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Authors: Jennifer Gray

BOOK: Atticus Claw Goes Ashore
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Somewhere up ahead the
Golden Doubloon
had hit the Sea of Calamity. The pirates scurried to and fro across the deck in the darkness trying to keep control of the ship as the wind strained at the sails and the rained lashed at them like a whip.

Captain Black Beard-Jumper stood at the helm shouting commands. Pam sat on his shoulder keeping a watch on the men. Beside the Captain stood Fishhook Frank. His hair was long and his beard-jumper ragged from his time marooned on the island. His hands were tied behind his back. His expression was surly. Every now and then the Captain would bark a question at him. If he didn’t reply Pam would fly at him angrily and peck him on the nose until he talked.

‘Ready to go about!’ the Captain yelled.

The pirates ducked as the boom swung across and the ship changed tack. They took up their new positions as the ship crested the next wave and plunged into a trough.

The magpies huddled beside some crates that had been lashed to the deck, trying to keep out of the way.

‘Are we nearly there yet, Boss?’

Thug had his head over the side of the bucket in case he threw up. This time the bucket was full of pirate sick not dirty water. It kept sliding from side to side.

‘No!’ came Jimmy’s muffled reply. His wing was spread across his face to keep out the spray. He separated a few feathers and poked his beak out so he could talk to the others. ‘I already told you: this is the Sea of Calamity. After that we’ve got to navigate the Whirlpool of Doom, the Storm of Stupefaction and the Ocean of Terror.’

‘What’s that again?’ Slasher had a turn at the bucket.

The ship listed suddenly. The bucket overturned, trickling sick along the deck. Thug trod in it.

‘For goodness sake!’ Jimmy fluttered on to the top of the crates. He wriggled his tail under the tarpaulin. ‘The Ocean of Terror is where the man-eating plankton, the giant squid and the giant lobster live,’ he shouted. The wind whistled through his feathers.

‘Oh yeah.’ Slasher joined Jimmy on the crate. ‘Then there’s Volcano Island. Fishhook Frank told the Captain the casket’s there, right?’

Jimmy said nothing.

‘Help!’ Thug was flapping frantically. Every time he tried to land on the crate next to Slasher the wind pushed him off again. Eventually he managed it. ‘Move up!’

The three birds nestled under the tarpaulin. A disgusting smell of sick wafted up from Thug’s feet.

‘Whereabouts on Volcano Island?’ Slasher asked, resuming their conversation.

‘I don’t know,’ Jimmy snapped.

‘What do you mean you don’t know?’ Slasher frowned. ‘I thought Pam told you everything.’

Since the arrival of Fishhook Frank on board the
Golden Doubloon,
Jimmy’s information had been coming freely from Pam on a daily basis. Until that morning.

Thug chortled. ‘Your girlfriend got the hump with you, has she, Boss? Is that why she’s in such a bad mood?’

The magpies watched as Pam took another nibble at Fishhook Frank.

‘Yeah, what’s happened, Boss?’ Slasher asked. ‘You two had a row?’

‘She wants to get married,’ Jimmy said sourly.

‘Married?’ Thug repeated. ‘What, you and Pam?’

‘Yes,’ Jimmy said. ‘Me and Pam.’

Thug and Slasher fell about laughing. ‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’

‘Shut up!’ Jimmy tried to punch them both in the crop. It didn’t work very well in the cramped space under the tarpaulin but it still hurt.

‘Sorry, Boss,’ Thug wheezed. ‘What I meant to say was congratul-hations!’

‘Yeah, many happy returns.’ Slasher tried to shake Jimmy’s wing.

Jimmy kicked him in the shins.

‘I love weddings!’ Thug gushed. ‘Can I wear a hat?’

‘We could have worm cake!’ Slasher said enthusiastically. ‘With beetle-shell sprinkles.’

‘And confetti!’ Thug gasped. ‘I love that stuff! It’s all pretty, like snow.’

The two magpies were beginning to warm to the idea.

‘Can we invite some baby blackbirds to scare?’ Slasher begged.

‘Can we have a knicker trampoline?’ Thug pleaded.

‘There’s not going to be a wedding,’ Jimmy snapped.

Thug and Slasher exchanged looks. It was always important to read Jimmy’s moods correctly, especially if you didn’t want to be pushed into a puddle of pirate sick. They tried a different approach.

‘I can’t say I blame you,’ Thug said. ‘She’s horribly ugly. Her face looks like she’s been run over by a steam roller.’

