Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Zoological Society of London
Paw Prints in the Snow
Also by Sally Grindley
Chapter 1
‘Name the smallest horse in the world,’ Peter Brook challenged his two children.
Aesha had just returned from swimming practice. She dumped her bag in the middle of the hall and joined her father in the kitchen. Joe, hearing the sounds of his sister and mother’s return, had appeared from upstairs, where he had been doing his homework.
‘A pony,’ he said.
‘Funny, ha, ha!’ scoffed Aesha. ‘That’s not a type of horse – it’s just a young horse.’
‘No, it’s not,’ argued Joe. ‘A pony is a particular type of horse with a small build. Isn’t it, Mum?’
Binti nodded. ‘Joe’s right, love. You’re confusing pony with foal.’
‘Shetland, then,’ Aesha said sulkily. ‘Who cares, anyway?’ At thirteen, she was four years older than Joe and didn’t like it when he proved her wrong.
‘That counts as a pony, and I said pony,’ Joe objected.
‘You’re both wrong.’ Their father grinned. ‘I’m thinking of something much, much smaller.’
‘I know!’ cried Joe. ‘A seahorse!’
‘Correct,’ said Peter. ‘Go to the top of the class.’
‘That’s cheating,’ Aesha grumbled.
‘As my favourite little water baby, I thought you’d be the first to guess.’ Peter held a bowl of peanuts out to placate her. ‘Now, guess who’s been invited to photograph seahorses in the Philippines!’
‘And guess who’s going with him!’ said Binti.
‘The Queen,’ Aesha suggested.
Her father pretended to cuff her.
‘You, Dad? And you, Mum?’ Joe questioned.
‘Anyone else going?’ Aesha asked cautiously.
‘Pick your swimming bag up off the floor if you want the answer to be yes,’ Binti instructed.
‘We’re all going to the Philippines for four weeks over the summer holidays,’ Peter confirmed the minute Aesha had emptied the contents of the swimming bag into the wash and put it away.
‘Cool!’ said Joe.
‘It’ll be rather hot, actually!’ said his father.
‘Even better!’ Aesha joined in. She hated the cold, and even though she had enjoyed their recent trip to eastern Russia, where her mother had been invited to work with tiger experts, she much preferred the idea of going somewhere hot.
‘What will you do while we’re there, Mum?’ Joe asked.
‘I hope to learn a little more about seahorses,’ she replied. ‘They’re not something I’ve ever had to deal with. However, since more and more people are keeping them in aquaria – because they’re cute – it might be as well if I were better informed.’
Binti was an international wildlife vet who worked locally with sick animals, and regularly travelled overseas to lend her expertise where it was needed.
‘I bet the seahorses don’t like being kept in aquaria very much,’ said Joe.
‘Unless you’re a real expert, they’re very tricky to look after,’ replied Binti. ‘Seahorses are fussy eaters and get sick and stressed very easily, especially if they don’t have somewhere to hide or are put in with other fish that take their food.’
‘People are so dumb,’ said Aesha. ‘Why do they have to turn every animal into a pet?’
‘It’s one of the reasons they’re becoming endangered,’ Binti said.
‘What, people?’ Peter grinned.
‘Bad joke, Dad,’ said Aesha. ‘Will we be able to go snorkelling?’
He nodded. ‘Of course – you’ll be like a couple of beetles scuttling around on top of the water.’
‘How long is the flight to the Philippines?’ Joe wanted to know.
‘It’s around twelve hours to Hong Kong, and then another two and a half hours to Cebu,’ said Binti.
Joe groaned. ‘I hate long flights – they’re so boring, and I can never get to sleep.’
‘That’s because you spend your time imagining that everyone else is up to no good.’ Peter laughed.
‘That’s not true,’ Joe protested. ‘Just because I thought someone on a plane was a smuggler once . . .’
‘When are we going?’ Aesha asked.
‘Two days after you break up from school. You children just don’t know how lucky you are.’
Joe looked at his father. He thought he probably did know how lucky they were – his friends told him often enough. It would have been easy to think that everyone travelled to far-flung corners of the world on a regular basis considering his family’s lifestyle, but his friends assured him that wasn’t the case.
‘Poor Foggy will be off to the doggery again, I suppose,’ Joe said, pushing his bottom lip out sadly.
‘Poor Foggy will be off to Waggy Tails Boarding Kennels, as usual, where he’ll be seriously pampered and spoilt, leaving your mother and me teetering on the edge of bankruptcy.’
‘As an endangered species, I’m sure the seahorses will be very grateful for any sacrifices Foggy makes on their behalf,’ Binti replied, smiling.
Chapter 2
Since his father’s announcement, Joe had been counting down the days to their trip and now, the day before they were due to leave, he was amazed to discover that the Philippines were an archipelago of over seven thousand islands in the Pacific Ocean. He hadn’t given it much thought until then.
‘Only four thousand are lived on,’ his father told him. ‘The rest are too small or are uninhabitable.’
‘Will we stay on just one of them?’
‘We’ll stay for several days on Jandayan Island, which is where many of the studies on seahorses are being carried out, and then we’ll go island-hopping.’
