The Race to Kangaroo Cliff

by Alexander McCall Smith

  She would have liked to switch on the light and read. That is always a good way of stopping yourself from thinking thoughts you do not want to think, but if she did that she could wake Fee up, and she wanted to avoid that. So Poppy closed her eyes once more and this time tried to think about things that had nothing at all to do with life on the Tobermory. She thought of home, of the farm near Alice Springs and of the sheep they gathered for shearing – but then one of the sheep seemed to be avoiding her, and when she looked more closely she saw that its face was remarkably like that of Amanda Birtwhistle …

  And it was then that she heard the noise.

  At first she thought it was the sound of small waves lapping at the side of the boat. This sound is always present at sea, but at times it becomes louder if the waves grow bigger for some reason. This can be caused by the wake of a passing boat or a sudden gust of wind, but will soon pass. But this time it was different. Somewhere down at the side of the boat, more or less immediately below the porthole of Poppy and Fee’s cabin, somebody – or something – was splashing around in the water.

  Slipping out of her hammock, Poppy crossed the cabin to investigate. In the darkness, the porthole was a faintly glowing circle. There was a full moon that night, and outside the silver moonlight was dancing on the surface of the water. Poppy strained her eyes, but was unable to see very much other than the sea and, in the distance, the twinkling lights of the sleeping town. Suddenly, she became aware of a figure beside her. Fee had woken up and was now also out of her hammock.

  “I heard a noise,” said Poppy. And then, apologetically, “I’m sorry if I woke you up, Fee. I didn’t mean to.”

  “I was awake anyway,” said Fee. “I heard something too.”

  Just at that moment they heard the noise again. “There,” said Poppy. “Did you hear that?”

  Fee nodded. “Yes, it was a sort of splashing sound,” she said.

  Poppy hesitated. It was strictly against the rules to go up on deck at night without permission. There was a good reason for this: if you went up there in the darkness and fell overboard, nobody would know what had happened. That was a rule that everybody understood and obeyed. Yet what if the splashing sound was being made by somebody who needed help? Surely that would be a good enough reason to break the rules?

  Fee must have been asking herself much the same question because when Poppy turned to her she simply nodded her head. “I think we should go on deck and look,” Fee whispered.

  Together they made their way out of their cabin, taking great care to close the door behind them as quietly as possible. Then they crept along the corridor and up the companionway that would take them out onto the main deck. Nobody saw them and nobody heard them.

  The day had been hot, but the air was now a bit cooler. Above their heads, competing with the moonlight, were thousands of tiny stars, and for a moment both girls simply gazed in wonder at the night scene. On the other side of the bay they saw the mast lights of the other ships move gently with the rocking motion of the sea.

  Poppy pointed to the side of the ship from which the noise had come. Then, creeping towards the edge of the deck, they peered over the railings. At first they saw nothing, but then, as their eyes became accustomed to the darkness, they made out three shapes in the water.

  Poppy gave Fee a nudge. “Somebody’s swimming,” she whispered.

  And then they heard a voice. It was not a loud voice, but it was loud enough for them to make out exactly what was being said.

  “Come on, Geoffrey,” it said. “Let’s swim all the way round the ship.”

  “All right,” came the reply.

  And then, “Wait for me,” said a third voice.

  Poppy and Fee looked at one another in astonishment. There was no mistaking who it was down there in the water: William Edward Hardtack, Geoffrey Shark and Maximilian Flubber.

  As Hardtack and his friends began to swim towards the bow of the ship, Poppy touched Fee’s elbow and pointed back towards the companionway. Without saying anything, the two girls moved away from the railings.

  “What are we going to do?” asked Fee, dropping her voice to a whisper.

  Poppy thought for a moment. “They’re being really, really stupid,” she replied. “Everybody knows that you should never swim in the sea at night. It’s the most dangerous time there is. That’s when sharks – and saltwater crocs, too – are much more likely to attack.”