‘Yeah and she’s got a bum like Wally’s,’ Slasher said, remembering their old friend. Wally’s turbo-charged
poo-packed bum was legendary amongst the magpie gang. ‘Imagine having to share a nest with that!’

Thug grimaced. ‘Nasty, Slasher my friend,’ he agreed. ‘Very nasty.’

‘The problem is,’ Jimmy said dismally, ‘if I don’t marry her, she won’t tell me where the casket is.’

Thug and Slasher glanced at one another. A bit like the ship, Jimmy’s mood had changed direction again.

‘Looks like you’ll have to do what she wants, then, Boss,’ Slasher spoke hesitantly. ‘If that’s the only way to be certain we’ll get to the mermaid first. I mean, we don’t want to take any risks.’ He nudged Thug.

‘She’s not that bad,’ Thug said generously. ‘Apart from the way she picks her beak and eats her own droppings.’

Jimmy shuddered.

‘I’d marry her myself,’ Slasher said, ‘only she hates me.’

‘Look at it this way, Boss,’ Thug said wisely, ‘once you’ve summoned the mermaid you can ask for what you want, right?’

‘Right,’ Jimmy said cautiously.

‘So the first thing you ask her for is to send Pam to prison …’

‘Or Patagonia,’ Slasher suggested.

‘Yeah, whatever that is,’ Thug agreed. ‘Get rid of her anyway.’

‘I suppose so,’ Jimmy said.

‘Then the next thing you ask for is one of them lovely sunny holidays in the Caribbean with your mates,’ Slasher said.

‘Maybe,’ Jimmy agreed gruffly.

Slasher winked at Thug. They were talking him round!

‘With lovely fluffy towels and a beautiful lady magpie singing to you under the stars,’ Thug sighed. ‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka.’

For a moment the magpies forgot about the wind and the heaving of the boat and the dreadful smell coming from Thug’s feet. They imagined they were on holiday in paradise.

‘That would be nice,’ Jimmy admitted.

‘And a five-star tree-house hotel with a catskin on the floor …’ Slasher said softly.

‘I can see it in my head, Boss,’ Thug sighed. ‘It’s
got brown and black stripes with four white corners, and a red bit in the middle made out of a handkerchief.’

‘Atticus Claw,’ Jimmy said dreamily.

‘If only!’ Thug sighed.

‘I wish!’ Slasher nodded.

‘Maybe,’ Jimmy said.

‘It’s not like you even have to go through with it,’ Slasher tried again.

‘Yeah, you can say you want one of them long hen-gagements,’ Thug said. ‘And then get the mermaid to dump her somewhere before the wedding.’

That decided it.

‘Okay,’ Jimmy said. ‘I’ll go and tell her now.’

Atticus had the wind in his whiskers. He felt proud of himself. He had improved so much at sailing since Bones came on board that Mr Tucker had even asked him to take the wheel again. And it was fun, too.

Bones was a good teacher. She taught him how to hoist the sails and change direction safely without knocking Inspector Cheddar overboard. She taught him how to tie knots and operate the winch. It was through Bones that Atticus discovered that a halyard was the rope that hoisted the sail and a sheet was the one that controlled it. She explained that the best way to avoid seasickness was to look at the horizon. Best of all she showed him how to dangle a line over the side and catch
fresh sardines. Atticus had never tasted anything as delicious as those fresh sardines. He didn’t think he could have a better friend than Bones.

‘It’s good to see you two getting along so well,’ Mrs Tucker remarked.

Atticus purred.

‘Aye,’ Mr Tucker said. ‘You make a grand crew.’

Atticus glowed with pride.

Mr Tucker checked his charts against Fishhook Frank’s map and glanced at the horizon. ‘By my reckoning we’ll be at the Sea of Calamity in no time.’

‘Do you think we’ll get to the mermaid before Black Beard-Jumper does?’ Mrs Tucker said in a low voice. ‘The kids are really worried about their dad.’

Atticus was too. It was Tuesday: only three days now until the curse was expected to strike. Inspector Cheddar had taken to his bunk to write poetry. He had a permanent air of melancholy about him. He didn’t even seem cross with Atticus any more, which was usually a sign that he had something else on his mind.

‘I’s not worried about that,’ Mr Tucker reassured her. ‘I’s reckons Black Beard-Jumper’s only a day’s
sailing ahead of us. And we’s got the advantage of a smaller ship.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘Besides, if we plan it right, we can use the
Golden Doubloon
as a decoy once we get to the Ocean of Terror.’

