Aunt Effie and the Island That Sank

by Jack Lasenby

  The policeman held the manager up by his feet and out dropped the proper penny. He’d cheated again! The policeman tossed with the proper penny. Aunt Effie won three out of three.

  “That’s it!” she said. “The Prime Minister’s debt is paid, and you owe us six billion dollars!”

  “I heard the bet,” said the policeman. “Free the Prime Minister! And you owe this good lady six billion dollars. Pay at once, or go to jail, go directly to jail, do not pass ʻGo’, do not collect two hundred dollars!” He shook his truncheon at the casino manager and clapped him in handcuffs.

  The crowd cheered. Up the top of the Casino Tower, we saw the Prime Minister lean out and start blowing up her Zeppelin with a bike pump.

  “That’ll take too long!” Aunt Effie yelled, and she sent the dogs to blow it up with their powerful mouths.

  The crowd towed us back down Queen Street with six billion dollars more than we’d started with. “We can afford a decent feed of fish and chips tonight!” said Aunt Effie.

  People took our old wooden tram rails and lifted the tram and trolleybus overhead wires clear of our masts. Unfortunately, they also souvenired those rails we’d pit-sawn out of rimu, used to shift the Margery Daw, and carried all the way down Lake Karapiro, along Lake Waikato, through the Dame Cath Tizard Canal, across the Manukau Sea, through the Tom Davies Canal, and up the Rangitoto Channel and the Waitemata Harbour to Auckland.

  We’d just got back into the water and were sailing off when there was a buzz overhead, and the Prime Minister’s Zeppelin flew down. The Prime Minister herself leaned out and tied its nose to the top of our mizzen-mast.

  Wearing running shoes on her enormous feet, she ran down the ratlines, leapt athletically to the deck, and thanked Aunt Effie, the dogs, and each one of us in ringing tones. “I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll never gamble again!” she said in her strong voice.

  “Hooray!” Daisy cried.

  Aunt Effie took the empty handbag off the Prime Minster’s right arm and filled it with diamonds. “That should get Waharoa running again,” she said.

  “I don’t suppose you’d like to bet me double or quits?” asked the Prime Minister.

  “I thought you’d learned your lesson!” said Daisy.

  The Prime Minister blushed and gave us all a ride in her Zeppelin – all of us except Daisy. She made the little ones Prime Minister for a day, and they fought over who was to wear her crown. Then they gave all the kids in the old land of Waharoa a day off school and made themselves sick eating ice-creams.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tears of Gratitude; Home on the Rotorua Express; the Rat Trap and the Bugaboo; Frittering Away the Treasure.

  With tears of gratitude in her eyes, the Prime Minister took off in her Zeppelin for Wellington. As she revved up the engines, she leaned out and yelled to Aunt Effie, “I’ve decided to rename Rangitoto after you!”

  Aunt Effie turned a somersault on the deck and, before Daisy could put her hands over our eyes, we all saw she was wearing green witch’s britches. We waved goodbye, sailed into St Marys Bay, and picked up our old mooring.

  “It’s not every day you have an island named after you,” said Aunt Effie. “Give us a diamond,” she told Colleen who was in charge of Wicked Nancy’s treasure. “We’re going to eat all the fish and chips we can!”

  As we rowed ashore, Greasy Mick was already waiting on the beach with a barrow-load of fish and chips wrapped in the Waharoa Herald. “Go back and get us another lot!” Aunt Effie ordered. “And when you’ve brung them, you’d better nick back and bring another.”

  “I think it’s brought, not brung,” said Daisy.

  “Brung not brought,” said Alwyn, as a seagull pooped on Daisy’s head.

  We slept for a couple of days after our big feed of fish and chips. Yawning, we worked the Margery Daw into her mud berth among the mangroves of the Kumeu River for winter. Masts struck, the rudder and centre-board swung on deck. Humpty and Dumpty coated in grease, and tampions bunged home in their barrels. The rigging flaked, and hawsers carried out and made fast to a big mangrove ahead and another astern.

  “She looks all ahoo,” Aunt Effie said. “The fresh water up here will kill all the weed on her bottom.”

  “Ooha! Ooha!” Alwyn hooted dismally.

