Captain Blackpatch was very surprised when he met the driving-test examiner. ‘You're a woman!’ he cried.
Mrs Broadside ticked a little box on her examination sheet. ‘Well done, she murmured. ‘You have just passed the eyesight test. Shall we go? What should you do first, before you start?’
‘Er, check my lipstick.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I mean, mirror, signal and move off.’
‘Good. Off we go then. What an interesting vehicle. I like the skull and crossbones.’ Mrs Broadside glanced at the Captain. ‘You must be a pirate.’
‘No, I'm a bank manager.’
‘Really? I suppose it's much the same thing. Now, how about a three-point turn.’
Captain Blackpatch's three-point turn actually had four-and-a-half points in it, but Mrs Broadside didn't seem to mind, and only shut her eyes briefly. Nor did Mrs Broadside seem to mind when the Captain reversed into a pillar box and knocked it over. Mrs Broadside shut her eyes for several seconds and gave her head a little shake.
She didn't even seem worried when she asked the Captain what the speed limit on the High Street was, and he thought she wanted him to drive along it as fast as possible. They raced down the High Street at eighty-five miles an hour. This time, Mrs Broadside kept her eyes shut all the time and Captain Blackpatch was sure she was singing to herself – or maybe it was a little moan.
‘Emergency stop!’ cried Mrs Broadside, and Blackpatch threw the anchor out of the window. This time, it was not the bumper that came off, but the lamp-post that was wrenched from the ground and dragged behind with a lot of clanging and clattering.
They went back to the test centre where Mrs Broadside sat inside the truck, in silence, with her eyes still shut, for what seemed like ages. Captain Blackpatch lamp-post to one side and bit his lip nervously. Had he passed? At last Mrs Broadside took a deep, deep breath, opened her eyes and turned to the Captain.
‘Mr Blackpatch, if I fail you on this test you will probably come back and frighten the living daylights out of me all over again. I don't want that to happen, so I am going to pass you, on one condition…’
‘I am yours for ever, delightful woman!’ cried Blackpatch in an enthusiastic display of relief.
‘Go away! I don't want you to be mine for one second, let alone for ever. I will pass you only on the condition that if you ever see me again you will drive away in the opposite direction. Is that understood?’
‘If you insist.’
Mrs Broadside did insist. She got out of the truck and staggered into the test centre. Captain Blackpatch gave her a cheerful toot and drove back home. He screeched to a halt outside number 25 and leaped out of the truck.
‘I won!’ he yelled, jigging a little hornpipe up the path.
The other pirates came hurtling out of the house and crowded round their leader. ‘Oh good,’ shouted Bald Ben. ‘Well done, Cap'n.’
Molly and Polly tugged at their gallant leader. ‘Then we can have a treat after all. What is it?’ Captain Blackpatch grinned at their expectant faces.
‘We are going on a holiday,’ he announced.
‘A holiday!’ cried Lumpy Lawson. ‘I've never had a holiday before.’
‘Yes, a camping holiday,’ added Blackpatch, ‘with a proper tent and everything. It will be terrific.’
Blackpatch was only slightly wrong here. As things turned out, the holiday was not exactly ‘terrific’, but it was something beginning with ‘t-e-r-r’, and it did have the same number of letters. But it was a word that meant something a lot different.
3 Trouble from Next Door
The campsite was large, and full of campers. There were big tents and little tents. There were trailer tents and tents on wheels. There were tents that looked like igloos and tents that looked like tepees… and then there was the Indoor Pirates' tent, and that looked like nothing on earth.
The pirates had never put up a tent before. Captain Blackpatch stood on the deck of the truck and shouted out instructions. ‘That pole goes there, Lumpy. No, not in Ben's ear, you hopeless haddock! Down a bit… up a bit…’
But it was no use. Nobody really knew what they were doing, not even the Captain. By the time they had finished, the tent was flat in one place and pointy in another. It was floppy in the middle and stretchy round the edges. It had a door in the roof and a plastic window
on the floor. Even Lumpy Lawson thought there were a few too many lumps in it. ‘I don't think we've put it up properly,’ he said.
‘Why is the window on the bottom?’ asked Polly. ‘That's silly.’
