The Sands of Shark Island

  “Now we’ll pick up the surfboard and the kite,” said Mike. “Then we can get back to the beach.”

  Mike proved to be a real expert. He soon had the surfboard in the boat, and after that it was only a matter of a minute or two before he had retrieved the kite.

  Badger was exhausted.

  “Don’t try to talk,” said Mike. “Just get your breath back. You’ll be fine.”

  Mike turned the boat round and headed at full speed for the reef, now far in front of them.

  “It was a good thing I was out here fishing,” he said. “Otherwise you could have been half way to Cuba by now.”

  Badger ignored the advice not to talk. “You saved my life,” he said.

  Mike laughed. “I’m sure that somebody else would have rescued you.”

  “No,” said Badger. “There’s nobody else around – look. You really did save my life.”

  The other boy shrugged. “That’s what happens at sea,” he said. “If I saved your life, then somebody will probably save mine one of these days. We look after one another at sea, don’t we?”

  They did not take long to arrive at the beach.

  “Hello, Badger,” said Miss Worsfold, noticing that he looked shaken. “Is everything all right?”

  Badger was about to tell her what had happened when Mike replied. “It’s all fine, Miss,” he said. “I was out there and we decided to come back in together.” There was no mention of the danger that Badger had been in. But what Mike had said was, strictly speaking, true – he had been out there and yes, they had decided to come back in together.

  Badger looked at his new friend with double gratitude. Not only had Mike saved his life, but he had saved him from looking foolish in front of everybody.

  “If you want to go back to the Tobermory now,” Miss Worsfold said to Badger, “then perhaps your friend will take you in his boat. You’re such a natural kitesurfer there’s no point in your staying for the rest of the lesson.”

  Badger thought this was a good idea. “And could I show Mike round the ship?” he said.

  “I don’t see why not,” said Miss Worsfold. “And see if Cook can rustle up a doughnut or two for you. You’ve earned it with all that energetic activity.”

  The two boys left in Mike’s boat.

  “Thanks again,” said Badger as they drew away from the beach. “Thanks for making me not look stupid in front of everybody.”

  Mike said nothing, but he smiled. He liked Badger. He liked what he had seen of Miss Worsfold. He liked everything about the Tobermory. Oh, if only … He stopped himself. There was no point in thinking about things that could never be. You have to live your life in the here and now, making do with what you have. You can dream, of course, but you have to remember that dreams are nothing more than that.

  “Can we go back to my place first?” he asked Badger. “These fish have to go in the freezer.”

  He pointed to a box of fish – the day’s catch – on the floor of the boat. In the excitement of the rescue, Badger had not seen it.

  “Of course,” said Badger. “I’ll help you.”

  Mike grinned at him. “Smelly work,” he warned.

  “I don’t mind,” said Badger. He would do anything for the boy who had just saved his life.

  They beached Mike’s boat on the strip of sand directly outside the Wood family house. Badger helped to drag it up so that it would be out of the reach of the high tide, and watched as Mike secured it to the trunk of a fallen palm tree. Then Badger carried the oars while Mike lugged the fish box up the path that led to the house.

  Mike’s mother was at the door to greet them. She was a friendly woman whose face showed lines brought about by hard work and the burden of a thousand cares. Standing behind her was Mike’s sister, who looked as if she was a year or two younger than her brother.

  “This is my mother,” said Mike. “And this is my sister, Ellie.”

  “Well, well,” said Mike’s mother as she shook hands with Badger. “You must be off that big sailing ship that’s come in. Welcome to our house, young man.”

  Mike led Badger into the kitchen, where he emptied the fish box into a large white basin. They had been followed in by his mother, who inspected the fish, turning them over to check that they were in good condition.

  “A nice catch,” said Mrs Wood. “I’ll clean them for the freezer. You go and chat to your friend. Give him a soda from the fridge.”

  Mike took Badger to his room. “This is where I sleep,” he said. “That’s my wardrobe over there and that’s my table.”

  Badger noticed a stamp album on the table, with a pile of unsorted old stamps beside it.

  “That’s my hobby,” said Mike. “I buy old stamps by the hundred – they cost hardly anything. Then I sort them out and stick them in the album.”

  Badger asked whether he could look at the album. Opening it at random, he flicked through pages filled with old stamps, filed away under the name of the country that had issued them: Uruguay, Vanuatu, Venezuela, Virgin Islands …

  Badger turned to Mike. “All those places,” he said. “Have you been to any of them?”

  Mike shook his head. “I’ve never been anywhere. I hope one day I will get to go somewhere – who knows?”

  Mike closed the album. “Have you always fished?”

  “Yes,” said Mike. “My dad was a fisherman too, and my granddad.”

  Badger noticed Mike had said was and wondered what had happened to his father, but did not want to ask directly. Mike, though, guessed what he was thinking.

  “My dad’s still alive,” he said. “Or at least I hope he is.”

  Badger was puzzled. “How come you don’t know for sure?”

  Mike gestured to a chair and asked Badger to sit down. “I’ll tell you the whole story,” he said. “It begins when I was about ten, I suppose, which is three years ago. I’m thirteen now.”