  We sewed Humpty and Dumpty and the wheel into their winter tarpaulins of heavy green canvas. The Margery Daw looked like part of the mangroves and mud.

  As we turned the dinghy upside-down on the beach in Freemans Bay, a postman handed Jessie a letter from the Prime Minister. It said she and the rest of the little ones could have free chocolate fish and ice-creams for the rest of their lives. “I’ve promised Parliament I’ll never gamble at the Casino again,” wrote the Prime Minister. “And I gave my husband a good clip over the ear to remind him I said so!”

  “It’s time we caught the Rotorua Express home,” said Aunt Effie. “Winter coming on, we’ll have to start feeding out. We’d better get the hay inside out of the weather. And there’s the bottling to do. And the jam to make. And there’ll just be time to make chutney with the last of the green tomatoes.”

  “Caligula-Nero-Brutus-Kaiser-Genghis-Boris!” The dogs came swaggering. Each wore a thick leather belt round his waist, a cutlass stuck through one side, a pair of pistols in the other. Each gripped a dagger between his teeth.

  They hoisted our huge chests of treasure on their shoulders and loaded them on to the same horse-tram that had brought us to Freemans Bay. As we drove under the sanctuary sign, Lizzie said, “What about the school inspectors?”

  “The Prime Minister told them not to bother us!” said Aunt Effie. Trams, trolleybuses, and cars stopped to let us go by, people got out of our way, but nobody seemed to see us. As we crossed Queen Street, three school inspectors were putting handcuffs on a couple of kids playing the wag from school, but none of them came running at us with his butterfly net. Daisy was disappointed.

  We stood on the platform of the Auckland Railway Station. There was a whistle, Owhooooohoooowhooooo!, the steam, the roar and rush of the Rotorua Express. We jumped on board, Whooo-whooo! and we were waking up back home, sitting on the foot of Aunt Effie’s enormous bed. The dogs finished shoving the chests of treasure under the bed, jumped, and sprawled beside us.

  Wearing her heavy green canvas invalid’s pyjamas, Aunt Effie lay on a pile of pillows, a sou-wester tied under her chin, an oilskin coat around her shoulders, her feet on a stone hot-water bottle. “I’ve got a cold!” she shivered. “Stir up the fire!”

  None of us moved. We knew what a coward Aunt Effie was when she had a cold. And we also knew who lived under her bed, ready to grab us round the ankles when we jumped off.

  “My feet are like ice. Who’s going to refill my hot-water bottle?”

  None of us moved.

  “Somebody’s got to pick the late apples,” Aunt Effie said, “and the pears and quinces. Reach under the bed, Daisy, and hand me another bottle of Old Puckeroo.”

  “Watch out for the Bugaboo,” said Alwyn.

  “Nonsense!” said Daisy. She reached under the bed. “Ahhh!” she screamed. “Something’s got me by the hand!”

  “It’s just the rat trap,” said Aunt Effie. “I set it to keep burglars away from our treasure. I feel much better!” She sprang out of bed. “We’d better pick the fruit, and feed the stock, and get in a load of firewood for winter.”

  “Can we have a look at the treasure?” asked Lizzie.

  Aunt Effie frowned. “Just look at the clock!” she said. “You’ll be late for school if you don’t hurry!”

  “School!” Daisy stopped rubbing the red mark on her fingers and looked pleased. “I must press my uniform!” She ran downstairs, and we heard the clanking as she put the irons on the stove to heat.

  “You said we didn’t have to go to school! Because we got to Freemans Bay! It’s not fair!” the rest of us whined. And the little ones bawled, “The Prime Minister gave us a holiday.”

  “But you left Fr
eemans Bay,” said Aunt Effie. “You left the sanctuary. You were only safe till you got home. The moment you put a foot across the cattle-stop, there’ll be school inspectors waiting with butterfly nets and handcuffs.”

  “When we go to school,” asked Jessie. “Can we have a diamond?”

  “What ever for?”

  “To buy a chocolate fish from Mrs Doleman’s for playtime.”

  “Certainly not!” said Aunt Effie. “Haven’t I warned you about frittering away the treasure?”

  “Can we have a pie for lunch?” asked Jared.