‘No it isn't,’ Molly replied. ‘That's so we can say “hello” to all the worms and things.’
‘Nobody says “hello” to worms! You're stupid.’
‘I'm not. You have to say “hello” to them, otherwise they'll think you're rude and they'll bite you.’
‘Worms don't bite.’
‘They'll bite you,’ insisted Molly. ‘They always bite horrible people, and they'll suck out all your bones and your body will go like jelly and you'll be all floppy and everyone will laugh at you and call you things like Polly-wobble and –’
‘Pickled penguins!’ roared Blackpatch. ‘We are trying to put up a tent. We are not having a discussion about being polite to worms. I've had enough. I am going exploring to see where everything is, and by the time I come back I expect this tent to be put up properly.’
Blackpatch left the other pirates to get on with the hard work, while he went for a gentle stroll. His head was all in a bother and he needed a bit of peace and quiet so that it could un-bother itself.
It was an interesting campsite, full of twisty paths that wound their way among the many tents and caravans. Blackpatch hardly noticed, but as he strode along people popped out of their tents and pointed and whispered to each other. ‘Pirates! There are pirates on the campsite!’
The Captain reached the far end of the camp, and there he made a very important discovery. The campsite was built next to a lake. It was a big blue lake, shimmering in the late-afternoon sun, but it was not the lake itself that caught the Captain's attention. It was what was in the middle of the lake.
There was an island – a small, wooded island. A hill crowned the middle, and a little beach ran all around its edge like a rim around a hat.
Now, although Captain Blackpatch didn't care for the sea, or lakes, or ponds, or puddles, or even little drips of water, he did like islands. As far as Captain Blackpatch knew there was only one reason for there being an island. Islands were there so that people could bury things on them. And the only things that people buried were valuable things – like treasure.
Looking across the shining water, Blackpatch could see people on the distant island. What were they doing? Surely they were digging? DIGGING! He screwed up his eyes and squinted hard, trying to focus them more clearly. The big question was: were the diggers putting something in, or taking something out?
A little boy ran past, stopped, came back slowly and then stood and stared at the Captain. ‘Are you a real pirate?’ he asked. Blackpatch glared down at him fiercely.
‘I might be. Are those real binoculars hanging round your neck?’ The boy nodded. ‘In that case, I'm a real pirate and if you don't lend them to me I'll chop you up and make you into sausages.’
The boy, whose name was Jack, didn't budge, but merely asked what kind of sausages. ‘Pork and herb, or spicy beef?’
Captain Blackpatch grabbed the binoculars. ‘Don't be so cheeky! You children are supposed to be scared of pirates. Haven't you seen Captain Hook in that film?’
‘Yes, an' the crocodile got him and it'll get you too. Give me my binoculars back.’ Jack made a grab for his binoculars.
‘Don't snatch, you horribly small, squeaky person. Urgh! Half your front teeth are missing!’
‘They came out and there are new ones growing. I bet you don't get new teeth when yours fall out, ’cos you're too old. Give me my binoculars or I'll tell my mum.’
<
br /> ‘Will you stop snatching? I must see what they're doing on the island. I don't care if you tell the Queen Mother. I'm not scared of wimpy-pimpy women. Ah! Brilliant! They are burying something! We're going to be rich!’ Blackpatch at last let go of the binoculars and Jack ran off.
The Captain hurried back to the tent and was surprised to find it looking just as it should. The door was in the right place, and so were the window, the ceiling, and the
floor. Lumpy Lawson had set up a barbecue. Bald Ben was gathering a little bunch of wild flowers but, best of all, there was no sign of the twins.
‘They had an argument about who could run the furthest,’ said Lumpy Lawson. ‘They set off to find out and haven't come back yet. Oh, pimplepox! The flames have gone out again.’
‘The lady next door put the tent up for us,’ explained Bald Ben. ‘She's ever so nice. I think she likes me.’ Bald Ben's face cracked into a huge grin and he flushed red. ‘She said I was just like a big baby.’
Blackpatch was about to point out to Ben that being called a big baby was not exactly a compliment, but he had far more important things to say. ‘Come closer,’ he whispered. ‘Don't tell anyone, but I think there's treasure near by.’