  Fee drew in her breath. “Should we warn them?” she asked.

  Poppy thought it unlikely that the boys would listen to them. “I think we should go and wake Mr Rigger,” she said. “It’s for their own good. They’re in real danger.”

  Fee knew Poppy was right. The girls lost no time in making their way back down the companionway and then along the corridor towards the section of the boat where the staff cabins were. Poppy had brought her small flashlight with her, and now she switched it on to guide them to the door bearing the notice MR RIGGER, FIRST OFFICER. Not caring now how much noise she made, she knocked loudly.

  It took another couple of knocks before Mr Rigger appeared at the door, wearing a dark dressing gown with small anchors all over it.

  He looked half asleep. “What is it?” he asked drowsily. “What’s wrong?”

  Poppy did the talking. “Three of the boys are swimming, Mr Rigger. They can’t realise how dangerous it is. We thought we should tell you.”

  Mr Rigger was now fully awake. “Oh no!” he said. “That’s extremely dangerous. Where are they?”

  Fee explained that they were about to swim right round the ship. This brought another exclamation of alarm from Mr Rigger, who had now retrieved a large and powerful flashlight from a shelf near his door. Then he strode out along the corridor, followed by the two girls.

  “You did the right thing to tell me,” he said. “Well done, girls.”

  Once out on the deck, Mr Rigger made his way towards the bow of the boat. Then, leaning over the railings, he shone his flashlight down towards the sea. The beam soon picked up a shape in the water. Then another, and another after that.

  “Hardtack!” shouted Mr Rigger. “Shark! Flubber! Get out of the water this instant!”

  Caught in the beam of light, Hardtack looked up at the figures on the deck. “But we were only going for a swim, sir,” he shouted back. “It was really hot. We needed to cool down.”

  This only served to make Mr Rigger even angrier. “I said this instant,” he called out. “You’re in extreme danger.”

  The mention of danger seemed to have some effect, and the boys started to swim back towards the rope ladder they had slung over the side as fast as they could. Soon they were all clambering up onto the deck, their hair dishevelled, water dripping from their swimming trunks.

  “We weren’t doing any harm,” muttered Hardtack, scowling at the two girls as he spoke.

  Mr Rigger lined the three boys up. “I don’t think you realise the risk you were taking,” he said severely. “Swimming in these waters is forbidden for a reason. And swimming at night even more so.”

  “There wasn’t anything in the water, sir,” offered Flubber in an attempt at an excuse. “We didn’t see anything.”

  “Didn’t see anything?” exploded Mr Rigger. “That’s exactly the point, Flubber. You don’t see what’s below you in the water. But it sees you, all right! Oh yes, it sees you.”

  Hardtack said nothing, and neither did Shark and Flubber. But they all shot hostile glances towards Poppy and Fee. Mr Rigger noticed this. “These girls probably saved your lives, you know,” Mr Rigger continued. “I think you should thank them. If they hadn’t come to get me, you could be inside the stomach of a great white shark by now. Or inside a large saltwater crocodile, for that matter.”

  Hardtack smirked. “Oh, surely not, sir …”

  Mr Rigger did not let him continue. “So, I suggest you thank them,” he said.

  The boys said nothing.

  “Go on,” said Mr Rigger, sounding even firmer now. “
Thank them,” before adding, “and that’s an order.”

  Reluctantly, the boys mumbled their thanks, though neither Poppy nor Fee felt they meant a word of it. Then, having been ordered below, they made their bedraggled way back to their cabins.

  Mr Rigger turned to Poppy and Fee. “You two should go back to bed,” he said. “And if those boys cause you any trouble, come straight to me.”

  Poppy and Fee returned to their cabin and climbed into their hammocks. Poppy was tired now and had no difficulty dropping off to sleep. Fee lay awake for a bit longer and then she too dozed off, lulled by the gentle rocking of the ship.