  “Pies cost money,” said Aunt Effie. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, shut up! You know I can’t bear people boo-hooing at me. All right, we’ll see. But first we’ve got to bottle the fruit.”

  And somewhere in the distance, we heard the whistle of the Rotorua Express: Whooo-whooo!

  The End

  Daisy’s Third Glossary

  “Come off it, Daisy. You had a glossary in the first two books.”

  “You will use those difficult words,” Daisy told Aunt Effie. “It’s not surprising if the little ones can’t make sense of half of what you say.”

  “Watch out for that seagull, Daisy – oops! Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  abattoir the place where stock are slaughtered for the butchers’ shops

  acetylene old-fashioned headlamps dripped water on carbide making a gas called acetylene which burnt brightly “Isaac put carbide in my inkwell at school, and it bubbled and stunk worse than rotten eggs.” —Jane.

  ahoo okay, in its right place “Everything’s ahoo.” —Peter.

  backstay a supporting rope from the mast towards the stern “Something to prop your back against.” —David.

  beam the breadth of a boat

  bend on new canvas to attach new sails

  bitts a pair of heavy posts on the deck, for fastening cables and hawsers

  boa constrictor a huge snake that crushes and swallows you whole

  boom a spar along the bottom of a sail

  boot a lining fitted inside a torn tyre to protect the inner tube

  borborygm stomach rumbling “I got borborygms from eating too many greasies.” —Jared.

  bowsprit a spar that sticks out from the bows

  breaker a small cask of drinking water in a lifeboat

  bulwarks the sides of a ship above the deck

  camomile tea a herbal tea “Poisonous muck that pongs like rotten hay!” —Aunt Effie.

  camp oven a round iron pot for cooking over an open fire or in the embers

  capstan a vertical drum around which ropes are wound to kedge the ship and raise the anchor; the capstan is turned by the crew heaving on bars

  careen to tip a boat on its side for cleaning and painting the bottom

  centre-board a moveable keel that lifts and drops

  chain an old measurement for about twenty metres “You shake a chain and go ‘Whooo-oooh’ to make people think you’re a ghost.” —Lizzie.

  chaperon an older woman who sees that a young woman behaves herself “Like Daisy!” —Casey.

  cheroot an Indian cigar

  chronometer a very accurate ship’s clock

  climbing irons spiked footwear for climbing trees

  crank-handle a cranky looking handle for starting cars and lorries

  Crimean shirt blue or grey flannel shirt often worn loose

  cross-cut a long saw for cutting down trees

  crow’s-nest a lookout barrel or platform high on a mast “You can all take six weeks in the crow’s-nest!” —Aunt Effie.

  doldrums a place with no winds

  dry district a place with no pubs

  equator the great circle around the waist of the world “Banana Bob’s belt.” —Alwyn.

  fid a pointed tool used to separate strands in splicing rope

  Firth, J.C. a famous European settler of the Matamata district (see The Dictionary of New Zealand Biography; www. dnzb.govt.nz/dnzb/ )

  flake to coil rope flat on deck

  flukes an anchor’s sharp ends that dig in “Ann’s got fingernails like flukes.” —Jazz.

  forestay a supporting rope going forward from a mast

  freeboard the ship’s side between the water and the deck

  gun-tackle ropes and blocks (pulleys) for shifting guns and heavy things

  gybe (Americans, who don’t know any better, spell it jibe) the sail swinging across to the other side when running before the wind “We gybed, and I got clouted by the boom.” —Jared.

  Gypsy Day 1 June, the day when share-milkers shift to new farms

  halyard a rope for pulling up a sail or flag

  handsomely carefully “Hand me my Old Puckeroo. Handsomely, now!” —Aunt Effie.

  harden the sheet tighten the rope controlling a sail

  hawser a heavy rope

  headsails (heads’ls) sails ahead of the foremast, e.g., jib, staysail

  heave to to stop the ship

  hibernation sleeping all winter

  holystone a block of sandstone used to rub the deck white

  honky-tonk a tinny-sounding piano

  hove to past tense of heave to “We hove to outside the Auckland Casino.” —Casey.