‘What do you mean, Herman?’ Mrs Tucker asked. She offered Atticus some cat biscuits. He took them gratefully. The kids were right. Sailing was hungry work when you did it properly. Even cat biscuits tasted good.

‘Those pirates stink like a heap of camel dung,’ Mr Tucker explained. ‘The man-eating plankton will smell ’em a mile off. Once they swarm on board and start gnashing, it’ll be each man for himself. The
Doubloon
will begin to wallow. That’s when the lobster and the squid will strike. With any luck the whole ship will go down. Them what’s left will have to take to the lifeboats. Meanwhile we sneak past and get to Volcano Island ahead of them.’

Atticus thought that sounded like an excellent plan. He’d started having nightmares about the man-eating plankton chomping at his fur and nipping his whiskers.

Bones dropped down lightly on the deck beside him. ‘Look,’ she said.

Atticus raised his eyes. The sky was darkening. It was getting foggy. Ahead of them a series of white-capped peaks stretched into the distance. ‘Is that land?’ he asked, puzzled.

‘No, Atticus,’ Bones replied cheerfully, ‘they’re waves. That’s the Sea of Calamity. We’re nearly there.’

Atticus could hardly believe it. The waves were like mountains, each one higher than the last. The
Destiny
would never get through it.

‘Don’t worry, Atticus,’ Bones whispered. ‘We’ll be all right. Just remember what I’ve taught you.’

‘Tell the children to stay below,’ Mr Tucker ordered.

Mrs Cheddar did as she was bid.

‘Right, crew,’ Mr Tucker said in a businesslike voice. ‘You know what to do. Get to your stations. Clip yourselves on.’

The five of them took up their positions on the ship. They clipped on their safety lines.

‘Here goes!’

They had reached the Sea of Calamity.

The ship began to climb the first wave. Atticus’s duty was to man the jib; the smaller of the two
triangular sails. It fluttered as the wind caught it the other side. This time Atticus knew what to do. He loosened the rope, waiting for Mr Tucker’s order. They had nearly reached the pinnacle of the wave.

‘Ready about!’ Mr Tucker yelled. Everyone ducked.

The jib boom swung across. The sail filled with wind. The ship lurched forward. Atticus fastened the rope. Mrs Tucker and Mrs Cheddar gave him the thumbs up. They were on the mainsail, doing the same thing. Bones was scurrying about, keeping things shipshape.

‘Hold on!’

The ship pitched down the other side of the wave on its new tack.

Atticus didn’t have time to feel afraid. One by one, waves rolled towards the ship, each one higher than the last. He battled with the jib as the ship tacked this way and that, trying to keep the movements of the sail under control, heaving on the rope until his paws were raw. The sea was like a rollercoaster. Up and down they went. It was hard to know which was worse: the perilous climb to the top of the wave with the towering water about to break over them, or the fearful lurch in
the pit of Atticus’s stomach when they crested the wave and the boat began to fall.

They battled on and on, Mr Tucker at the helm roaring encouragement when their spirits began to fade.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the waves subsided. The mist cleared. They found themselves sailing once again on a smooth flat sea. They had survived the first obstacle. The Sea of Calamity was behind them.

‘Well done, Atticus!’ Bones said. ‘You can have a break now.’

‘Thanks!’ Atticus padded towards the cabin. His muscles felt weak. His legs were wobbly. Bones bounced after him. It was amazing how much energy she had! All Atticus wanted to do was lie down on a comfy bed and have a long sleep. But he knew there wasn’t time for that. The Whirlpool of Doom was only minutes away.

‘Good work, crew!’ Mr Tucker congratulated them from the cockpit.

Michael and Callie were waiting for them below. Their faces were white.

Mrs Cheddar hugged them. So did Mrs Tucker.

‘It’s all right,’ Mrs Cheddar said. ‘Everyone’s safe. How’s Dad?’

‘Terrible,’ a voice groaned. Inspector Cheddar staggered into the cabin with his notebook.

Atticus looked at him in alarm. Inspector Cheddar’s eyes were bulging. His face was green. ‘Can anyone think of a word that rhymes with verruca?’ he asked plaintively.

Atticus felt Bones put a paw on his shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, Atticus, it’s just seasickness. If it was the curse of the black spot his eyeballs would have exploded by now.’

‘Oh, er, thanks,’ Atticus meowed. ‘That’s good to know.’

