‘What can we do?’ said Amazon. ‘We can’t go home, can we? Not after everything you said about the baby turtles?’
‘I’ll keep looking,’ said Bluey, not sounding too optimistic.
‘You need boat to go to Uva’avu?’ said Matahi, emerging from the shadows.
Bluey winced. He wasn’t supposed to have revealed the name of the island to anyone outside of TRACKS. He tried to cover up his mistake by acting as if it were no big deal.
‘Yeah, sure. You got one?’
‘I know of a boat. There is a rich man who goes to the islands, south of here, for pearls and … well, he goes for many reason.’
Bluey was suddenly all ears. ‘Can you arrange a meeting with this guy?’
Matahi nodded in his usual grave manner.
‘But the thing is … I … er … it’s …’
‘A secret? We Polynesians are good at secrets. I shall say only that you need to go south, maybe to the island of Puka-Puka, which is close and from where you get smaller boat, with luck.’
So it was that early the next morning the four of them took a small launch from the little harbour out to the ship, which was sitting out of sight around a headland in deeper water.
Amazon and Frazer weren’t exactly delighted to find out that the grim Polynesian was going to be joining them, but Bluey said that it was his price for fixing up the deal.
‘Apparently he’s originally from one of the islands in that chain, and he wants to get back there.’
Amazon looked puzzled.
‘But don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence? I mean the whole thing with him being our guide, just turning up like that …?’
Bluey smiled at her. ‘One of the things you find out in places like this is that strange coincidences happen all the time. Remember, there’re only a few thousand people in all these islands. It’s not like New York or London where each person gets lost in the multitude, and nobody cares who or what you are. Here everyone knows who you are – apart from anything else, there are so few of them that they’re almost all related to each other. And there are hidden connections everywhere. The guy that cuts your hair will be the same guy that serves you a beer later or fills your car with petrol. It’s not surprising that the guide turns out to be in need of a lift.’
‘Yeah,’ said Frazer in an irritating way. ‘You’ve got to get in the zone. You’re not in England now, Zonnie.’
Amazon would normally have come back at Frazer with a sarcastic remark, or possibly a gentle punch in the guts, but she was already beginning to feel unwell. The islands of the Marquesas group have no protecting reefs or quiet lagoons, and soon the small launch was being tossed around in the heavy seas. Amazon hadn’t spent much time afloat, and she was already beginning to feel the first inklings of seasickness.
If she’d known how bad it was going to get, she might well have jumped in the white-tipped waves and swum back to shore. To take her mind off the churning in her stomach she asked Bluey about the ship they were heading for.
‘She’s a modern schooner, a rich guy’s plaything, really.’
Amazon didn’t exactly know what a schooner was, although she thought it sounded rather romantic and old-fashioned. Frazer, however, yelped with excitement.
‘A schooner …? You mean like a real sailing boat?’ Frazer’s father had told him all about his adventures years ago sailing through the Pacific, and he’d always yearned to do the same.
‘Sure thing. Three masts, all the same height, rigged fore and aft. Only this is totally state-of-the-art. Computer-controlled sails, powerful supplementary engine in case we hit the doldrums, luxury cabins, the works.’
‘And who does this wonder vessel belong to?’ asked Amazon.
‘I haven’t met the guy yet. I just talked to the first mate. The owner’s name is Leopold Chung. Like most of his crew, he’s from the Chinese community in the Philippines. A millionaire, of course. It’s incredibly good luck that he’s going our way. He basically cruises around the Tuamotu Archipelago, which is where the Disappointment Islands are, buying up pearls from the local pearl farms. As long as we can get somewhere close to Uva’avu, we can hire a smaller boat for the last leg of the journey.’
They chugged round the headland and there before them lay the exquisite white form of the ship. Despite her nausea, Amazon sighed. There was something both graceful and predatory about the long, lean hull. Three tall masts towered up from the deck. The sails were still furled, and Amazon imagined how wonderful they must look when they were set and filled with the wind.
‘She’s stunning,’ she said.
‘Sure is a beaut,’ said Bluey.
Matahi, standing at the back of the launch, made an uninterpretable grunting sound, deep in his throat. It sounded to Amazon as if it could have indicated either deep admiration or contempt.
Deckhands helped them with the difficult scramble up the side of the schooner. The captain was waiting to welcome them aboard.
‘I am Captain Zhang. On behalf of the owner of this vessel, Mr Chung, I welcome you on board the Tian-long. It means, let me see, “sky dragon” in English.’
‘Very cool name,’ said Frazer.
‘That’s it,’ snapped Amazon. ‘If you say cool one more time, I’m pushing you in the ocean.’
‘Don’t mind her,’ said Frazer. ‘She’s tame, really. I think it may be a bit of the old seasickness.’ He mimed throwing up.
The captain smiled, and shook hands cordially with each of them. When he reached Amazon, he spoke a few words to her in his own language. Amazon looked at him in confusion.
‘I’m sorry … is that Cantonese? I don’t speak it.’
The captain bowed. ‘Oh, I apologize. I saw that you were part Chinese, and I assumed … But, please, it is best that you go to your cabins until we are under way. There will be much commotion on deck, and we do not want you to have a … mishap.’