  At breakfast the next day Shark scowled at Poppy, but she stared right back at him and he immediately looked away. He was clearly furious at having been caught red-handed during his night-time swim. Afterwards, though, when they were filing up onto the deck for the pre-race briefing, Flubber sidled up to Fee.

  “About last night,” he muttered. “We were hauled up before the Captain first thing this morning, you know. We had a real telling-off.”

  Fee braced herself for a threat.

  “I want you to know,” Flubber went on, “that I’m glad you called Mr Rigger.”

  Fee could not contain her surprise. She stared at Flubber in astonishment as he explained. “It wasn’t my idea,” Flubber continued, glancing around him as he spoke. “Bill suggested it.”

  Bill? It took Fee a moment or two before she realised that Flubber was talking about Hardtack. Somehow, the shortening of his name made him seem much less threatening. But then she thought: No, names tell you nothing about what a person is really like.

  “Hardtack?” Fee asked. “Are you talking about him?”

  Flubber nodded. “Yes. He said he was feeling hot and wanted to cool down. I reminded him that we’d been told not to swim, but he said that was all nonsense. He said that he’d seen people swimming off the beach earlier on, and if they could do it, then why couldn’t we?”

  “Maybe it’s safer close to the shore,” said Fee. “If the water’s shallow, you can see the crocodiles.”

  “Maybe,” said Flubber. “Anyway, Geoff wanted to go too, so I felt I couldn’t say anything. They’d think I was a coward if I refused to go.”

  He looked at her pleadingly, as if he wanted her support, and for a few moments Fee thought of what it must be like to be Flubber and to worry about what Hardtack and Shark thought of you. She looked at him and realised she actually felt sorry for him. Nobody is completely bad. Even William Edward Hardtack, she told herself, must have some good points. Flubber, certainly, seemed nowhere near as unpleasant as he was.

  “You must have felt scared down there in the water,” she said.

  Flubber looked at her with gratitude. He seemed relieved that here was somebody who understood.

  “I was petrified,” he confided. “All the time while Bill and Sharky were splashing around, I was thinking of what might also be swimming around underneath us. I tried to keep my legs up as much as possible so that if there was something there it would get to their legs before mine.” He paused before he continued, “I know that makes me sound bad, but that’s the way it was.”

  “Don’t feel bad,” Fee said. “They were the ones who wanted to go. You were … you were …” She searched for the right words. She wanted to say, You were the one who was easily led, but she realised that this would make him sound weak. Poor Flubber! Why could he just not get away from the influence of the other two? Why couldn’t he simply have nothing to do with them?

  Flubber found the words for her. “I was the weak one,” he said miserably. “I know I shouldn’t do everything they tell me to, but it’s hard, you know.”

  Fee felt even sorrier for him now.

  “And what I wanted to say,” Flubber continued, “is that I’m very grateful for what you did. I think we really were in danger.”

  Fee was about to tell him she was glad that she and Poppy had been able to help, but before she could do so Geoffrey Shark appeared and muttered something to Flubber. Fee did not catch what it was, but she saw its effect: Flubber immediately turned away and went off with the other boy.

  Poppy had seen Flubber talking to Fee and came over to ask her what it had all been about.

  “So what did Flubber have to say?” she enquired.

  “He wanted to thank us,” Fee answered. “He was really scared in the water.”

  Poppy thought about this. Of the three boys, Flubber was definitely the least obnoxious. He had a reputation for lying, but for all anybody knew he might be capable of changing. She had known people who had taken a good hard look at their faults and had done something about them. Perhaps Flubber was beginning to do just that.

  “Perhaps we should try to be more friendly to Flubber,” Poppy said.

  Fee made a face.

  “Yes, I know,” said Poppy. “But maybe we should give him a chance.”

  Fee realised that Poppy was right. Friendship with somebody you don’t like can be hard, but she knew it was sometimes what you have to do. “We could try,” she said.

  “Let’s do that,” said Poppy. “And then we could see if Shark too could be persuaded to show his good side.”