‘Cool!’ said Joe.
Binti explained that there were at least forty species of seahorse in the world.
‘The largest is the big-belly seahorse, which is about the size of a banana, while the smallest is Denise’s pygmy, which is about the size of a pine nut.’
‘I can tell you something about seahorses too,’ said Aesha. ‘It’s the male that gives birth to the babies and he carries them in his pouch.’
‘Quite right,’ Binti agreed. ‘Depending on the species, he can be pregnant from nine to forty-five days, and may have between five and two thousand babies in his pouch.’
‘Two thousand!’ Joe exclaimed.
‘I know something else,’ said Aesha proudly. ‘Seahorses mate for life.’
‘Ah, isn’t that nice,’ said Peter. ‘Just like your mum and me. Though when she gives me one of her scary looks, I wonder if I haven’t made a big mistake.’
Binti gave him a scary look and chased him with a tea towel. Joe joined in, pulling the worst face he could, and Foggy, their schnauzer, woken by the excitement, scurried round Peter’s legs, barking loudly.
‘I knew it! My son’s taking after his mother, and even the dog’s against me,’ Peter cried dramatically. ‘I bet a big-belly seahorse doesn’t have to put up with such treatment. I’ll have to retire to my shed for a bit of peace and quiet.’
‘A seahorse doesn’t have a shed to retire to,’ Aesha observed.
‘More like a stable!’ Joe chortled. ‘Ha!’
‘You’re all mad,’ said Binti,
‘and I’ll be hopping mad if you don’t hurry up and finish packing.’
‘Do you mean island-hopping mad?’ Joe said, grinning.
‘Ha, funny, ha,’ said Aesha. ‘You and Dad tell the worst jokes.’
‘Nobody would think we were going away for a month tomorrow morning from the state of your rooms,’ said Binti in exasperation. ‘Now move!’
‘It’s that scary face again,’ Peter said.
Binti picked up a broom and swept them out of the kitchen.
Joe ran to his bedroom, shoved his model-making kit under the bed, grabbed his underpants, T-shirts and shorts from the drawers and dumped them in the case Binti had left out for him. He took his camera from the shelf, wrapped it in a towel and placed it carefully in a corner of the case. Then he picked up his flip-flops and a pair of sandals and threw them in on top. He could hear Aesha complaining that her suitcase was too small to accommodate everything she needed, and his father replying that she wouldn’t require her ball gown and tiara where they were going.
Joe was incredibly excited. He had been on plenty of trips with his parents before, but this one promised to be particularly fascinating, and he would have plenty of opportunities to take photographs like his father. He loved travelling on boats and he had never snorkelled before, so that was something else to look forward to. There was also something very appealing about seahorses that made him eager to see them in their natural environment. He laid his brand new flippers and snorkel mask in the suitcase, hoping that this was going to be his best adventure yet.
Chapter 3
Joe bagged the window seat on the flight from Heathrow to Hong Kong. He loved looking out as the plane left the ground and everything grew smaller and smaller. He was amused for a while by a young Filipino girl who kept popping up from the seat in front, gazing over the top of it, bright-eyed and mischievous, then ducking down again. Peter encouraged her by pulling hilarious faces, but the game stopped when she fell fast asleep, sprawled across her mother’s lap. Joe watched a film, played card games with Binti, and read some of his book, which was about orphan children living on the streets.
‘The kids in this story are so poor, Mum, the only way they can get anything to eat is to search through people’s rubbish for something to sell.’ Joe was indignant that anyone should have to do that.
‘I’m afraid it’s like that in many parts of the world, and I agree that it’s terrible. The Philippines is one of the poorest countries in the world, and lots of children live on the streets in the cities.’
Joe was shocked. He had imagined they were going somewhere full of happiness and sunshine and laughter. He supposed the reason he had thought that was because they had packed T-shirts and shorts and were planning to go snorkelling and island-hopping. It had all sounded very idyllic.
‘Is that why seahorses are endangered?’ he asked. ‘Is it because people sell them to make money to live?’
‘It’s partly that,’ Binti agreed, ‘although lots of different things usually combine to cause problems for an endangered species. It’s very important for local people to be involved in saving the seahorses, which is why the experts in the field are working very closely with local communities.’
‘Like in Russia, with the tigers?’
Binti nodded. ‘Without the support of the locals, conservationists fight a losing battle.’
Joe nodded. He had already learnt first-hand how teams of Russians had been trained to patrol areas where the Amur tiger roamed, in order to prevent hunting and poaching.
‘It’s no different back home, you know,’ Binti continued. ‘There are plenty of endangered species in England. They may not be as high profile as tigers and rhinos, but that doesn’t make them less important. And again, local communities are encouraged to get involved in helping to save them.’
Joe closed his eyes and wondered if there were any endangered species in the area where they lived. He hadn’t heard of any, but he could think of a few species he would be happy to see disappear, like daddy-long-legs and cockroaches – and his maths teacher. He didn’t think anyone would rally to save his maths teacher.
‘Penny for them,’ Joe heard his father saying. ‘You were grinning all over your face.’
‘I was thinking about Mr Gregory.’