‘What was all that about?’ Frazer asked, as another member of the crew showed them down to their cabins. ‘I mean, do you speak Chinese or not?’
Amazon tutted. ‘I thought you knew everything about everything? There’s no such thing as “speaking Chinese”. There are lots of different dialects, and they’re about as different as English and French. He was speaking Cantonese, which is the version of Chinese they speak around Hong Kong. My mother taught me Mandarin, which is sort of the official language, I guess.’
They each had a small, but rather elegant, cabin, lined with beautiful dark wood.
‘They must have put the best part of a rainforest into this thing,’ said Frazer.
‘The mate told me it’s all sustainably produced,’ said Bluey. ‘Apparently Mr Chung is big on conservation. We might even be able to get a donation out of him for TRACKS …’
And then they sensed a tremor run through the Tian-long.
‘Feels to me like we’re under way,’ said Bluey, and the three-day voyage to the Disappointment Isles began.
And so it was that Amazon Hunt came to believe that she was dying.
‘I’m not moving,’ she groaned. ‘Not ever again.’
It was the following day. Amazon had missed the evening meal, although the mysterious Leopold Chung was also absent. Nor had she made it for breakfast. Or lunch.
‘You’re getting up, and that’s it,’ said Frazer. ‘I’ve got the perfect cure for seasickness.’
‘If it’s something I’m supposed to eat or drink, forget it. I can’t even keep my own spit down. My mouth tastes like I slept with your socks in it.’
‘Nice! No eating or drinking involved, I promise. It’s something my dad taught me. And he sa
id your dad invented it.’
Amazon’s curiosity was piqued.
‘OK, what is it?’
‘Fish baseball.’
‘Fish baseball …? Are you making this up?’
‘Me? Make stuff up?’ grinned Frazer.
Amazon permitted herself a small, thin-lipped smile in response.
‘How do you play this stupid game?’
‘Come up on deck and I’ll show you.’
Ten minutes later, Amazon, her face washed, her hair and teeth brushed, but her stomach still feeling as though it were full of live giant eels, pushed her way through the hatch and up on to the deck. The sky was a thousand shades of grey, and the sea was dark and troubled, but at least it wasn’t raining.
There were half a dozen members of the Tian-long’s crew on deck. Some were involved in unfathomable nautical activities involving ropes and pulleys; others sat or stood smoking cigarettes. None of them looked particularly friendly; but nor did they glower quite so fiercely as Matahi, who was also on deck. He was sitting with his back to the middle of the three masts, carving away at what looked to Amazon like the giant tooth of a sperm whale, which appeared to be his only possession, apart from his clothes. He did not even look up as they came on deck.
Amazon gulped and staggered, and had to hold on to the same mast to support her wobbly sea legs. Matahi muttered and shuffled round the mast to avoid her.
‘See, you’re feeling better already, aren’t you?’ said Frazer cheerfully.
Amazon noticed he was wearing a big baseball mitt.
‘You know,’ she said, doing her best to keep the eels from spilling out on the deck, ‘that in England we play cricket, which is like baseball except you need a brain, and anyone who used a great big glove like that to help catch the ball would be considered a sissy, and get hidden down at third man or fine leg.’
‘I really didn’t understand a word of that, cuz, and I assume you were doing your English sarcasm thing. But I really don’t mind. You’re sick and I’m the doctor. Now –’
Frazer was about to explain the rules of fish baseball, but he didn’t have to. Partly because the rules of fish baseball are really very simple, and partly because he was able to give a practical demonstration, which is, of course, always the best way to learn a new game. For at that moment a flying fish fizzed through the air, right in between Frazer and Amazon. Frazer threw out his gloved hand and it smacked into the baseball mitt.
It was all so totally unexpected that Amazon cried out in delight. A couple of the crew had seen what had happened and they cheered and clapped, and shouted congratulations in Cantonese.
‘How … what …?’ stammered Amazon.
Frazer was almost as astonished as his cousin, and stared dumbfounded at the stunned fish, caught in the webbing of the mitt.
He had been up on deck earlier and had seen the flying fish gliding over the waves. A couple of them flew right across the deck of the Tian-long, and it was then that Frazer had vaguely recalled what his father had told him about the game he had played as a boy. Each of the cabins was done out in a theme and, by a brilliant stroke of luck, Frazer’s was baseball – there were posters of long-dead stars, along with a bat and an old sweat-darkened mitt, its leather cracked and crumbling.
Frazer was bored half to death. Bluey was busy writing up scientific notes for his PhD thesis, and the taciturn Matahi was about as much fun as a slap in the face with a wet fish. But catching fish – literally catching them – that had to help pass the time, didn’t it?
So down he had gone to fetch his cousin, even though he thought fish baseball would probably never work – he even suspected that it might all have been a joke dreamed up by his dad. But then suddenly he had seen the flash of light on the scales, and here it was in his mitt. This definitely counted as one of those little moments of perfect joy.