  Fee raised her eyebrows. “Some things are very, very unlikely,” she said.

  “It might be worth a go,” Poppy mused. “And if you don’t try something, how will you ever know if it’s possible?”

  Fee had to agree on that, but she wondered if Ben and Badger would think so too.

  “Well,” said Poppy, “it’s exactly the same thing: if you don’t ask them, you won’t find out.”

  Their conversation ended on that note. The Captain had now arrived and they needed to pay attention to what he had to say.

  “In half an hour,” the Captain announced, “the Tall Ships race will begin. I’ve looked at the weather forecast for the next week or so, and I’m happy to say the wind is in a favourable direction and will be fairly strong. That means we have some very exciting sailing ahead of us, everyone.”

  Now he unrolled a large chart on which he pointed out the route from the starting point of the race to the final destination. The voyage would take them up to the easterly tip of Australia, the Cape York Peninsula, and then across the wide Gulf of Carpentaria to a bay at the foot of Kangaroo Cliff.

  “The first ship to reach Kangaroo Cliff,” he said, “wins the race.”

  Poppy and Fee exchanged excited glances. Ben, who was standing nearby, smiled at them and asked them whether they thought the Tobermory might win. Poppy laughed. “Of course,” she said.

  Fee was more cautious. “I hope so,” she said.

  The Captain now gave detailed instructions. Ben and Badger were on helming duty for the first two hours, while Poppy and Fee were charged with handling some of the sheets – the ropes that controlled the sails. Thomas was to help with navigation, as were Tanya and Angela. Others were detailed to raise the anchor, keep the mainsail in trim and climb up the mast to keep a look-out. Everybody had their duties and was determined to do them to the best of his or her ability, even if it was something as simple as helping Cook to peel potatoes for lunch.

  Lunch, though, was a long time away and nobody was thinking of that just yet. They had a race to begin. That was quite enough for the time being.

  The start of the race was marked by the firing of a small cannon from the deck of an Australian naval ship. As soon as they heard the cannon and saw the small puff of smoke that accompanied its firing, all hands on the Tobermory gave a loud cheer. There was cheering too from the crews of the other ships, and commands were shouted in many different languages as sails were tightened and the sleek hulls of the ships surged forwards, cutting their way through the waves, throwing up clouds of foam and spray.

  The Melbourne led the way. The Australian boat seemed to pick up a favourable wind within a minute or two of the starting cannon, shooting ahead of its nearest rival, the Prince of Hamburg. After that came the Spirit of Hokianga and one of the smal
ler ships, an Italian boat called the Napoli. It was disappointing for the students on the Tobermory to find themselves lagging behind, but as Mr Rigger pointed out as he went round the deck checking up on everybody, “A race isn’t over until it’s finished, and that’s many, many days away.” The next few days were something of a blur in the memory of most members of the Tobermory crew. A fully rigged sailing ship, moving at top speed in a strong wind, can be like a galloping horse. It must be carefully controlled all the time – held in check one moment, while being allowed to shoot ahead the next. Not only must the sails be coaxed into just the right shape, to take advantage of every breath of wind, but a sharp eye must be kept on what the sea itself is doing. Where are the waves coming from? How big are they? Will they help the ship along or will they hinder her by making her wallow in the troughs between their crests?

  It was demanding work, and while they were racing along there was no time for lessons. This meant that the normal routine of a school ship was suspended, just as it was during the official school holidays. But this was no holiday for the students of the Tobermory. The day was divided into watches, and every minute of every watch involved hard work – tugging at ropes, keeping the deck clear, struggling with the helm as the ship fought with the action of wind and wave. At the end of their watches, most people were utterly exhausted and would collapse into their hammocks for some much needed rest.

  At night the pace continued, as they were in the open sea and there was no place to drop anchor and spend the hours of darkness getting their breath back. The night hours, too, were divided into watches. Those whose watches fell during the small hours of the morning had to be woken, get dressed and report on deck, no matter how tired they felt.