‘Treasure!’ cried Bald Ben.
‘Ssssh! I said don't tell anyone. There's a lake just over there with an island in the middle, and I saw someone burying something.’
Lumpy Lawson put some sausages on the barbecue. He frowned deeply. ‘How are we going to get to the island?’ he asked. ‘Islands are surrounded by water. I don't like water.’
‘None of us likes water,’ Captain Blackpatch pointed out. ‘But if we want the treasure we are going to have to get across to that island somehow. I want you both to keep an eye out for some way of getting to the island, OK?’
Bald Ben and Lumpy both nodded. Lumpy turned the sausages over and dropped three of them into the long grass. He tried picking them up but they were rather hot. ‘Yakky-yoo! Ow! Ow!’ He dropped the sausages back in the grass, speared them angrily with a fork and popped them back on the barbecue, covered with wisps of dry grass.
‘They look nice,’ observed the Captain tartly.
‘Herbs,’ muttered Lumpy, sucking his burnt fingers. ‘They're sprinkled with herbs. Campers always eat their sausages like this.’
‘I think I'll have mine without, thank you all the same,’ growled the Captain.
There was a loud noise in the distance, and a moment later Polly and Molly appeared, still running. They flung themselves into the depths of the tent, and even before they could start quarrelling Blackpatch was looming over them with a menacing scowl. ‘Don't say a word,’ he hissed, ‘or you won't get any supper, and it's sausages – special sausages with herbs.’
Luckily, the twins were too puffed out to argue with Blackpatch, themselves or anyone at all. Hardly had the twins settled down than the boy with the binoculars went strolling past, took one look at Blackpatch, and ran straight to his mother in the tent next door.
‘Mum! Mum! That man tried to take my binoculars an' he said he'd make me into sausages an' he said he's not scared of wimpy-pimpy women.’
Jack's mother came striding out of her tent, her jaw set and fire flashing in her eyes. She went straight up to Blackpatch and stabbed him in the chest with a dagger-like finger. ‘Who are you…’ poke! ‘…calling a wimpy-pimpy woman?’ poke! ‘You listen to me…’ poke! poke! ‘If you hurt my son…’ poke! ‘… I'll pull that silly hat down your head so far…’ poke! ‘…that you'll be wearing it round your bony bottom like a skirt!’ poke! ‘Then we'll see who the wimpy-pimpy woman is!’
She gave three more pokes and Captain Blackpatch disappeared backwards into the back of the tent with a resounding crash. Jack's mother turned and stormed back to her own tent.
Bald Ben peered in at the Captain, who was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.
‘That was the lady who put up our tent,’ he said. ‘I told you she was nice.’
‘She's not nice!’ bellowed Blackpatch. ‘And she's not a lady! She's a monster, a… a dinosaur, a demon, a dragon!’
Bald Ben stood over the Captain with his big arm muscles twitching angrily. He shook his little bunch of flowers at Blackpatch. ‘Don't you call her names,’ he said. ‘She put our tent up for us and that was very nice of her, and I like her and I picked these flowers for her!’
Captain Blackpatch groaned and sat up. ‘Ben – you're a pirate! Pirates don't go round the place giving wimpy women bunches of flowers!’
‘She can't have been that wimpy,’ Bald Ben baldly pointed out. ‘She sorted you out, didn't she?’
‘I didn't want to hurt her,’ snapped Blackpatch. ‘Anyhow, we must keep an eye on her and that pesky Jack. He was with me when I saw the island and I think he spotted the treasure being buried too. I bet he's after it.’
Even Bald Ben realized that this might cause major trouble, and he stuck the flowers in a plastic mug, put them on the camping table and stared at them wistfully. Lumpy Lawson finished the barbecue and served up lumpy sausages to everyone, including the Captain. (Lumpy had dropped them again and now they had little clods of mud clinging to them, as well as grass.)
That night, the pirates lay rocking in their hammocks and whispering secret plans to each other. ‘Tomorrow we must think of a way to reach the island,’ muttered the Captain.
‘We could build a raft,’ suggested Polly.
‘I've got a better idea,’ Molly hissed, but Blackpatch smacked his lips crossly and pulled a long wisp of grass from between his teeth. ‘Nice sausages, Lumpy,’ he murmured, before turning over and falling into a deep, treasure-full sleep.