Together Amazon and Frazer looked at the flying fish. It was about fifteen centimetres long, and a lovely iridescence played along its shining silver scales; but the truly amazing thing about it was the enormous pectoral fins, just behind its gills. They were a pale pink colour.
‘They’re like a swallow’s wings,’ said Amazon. ‘Even so, I’m amazed it can get this high – the deck must be three metres above the water …’
‘Yeah, these guys are actually pretty good fliers. They can glide for four hundred metres or more if the wind’s right. It’s how they escape from predators.’
‘So is something chasing them?’
‘Yep, must be. They don’t just fly for fun. Dolphins or tuna, maybe.’
Flying fish were interesting, but dolphins were quite another matter.
‘Dolphins!’ Amazon squealed. ‘I’ve never seen a dolphin. Where are they? I want to see them now!’
Suddenly she didn’t feel at all seasick. Frazer’s idea was working better than even he had hoped.
‘Sure. I must have seen a hundred while you’ve been rotting in bed.’
‘WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME!’ yelled Amazon.
She ran to the side of the boat and leaned out, straining to catch a glimpse of the dolphins.
‘Wait, put this on,’ said Frazer, trailing after her with a life jacket. ‘If Bluey comes up and sees I’ve let you flit about the place without a life vest on, he’ll tell my dad and then I’ll be grounded for literally the rest of my life. And unless you plan on eating him we should throw this little one back in the drink, as well.’
Amazon tutted at having to wear the jacket, but saw the sense in it: the ship carved its way gracefully through the waves, but this wasn’t some huge liner or ferry that chugged along on straight lines: it rose and fell and swooped and swayed like a living thing. She was wrestling with the life jacket when another fish zipped across the deck. It was out of reach, but Amazon yelped again with excitement.
‘OK, my turn with the mitt!’ she said and forced Frazer to hand it over.
Several of the crew had gathered round to watch. Only the aloof Polynesian took no notice. He sat and carved his whale tooth as if he were alone in the world, or blind to it.
Two more flying fish sailed over the deck, but both were way out of reach. Amazon’s efforts were greeted with more good-humoured cheering from the crew.
‘This is impossible,’ said Amazon, laughing.
‘Well, I did it,’ Frazer replied smugly.
‘That was just a fluke. It flew right into your glove. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if you’d bribed it.’
And then one of the flying fish thwacked into the back of Amazon’s head with the force of a heavy punch. She staggered forward and hit the low rail round the edge of the ship. She almost fell, then half recovered her balance, her arms windmilling, but then the ship, caught by the biggest wave yet, rolled sharply.
Had she not been stunned by the fish, Amazon would probably have kept her footing, but as it was, it was the turn of the thirteen-year-old English girl to fly. And, as she fell, she screamed. She wasn’t screaming merely because she was falling overboard from a sailing ship in the middle of the world’s biggest and most dangerous ocean. And it wasn’t even the fact that her life jacket, still unfastened, had fallen off uselessly behind her.
No: she was screaming because as she plunged downwards she caught a sudden, nightmarish vision of what it was that was hunting the flying fish.
Not dolphins.
Not tuna.
Not even sharks, although they would have been frightening enough.
This was something infinitely stranger and more nightmarish than any mere fish. These creatures were about the same size as Amazon, and coloured a vivid red. Their long, tubular bodies were
flanked with undulating wings that propelled the beasts through the water at startling speed. Towards the end of each tube, two huge eyes goggled, restlessly scouring the water for prey. And ahead of the body stretched a ring of tentacles, armed with teeth that were curved like the talons of an eagle.
Amazon could see them surging under the water, like smart torpedoes, each rush sending another little group of the flying fish soaring into the air.
It would all have been fascinating were it not for the awkward fact that she was about to plunge in beside them.
As she fell, she was also vaguely aware of a flurry of motion behind her on the boat. Frazer, she thought, making a desperate and futile lunge for her. Or perhaps one of the crew …
But they were all too late, too far away. The only thing that was going to save her from drowning in the cold, grey sea was that she was first going to be torn apart by these unearthly predators.
So yes, she screamed.
And then there was a terrific jolt, just before she hit the water. The wind was knocked out of her, and a second later came the shock of the cold seawater. But she also felt something gripping her. Something hugely strong. It was two brown arms.
‘Do not struggle, little sister,’ came the voice of Matahi. ‘You are safe.’
And all around her the sea boiled with frantic flying fish, and thrashing squid in the midst of a grim battle for survival.
Back on the Tian-long, Frazer was still rigid with shock. It had all happened so fast. The flying fish thwacking into the back of Amazon’s head … her staggering fall. And then, as the others were still standing like dummies watching the tragedy unfold, the Polynesian had moved with superhuman speed. He had taken three quick steps towards the toppling Amazon, stooped to grab the end of one of the ropes lying coiled on the deck and dived over the edge of the boat after the girl.
Frazer stared dumbly at the space where Amazon had stood. Then he looked at the rope. It was uncoiling at a startling rate. And he realized something else. The rope was not attached to anything. Matahi had hold of one end, and the rope would soon unravel and disappear with him into the depths.
Shark Adventure Page 3