Just then, he heard a familiar cry. ‘All hands on deck!’ It was Mr Tucker.

‘The Whirlpool of Doom,’ Bones announced. ‘Come on!’ She raced up the cabin steps to join Mr Tucker. Atticus chased after her with Mrs Tucker and Mrs Cheddar.

‘Can’t we help, Mum?’ Callie begged.

‘No,’ Mrs Cheddar said firmly, ‘it’s too dangerous. Batten down the hatches and look after Dad.’

Michael closed the cabin doors.

Back on deck, the five crew members clipped themselves back on.

They were just in time. The sea was churning. Not up and down like it had been before. This was even worse. Atticus couldn’t get his balance. The ship yawed from side to side. It was as if they were caught in a giant washing machine. It was all he could do to keep his footing.

‘It’s pulling us in!’ Mr Tucker shouted.

To his horror, Atticus could feel the sea tugging at the boat. He glanced upwards. The two sails were full of wind. The boat should be going forwards! But it wasn’t. An invisible force was pulling it in the opposite direction.

‘Over there, Atticus.’ Bones was beside him. ‘Look.’ She pointed to the stern.

Atticus stared. There was a huge hole in the sea behind them!

‘It’s the whirlpool!’

Atticus could hardly believe his eyes. Spirals of seawater rippled towards the hole, like a pattern on a shell. The nearer they got, the choppier the water became. Around the edge of the hole the
sea swirled in angry torrents. He had never seen anything so terrifying in his life before.

‘We need more sail!’ Mr Tucker shouted. ‘Quick! It’s taking us down.’

The ship was being drawn closer to the seething whirlpool. Atticus could feel it starting to move in slow circles of its own. The ship couldn’t compete with the power of the sea.

‘I can’t hold her!’ Mr Tucker wrestled with the wheel. The ship twisted and groaned. ‘Edna, hoist the spinnaker! I’ll try and get her downwind.’

‘I can’t, Herman! It’s all we can do to hold the mainsail!’ Mrs Tucker and Mrs Cheddar hung on grimly to the ropes. ‘If we let go now, we’re finished.’

‘Bones!’ Mr Tucker shouted in desperation. ‘You and Atticus will have to do it.’

Atticus felt himself freeze. The spinnaker was the big balloon-like sail at the front of the boat. It was one thing hoisting it on a calm sea in nice weather. This was something completely different. ‘Don’t worry, Atticus, you can do it.’ Bones set off along the deck to secure the pole. Atticus struggled after her.

Atticus held the bag while Bones wrestled with the colourful sail, wrapping her body round it so that it didn’t fly away. Atticus looked on as she clipped it expertly to the ropes. It flapped and tugged in the wind, nearly throwing her off. ‘Pull on the halyard!’ Bones cried. ‘I’ll take the sheets. We need to trim it just right or we might lose it.’

Atticus understood what she meant. Trimming the sail meant allowing it to fill with just the right amount of wind at just the right moment. Bones had to keep the wind out of the spinnaker until it reached the top or it might get twisted around the mast.

‘Okay, go!’ Bones dropped down on to the deck and raced back to the cockpit.

Atticus heaved at the rope. His back paws slid along the deck.

‘Use the winch!’ Bones shouted.

Atticus grabbed the winch handle. He fixed it into the socket and took hold of it in his front paws. He began to turn the handle.

‘Keep going!’

Atticus’s muscles screamed with pain. It wasn’t that the winch was stiff. It was the effort of keeping his balance as the ship plunged about in the boiling
sea. But he did as Bones told him. The spinnaker inched up the mast, flapping like a crazy bird. He glanced back. The whirlpool was getting nearer. The ship was being drawn in. He gritted his teeth and pushed on.

Finally the sail reached the top of the mast.

Atticus collapsed, panting on the deck. He could feel the ship circling towards the whirlpool. He saw Bones secure the first of the two sheets with a winch. Then she leapt across to the other side of the cockpit and grabbed the other. She held the sheet loosely in her paws, her tail high so that she could tell the direction of the wind. She would have to get it just right. Atticus saw her tail twitch; her body stiffening as she tightened the sheet.

BOOMPH! The spinnaker filled with wind. It ballooned out in a great billow of colour.

Atticus felt the ship leap forward. It shot away from the churning edge of the whirlpool. It zipped through the shell-like spirals and out into clear water.

The two cats embraced. ‘We did it, Atticus!’ Bones said, her eyes shining.

Atticus breathed a sigh of relief. For the time being anyway, they were safe!

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