4 On the Treasure Trail
Lumpy Lawson reckoned his brain would burst from the top of his head if he thought any harder. Even the twins were looking vaguely pensive. It was breakfast time and the pirates were sitting round the camping table and trying to think of a good way to reach the island.
‘What about a bridge?’ suggested Bald Ben.
‘Too difficult,’ chorused the others.
‘A submarine…’ Lumpy offered, and was met with looks of speechless horror from the others. The mere thought of being right under the water was too much to bear.
‘A raft,’ said Polly. ‘I said last night we should make a raft.’
‘It was my idea first,’ Molly claimed.
‘It was not! It was my idea, and I said it, and everybody heard me.’
‘Yeah, but I thought of it before you; I just didn't say anything.’
‘Well, it doesn't count if you don't say,’ Polly shouted indignantly.
‘Does!’
‘Doesn't!’
With one accord, the other three pirates drew their swords and threatened the twins with instant death if they didn't shut up. Captain Blackpatch tugged thoughtfully at his pointy chin. ‘We've got to get that treasure. We shall have to find some kind of boat.’
‘But, Captain, you always get seasick,’ Lumpy said gloomily.
‘Surely you can't get seasick on a lake?’ Ben wanted to know. ‘I've never heard of anyone getting lake-sick. Anyhow, I've not seen any boats around here.’
Blackpatch impatiently drummed his fingers on the table. ‘Neither have I. Maybe we shall be able to find one in the town.’ This met with general approval so they clambered into, or on to, the truck and off they went to Bumpton, with the pirates bouncing about in the back very uncomfortably, all except for Captain Blackpatch who sat in the front and drove and felt very comfortable, thank you very much.
Bumpton was a holiday town. It was full of knick-knack shops and flags and balloons and noisy people. Blackpatch was looking for somewhere to park, but the only spot he could find was marked ‘DISABLED DRIVERS ONLY’. Blackpatch screeched to a halt. He jumped out of the truck, pulled one arm from his jacket-sleeve and hid his arm inside his jacket so that the sleeve looked empty.
‘That's cheating,’ scolded Bald Ben. Blackpatch rolled his eyes in despair.
; ‘Ben, however did you become a pirate? Pirates are supposed to cheat… and rob, and steal, and generally be nasty.’
‘Well, I don't think that's very nice,’ Ben muttered moodily, and he trailed after the others as they followed their captain up the High Street.
Bumpton was not the best place to go for a boat hunt. The pirates searched and searched without success, until at last Lumpy Lawson spotted something bright and boat-ish hanging in the window of a toyshop.
‘Look, Captain! That's what we need.’ And there it was – a bright yellow, inflatable dinghy. Blackpatch eyed it thoughtfully, and wondered how they could steal it.
‘Lumpy, you go inside and keep the shop-keeper busy. When the right moment comes, we'll nip in and pinch the boat. Go on, do your stuff!’ Lumpy was pushed into the shop and the shop-keeper came forward to the counter with a smile. Lumpy's heart was in his mouth. What was he to do?
‘Can I help you?’ asked the shop-keeper.
‘Oh, um, yes, oh – look!’ Lumpy suddenly pointed up behind the shop-keeper's head. ‘There's a butterfly.’ The shop-keeper turned and gazed up behind him for a moment. Lumpy beckoned frantically to the others who were still waiting outside, but Blackpatch just made faces back at him.
‘Go on!’ mouthed the Captain crossly.
‘I can't see a butterfly,’ said the shop-keeper, quite mystified. Lumpy tried again.
‘Oh, look – there's a gorilla in a bikini!’
The shop-keeper turned and looked where Lumpy was pointing, but Blackpatch's sword had stuck in his belt and he was having an almighty struggle. Lumpy was beginning to panic.
‘Oh, look!’ he said for the third time. ‘There's a piano on fire and I think you ought to put it out.’
The shop-keeper gazed steadily at Lumpy. ‘I'm sorry, sir, but I don't understand what kind of game you're playing. Now, is there anything you want?’ Lumpy gave up in despair.
The Indoor Pirates On Treasure Island Page 2