  “Me too,” said Badger, adding, “Just.”

  Mike started his story. “My dad had a good boat – one that could go far out to sea where the larger fish are – marlin, tuna and so on. I used to go out with him sometimes, but most of the time he went with a friend, a man called Sammy Williams. Well, once they decided to go all the way down to Dominica – that’s an island south of us, about eighty miles away. They had heard there were big tuna down there and they thought they’d try their luck.

  “Well, they caught plenty of fish and put them on ice and then anchored in a bay near a place called Indian River. They were planning to spend the night there before heading back up to Antigua. Uncle Sammy – I’ve always called him that – stayed on the boat that evening while my dad went to have a beer at one of the harbour bars. He never came back. Uncle Sammy waited and waited for him, and when there was no sign of him the next morning he went ashore to ask around. There were only two bars nearby and he asked in both of them. He found out my dad had been in one of them, and that he had gone off with two men. That was the last anyone saw of him.”

  “So he just disappeared?”

  “Yes. Completely disappeared. Uncle Sammy went to the police and reported him missing. They said they’d look for him, but they had no idea what might have happened. They suggested that he should go the hospital to see if he had been brought in injured. He did that, but again there was no sign of my dad.

  “Uncle Sammy sold the tuna in Dominica so he could stay and search further. He ended up staying two weeks, but found nothing – not a single trace. It was as if he had vanished into thin air.”

  Badger shook his head. “What a horrible thing,” he said.

  “Yes. Nobody knew what to think and we were all very upset. We wondered whether he had had some terrible accident, or had even fallen into the water and drowned on his way back from the bar. But then we heard something that made us think differently. Apparently two other people had disappeared in very similar circumstances around the same time there. Nobody ever found out what had happened to them.”

  Badger was silent f
or a while. He couldn’t imagine how awful it must be for someone to go missing in such circumstances. One of the hardest things must be simply not to know; you must think about it every single day, wondering what had happened, wondering whether you still had a father.

  Mike stood up. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t go on about it. Other people aren’t all that interested. They have their own problems to worry about.”

  “No,” said Badger. “I’m sorry that it’s such a sad story, but I’m glad you told me.”

  “Oh well,” said Mike, trying to look more cheerful. “You said you’d show me the Tobermory. I’m ready now – can we go?”

  Badger said goodbye to Mike’s mother and thanked her for the soda. Then the two boys pushed the boat out into the waves once more and set off for the ship on the other side of the bay. Badger was silent all the way across – he was thinking of what it would be like to be Mike.

  Mike joins up

  Unknown to Badger, somebody had been watching earlier as he surfed through the gap in the reef out into the open sea. It had not been Miss Worsfold or anybody else on the beach – they were too busy with their class to pay attention to what was going on elsewhere. But Captain Macbeth had not been too busy. He was standing on the deck of the Tobermory, looking through his binoculars at the ships anchored on the other side of the bay. He was not looking for anything in particular – sailors are often just interested in how other ships are rigged or the state of their paintwork, or some such detail. But as he scanned the bay, he noticed Badger on his surfboard and watched him for a few moments to see how he was getting on.

  The Captain was impressed with Badger’s speed and with his ability to keep the kite up high and full of wind. But then, as he saw him clear the reef, his admiration suddenly turned to concern. He wondered how Badger was going to cope with the much bigger waves, and within seconds he realised that even if Badger was not yet in serious trouble, he soon would be. And that meant a rescue mission.

  But just as he was about to shout out an order to prepare the Tobermory’s high-powered rescue boat he noticed that help was already at hand in the form of a small boat racing through the water towards Badger. Captain Macbeth smiled as he saw how quickly and efficiently the rescue was carried out, though even with his binoculars, he was too far away to see exactly who it was who had come to Badger’s aid.

  “Whoever it is knows what they’re doing,” he muttered to himself. It was easy for somebody like the Captain, with his years of experience, to spot people who really knew the sea.

  So when Mike tied up his boat and climbed up the ladder with Badger, Captain Macbeth realised it must have been Mike who had come to Badger’s rescue. He called the two boys across to speak to him.

  “That’s the Captain,” Badger whispered to Mike. “He wants to speak to us.”

  Mike looked concerned. “Maybe I shouldn’t be here,” he said. “I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

  “I won’t get into trouble,” said Badger. “We’re allowed to show people round when we’re at anchor.”

  They walked towards to the stern, where the Captain was standing. Captain Macbeth broke into a broad smile. “Oh, it’s you,” he said, addressing Mike. “You’re the boy who took us over to see old Tommy.”

  “I was hoping to show Mike the ship,” said Badger. “Is that all right, sir?”

  The Captain nodded. “Of course it’s all right, Tomkins, especially after your kitesurfing adventure.”

  Badger looked surprised. “You saw me …” he began.

  The Captain cut him short. “I was watching,” he said, gesturing to the binoculars hung round his neck. “I saw you go shooting out through the reef. And I was just about to launch the rescue boat when I saw Mike here head over towards you.”

  “I didn’t know it would be so rough out there,” said Badger, looking rather ashamed.

  “Well, you’ve learned a lesson,” said the Captain. “And I’m sure you won’t do that again in a hurry.”

