* * *
The oars clattered wildly, sending up volley after volley of splashes as the longboat made its haphazard way through the swirling, spectral mist. With each chaotic stroke the boat threatened to tip over, going round in dizzying circles, and Jake despaired at how inept his sidekicks could be at even this simple seafaring task.
“Pull together,” he hissed, miming the action the clueless cut-throats should be taking. “Both paddles going the same way!”
Then, with a sudden crunch and a collective yelp of surprise, they made contact with terra firma, scrapping the jagged rocks guarding the beach. Jake found himself flying through the air before making landfall with a jarring thud.
“Everyone all right?” he asked the tangled mass of arms and legs sprawled across the wet sand.
Groans, curses, a cry of “I want my mum” and three vehemently expressed offers of resignation came hurtling back.
“Any broken bones?” he enquired.
“Not yet,” a deep, murderous voice replied.
Sighing, Jake got to his feet, dusted himself off and signalled his crumpled companions to follow.
“C’mon, shipmates. Don’t be down at heart. It’ll be a doddle from here on in. Look, up yonder – Smashed Skulls Caves. And the treasure. Just waiting for us.”
At that very moment a howl – a nerve-jangling, primal, bowel-loosening roar – rent through the night air. The crew immediately came to the conclusion that a hoard of doubloons wasn’t the only thing waiting for them.
For injured men they got to their feet in an impressive surge of motion, sprinting back towards the longboat.
It was an ironic switch of events. Normally a gunshot begins a race. On this occasion, it stopped one dead in its tracks.
“And I’ve still got another flintlock,” Jake informed his minions as they froze and looked round, warily.
He waved the musket towards their destination. “Come about, me gutless gang. The caves are that-a-way.”
An Ugly Way To Go - and other Quintessentially Quirky Tales Page 13