  hundredweight an old weight measurement, about 51 kilograms

  inch an old length measurement, about 2.5 centimetres

  jib a small triangular headsail

  jigger-board a board jammed into a slot in the trunk that a bushman stands on to fell a tree

  jill to sail idly to and fro

  kahikatea, kike, white pine a very tall New Zealand tree “Kike’s a sinker. It won’t float.” —Jessie.

  kauri the biggest New Zealand tree

  kedge a light anchor carried out and set so the ship can be pulled (kedged) towards it

  Lane’s Emulsion a nasty medicine “It looks like condensed milk and tastes as if it’s gone bad.” — Jared.

  latitude and longitude lines across and up and down a map that show sailors where they are

  leading dog a responsible dog that leads and controls a mob of sheep or cattle “Peter would make a good leading dog.” —Aunt Effie.

  leeward the side of the ship sheltered from the wind

  logarithm a clever shortcut to doing arithmetic

  long acre the grass along the side of a road “A famous firm of publishers in Dunedin.” —Jack.

  loopholes a slit or hole in the wall for firing arrows, spears, and guns through “Every house should have plenty of loopholes.” —Aunt Effie.

  mahogany beautiful red-brown tropical hardwood “Mahogany is what my knee does when it hurts.” — Jazz.

  mainsheet the rope controlling the boom and mainsail

  mangrove a tree that seems to grow out of the water at high tide

  maul a bushman’s heavy hammer for driving wedges

  mizzen the sail on the mizzen-mast

  mizzen-mast the mast nearest the stern

  motor spirits petrol

  Old Puckeroo Aunt Effie’s favourite tonic “Waipiro…” — Daisy.

  Parrish’s Chemical Food a nasty medicine “It tastes like chewing old railway lines.” —Jared. “And it leaves your teeth all furry.” —Casey.

  perdition hell

  pilot light the little light that stays on for starting the burner on a steam car

  pit-saw a long saw used for sawing into planks a log pulled over a pit

  pohutukawa the magnificent red-flowered New Zealand coastal tree with the splendid botanical name: metrosideros excelsa “Say it aloud!” —Jessie.

  poley a polled or hornless cattle-beast

  ponga a New Zealand tree fern

  port the left side of a ship looking ahead “Aunt Effie likes a dollop of port in her Old Puckeroo.” —Lizzie.

  pound an old weight measurement of about half a kilogram

  quoin a wedge for raising and lowering the barrel when aiming a cannon

  ratlines (pronounced rattlins) a ladder of ropes tied between the s
hrouds

  rimu, red pine a tall, beautiful, New Zealand tree “Droopy as a rimu.” —Jared.

  reaching sailing with the wind abeam, that is, at right angles to the scow “Aunt Effie says it’s important to know the difference between reaching and retching.” — Lizzie.

  ringbolt a bolt with a ring through its head

  royal topgallant mast the royal is the very high mast above the topgallant mast which is above the topmast which is above the mainmast

  running rigging ship’s ropes such as halyards and sheets which run through eyes and blocks when pulled

  Sargasso Sea a stagnant sea of weed and confusion

  sanctuary a safe place “A dreadful place where you can’t go to school.” —Daisy.

  scow flat-bottomed sailing vessels built in New Zealand for the coastal trade from 1873 to the 1920s “If we’d stuck to scows, we wouldn’t need half the roads in New Zealand!” —Aunt Effie.

  scuppers openings in the bulwarks that let water run off the deck “We scuppered that Rangi and his red schooner!” —Casey.

  scurvy what you get when you don’t eat enough fruit and vegies “And it serves you right!” —Daisy.

  send down to lower the masts

  sextant an instrument which helps you find latitude and longitude, so telling you where you are on the map

  shammy a car polishing cloth made from chamois leather

  share-milker somebody who works another’s dairy farm for a share of the profits

  shear-legs a tripod of three legs joined at the top for raising and lowering heavy things

  sheet a rope controlling a sail

  sinker a tree such as kahikatea which doesn’t float

  sloven the jagged splintered part of the stump left when a tree is felled

  slow-match a slow wick or match which burns slowly without a flame, used for firing cannons

  smoke-oh morning and afternoon tea

  snarlers sausages

  splice the main brace the command to issue a special ration of rum

  standing rigging fixed ship’s ropes such as stays and shrouds