  Badger nodded. “I won’t, Captain. I promise I won’t.”

  The Captain made it clear that he was not angry – far from it, in fact. He was also impressed with what Mike had done and wanted to thank him.

  “Your quick action saved the day,” he said to Mike. “I could tell that you knew what you were doing.”

  Mike looked away modestly.

  But the Captain was not going to leave it at that. “I shall write a note to Captain Tommy and tell him about it,” he said. “He’ll be mighty proud of you, I imagine.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Mike. “You don’t need to do that, but thank you anyway.”

  After the Captain had given them a nod to show that they were dismissed, Badger took his friend off to climb up to the crow’s nest. This was the small platform, right up at the top of the main mast, where the ship’s lookout would perch and look far out over the sea in every direction.

  Mike was a quick climber, and he also had a head for heights.

  “I sometimes feel a bit dizzy up here,” confessed Badger. “I look down and see how far it is to the deck below, and then I begin to think about what would happen if I slipped or let go.”

  “Don’t,” said Mike with a smile. “Never think of that. Never look down.”

  “I know,” said Badger. “But it’s hard.”

  They made their way back down to the deck, and Badger then took Mike to show him his cabin.

  “This is where I sleep,” he said. “This is my hammock over here, and that one over there is my friend Ben’s.”

  “Where’s he now?” asked Mike.

  “He’s doing his activity,” said Badger. “Everybody has to do an activity during the afternoon. Ben’s gone snorkelling.”

  Mike liked the word activity. “I’d like to have an activity,” he said.

  “But you’ve got one,” said Badger. “Fishing.”

  “That’s different,” said Mike. “That’s work.”

  As Mike looked around the cabin, Badger noticed that his expression had changed. When they had first come on board, Mike had looked excited and full of anticipation. Now he felt that his new friend was feeling sad.

  ‘Are you okay?” he asked.

  Mike nodded. “I’m fine,” he said. “It’s just … it’s just …” He faltered. It seemed that he was having difficulty finding the right words for his feelings.

  Badger waited. “Have you ever slept in a hammock?” he asked.

  Mike shook his head. “It looks great,” he said. “I’d like to try it one day.’

  Badger opened the locker beside his bed. “I’ve got some chocolate,” he said. “Would you like some?”

  Mike took a couple of squares from the bar offered to him before passing it back to Badger, who also helped himself before wrapping it up again and replacing it in the locker.

  And it was while he was doing this that the idea came to him. It was one of those ideas that arrives uninvited, one of those ideas so unexpected that it stops you in your tracks.

  Of course what happens next is that you think: impossible. Then after that you begin to list the reasons why the idea will not work. And then, as often as not, you sigh and say to yourself, It would have been such a wonderful thing to do – if only I had been able to do it. And then you go back to what you were thinking about before – and that is the end of your brilliant idea. Except sometimes …

  What Badger did next was to surprise him when he thought about it later.

  “Do you mind if I leave you here for a few minutes?” he said. “I’ve got to go and see Mr Rigger.”

  Mike assured him that he did not mind. There was an old copy of a sailing magazine that Badger had on his shelf and he could leaf through that while he was waiting. “Take your time,” said Mike. “I’ll be all right.”

  Badger left the cabin and made his way along the passageway. The ship seemed deserted, with everybody busy with their afternoon activities, but Badger had an idea that he would find Mr Rigger in the staf
froom. He knew this was where Mr Rigger liked to spend his spare time reading books about the famous sailor Horatio Hornblower. And sure enough, when he entered the staffroom, there was Mr Rigger, sprawled out on a chair, a Hornblower book in his hands.

  “It’s all very exciting,” said Mr Rigger, looking up from his book. “Hornblower is in a real spot, I can tell you.”

  Badger cleared his throat. “I need my phone,” he said.

  Now it was a very strict rule that at the beginning of each trip all phones were handed over to Mr Rigger to be locked away for the duration of the voyage. “You don’t need to talk to people all the time,” the Captain had explained many times before. “And the whole point about going off to sea is to develop self-reliance. You can’t be self-reliant if you’re able to dial a number and ask somebody at the other end what to do, or check the internet.”

  There was another reason, and the Captain explained that too. “Safety,” he had said. “If you’re talking on the phone, you can’t do your job, and accidents can happen. We almost had a terrible disaster before we introduced this rule.” Everybody knew what he was talking about: on one occasion a member of the school had almost landed the ship on the rocks because he had been talking on his phone while he was at the helm.

  It was a hard rule for some, as there were people who were addicted to their phones, but even they began to realise how much better life could be if they were not on the phone or checking their messages all the time.

  “Your phone?” said Mr Rigger, his moustache beginning to bristle. “You know we can only allow that in very special circumstances.”

  Badger said that he thought these might be just such circumstances.

  “But why?” asked Mr Rigger. “You can’t just say this is a special case – you have to tell me why.”

  Badger was ready to take the teacher into to his confidence. He liked Mr Rigger – everybody did – and knew he could trust him. Taking a deep breath, he began to tell Mr Rigger about Mike rescuing him. “So he saved my life,” he said at the end.