to take the end of the captain’s line with him. This he looped around Omo’s chest, meanwhile keeping up a lively splashing and making passes at inquisitive sharks with his knife.

Omo was hauled aboard. Hal fended off sharks until the line came again. Then he lost no time gaining the safety of the deck.

Omo came to life just enough to open one eye and say, ‘Thanks!’ Then he closed his eye and submitted in silence while Hal dressed the painful wound.

‘There goes a good dinghy,’ said Captain Ike ruefully, looking at the splinters floating about in the foam whipped up by the whirling mass of fury in the net. ‘Hoist away!’ he cried, and up, up, went the struggling sea bat. Its teeth and spines cut the net in a dozen places. But the net was made of inch-thick hemp cables and enough of it held until the captive had been brought over the tank and lowered into it.

Hal was glad to see that the tank was just big enough to hold its huge guest. But the visitor did not like its new home and proceeded to splash all the water out of the tank. The pump was turned on and more water poured in. The crew struggled to get the lid on the tank for it seemed quite likely that the manta would leap clear out of its prison and thresh about the decks demolishing spars and rigging.

The lid or hatch was finally locked in place. Then all crowded around the glass porthole to get a look at the prize. It had given up the fight and lay quietly on the bottom of the tank like an immense black blanket. The net was still draped about it.

‘How will we get the net out of there?’ Roger wanted to know.

Hal had no taste for another bout with his unwilling guest ‘We’ll leave him in the net. That way, it will be possible to lift him out of there. We ought to make Honolulu in a couple of days now. We’ll tranship him to a cargo steamer bound for home. Then we’ll have the tank free in case we want to take on another big passenger.’ ‘An octopus, maybe?’ hoped Roger. ‘Maybe. But in the meantime, Roger, you are appointed

chef to Mr Manta. You’ve got to get enough fish to keep him full and happy.’

‘And no dinghy to fish from,’ mourned Roger. Then his eyes brightened. ‘I think I know how to catch enough fish for his majesty.’

When night came, the fish began to pour on board. For Roger had adjusted a torch so that it threw a bright light on a sail and brought flying-fish by the dozen. When enough had accumulated to make a good meal, Roger and Omo gathered them and dumped them into the tank where they speedily disappeared down the mighty maw of the sea bat.

‘No wonder they call it paradise!’ exclaimed Hal as the Lively Lady rounded Diamond Head, sailed past the white beach of Waikiki where brown giants stood erect on flying surfboards, glided by lovely groves of palms and flowering trees, and dropped anchor in the harbour of Honolulu.

Hawaii was all the boys had dreamed it should be. But they could stay only long enough to have some tanks built and ship their prizes, including the giant manta. on the cargo steamer Pacific Star, bound for New York and London by way of Panama.