‘Well, that’s nothing to smile about.’ His father laughed. ‘You hate maths and Mr Gregory is your worst nightmare. I can’t believe you’re taking them on holiday with you.’
‘I wish both of them were extinct!’ Joe grinned again.
‘Poor Mr Gregory,’ said Peter. ‘I’m sure somebody somewhere would miss him.’
‘Were you good at maths at school, Dad?’ Joe asked.
‘Hopeless,’ said Peter. ‘You take after your old man in that direction, I’m afraid. Your mum’s much better.’
Joe closed his eyes again. This time his mind drifted away on images of his family swimming like fish in a warm sea, surrounded by seahorses and other marine creatures, and accepted as guardians of their environment. Even the sharks were friendly, swimming alongside them, nudging them with their noses every so often . . .
When a voice eventually found its way through the water, telling him to fasten his seat belt, he ignored it first of all, thinking that this instruction couldn’t apply to him. He felt someone leaning across him and, as he surfaced for air, he heard someone say that they were coming in to land.
Chapter 4
The flight from Hong Kong to Cebu passed very quickly. Joe and his family were refreshed from an overnight stay at a hotel in Hong Kong, and no sooner had they boarded the flight, it seemed, than they were being told to prepare for landing. Much to Joe’s delight, the final part of their journey was to be by sea.
They reached the harbour-side by midday and were shown to their boat. Joe thought it was the weirdest thing he had ever seen! It was very narrow and pointed at both ends, and had several bent wooden poles sticking out from each side, making it look like a giant water boatman. There were four other passengers already sitting under the canopy in the middle, together with a pig and two cockerels that kept fighting.
‘We’re not going on there, are we?’ Aesha was horrified.
‘Unless you’ve learnt to walk on water, yes,’ Peter replied.
‘It’s cool!’ said Joe.
As soon as he had been helped on board, he made for the front and beckoned his family to join him.
‘We can see everything from here,’ he said excitedly.
It was a beautiful warm day. While they waited for the boat to depart, Joe peered over the side to see if he could catch his first glimpse of marine life. A shoal of small brown fish flashed by, so close to the water’s surface that he could have touched them had the sides of the boat been lower. He wondered if there were seahorses deeper down. It gave him a funny feeling to think that a whole world of activity was going on unseen below them.
There was also a whole world of activity on the seafront as the boat’s engine started up. Crowds of children had gathered and were waving cheerfully at them. Binti waved back and Joe and Aesha joined in. Beside them, their father was preparing his video camera. Joe wished he had taken his own camera from his suitcase, which had been stowed on a luggage rack underneath a pile of others. ‘One of the secrets of being a successful photographer,’ Peter had told him more than once, ‘is being ready to snap when the unexpected happens.’
‘What are you going to photograph?’ Joe asked.
‘Children who are as poor as church mice with great big smiles on their faces,’ Peter replied. ‘No mobiles, no laptops, no shoes on their feet, but look at them.’
The children were even happier when they realised they were being filmed. Joe couldn’t help but laugh at their antics as they paraded up and down. The boat began to move away and the children followed along the harbour path, cheering wildly, until it headed out to sea and left them in its wake.
Joe felt exhilarated now. The wind buffeted his face and the spray coated him with salt as
the boat sped across the water. He didn’t want to stop – he wanted it to head for the horizon and keep on going.
‘Don’t you wish we had a speedboat, Dad?’ he shouted above the noise of the engine.
‘It wouldn’t be much good in the middle of Surrey,’ his father shouted back.
They passed one island after another, and each time Joe expected them to stop, but it was nearly three hours later before they approached an island and the boat began to slow down.
‘There are more of those weird-looking boats,’ Joe said, pointing to the shore, where there were rows of very narrow colourful hulls, each with the same curious arrangement of poles on either side.
‘They’re called bancas,’ said Peter. ‘Those particular ones are fishing boats, I should think. The network of poles act as stabilisers so that they don’t capsize.’
As they drew closer to the landing stage, another crowd of children gathered, some of them pushing and shoving to be first to greet the strangers who were visiting their island.
‘It makes you feel like a Very Important Person, doesn’t it?’ said Binti.
‘I am a Very Important Person,’ said Peter, adopting a lofty air.
‘Only in your own head, Dad,’ scoffed Aesha.
The boat’s engine cut out completely and the captain allowed the boat to drift to its mooring. One of the crew threw a thick rope to a man on the landing stage, who quickly secured it round a mooring post and then beckoned to the passengers to disembark.
Joe looked beyond the crowd of children to glean some idea of the place where they would be spending the next few days before going to a bigger island called Bohol. It was very green, he thought, with lots of palm trees, and there were numerous small shacks dotted around. He wondered where his family would be staying and hoped it wouldn’t be somewhere too grand. He wanted to live like the village children, who were looking at him curiously as he stepped off the boat. Suddenly he felt rather conspicuous, and wished his mother hadn’t bought him a new pair of trainers.
‘Mabuhay,’ one young girl said to him, smiling brightly. ‘Welcome.’
Joe blushed. ‘Thank you,’ he replied.
Shadows under the Sea Page 1