The Sands of Shark Island

  Ben shuddered. “I didn’t get too close,” he said.

  “Just as well,” said Badger.

  Ben said nothing. It was best not to think too much about narrow escapes, he thought, and he decided to talk about something else. “You know that chart in Captain Tommy’s chest?” he began. “Why do you think he had it?”

  Badger shrugged. “I suppose he might have used it some time. Mike said that he sailed all around these parts.”

  “But why would he have a chart of that island in particular?” pressed Ben. “And there’s something else. When I was looking at it, I saw that someone had written something on the chart near the middle of the island: This is where they might be.”

  “Just that?” asked Badger.

  “Yes,” said Ben. “Who do you think they might be?”

  Badger had no idea. Then he thought of something. “Some of these old charts were used by pirates. They marked where they buried the stuff they stole from ships – chests of gold and so on.”

  Ben considered this for a moment. “That’s an interesting idea,” he said, “but I don’t think that’s what this means. If it were treasure, surely it would say This is where it might be, not they. They sounds like people rather than a thing.”

  “But it could be things – plural,” said Badger.

  Ben agreed. “I don’t think we’ll ever know,” he said at last. “And perhaps even Captain Tommy wouldn’t be able to tell us, even if he was the person who wrote on the map. People write notes to themselves and then forget them. Haven’t you done that, Badger? Haven’t you ever thought of something and then forgotten all about it?”

  Badger pretended to forget what they were talking about. “What was that you said?” he asked, and then laughed.

  “Right,” said the Captain to the whole school at muster the next morning. “We’re staying here for a day or two, so those of you who want to go ashore can go. A boat will be organised by Mr Rigger.”

  This brought an excited murmur. Being at sea meant that people had nothing to spend their pocket money on, so a trip to the small harbour town would be a chance to do some shopping. Badger planned to renew supplies of his favourite chocolate bar; Fee had run out of shampoo and needed to stock up with more; and Poppy needed new batteries for her flash-light. Everybody, it seemed, needed something. Even Cook, who prided himself on never running out of anything, thought it would be useful to get fresh eggs and dispatched one of his assistants to buy some.

  The friends all went ashore together. “I’ll be back for you in two hours,” Mr Rigger said cheerily as he set off from the quay to ferry across more students from the Tobermory.

  While Poppy, Tanya, Angela and Fee went off to buy shampoo and batteries, Ben, Badger, Thomas and Mike went to a store that looked as if it might sell the sort of chocolate that Badger liked. When they had done that, they found their way to a café that sold fresh coconuts. These had their tops sliced off and straws inserted so the sweet coconut water could be drunk straight from the fruit.

  It was delicious, and the boys had two each as they sat on stools in front of the counter. As they were drinking the coconut water, a man came in and made his way over.

  “Good morning Mr Thorn,” said the woman behind the counter. “Your usual coffee?”

  Mike’s eyes widened. “Did you hear that?” he whispered to Badger.

  “Hear what?” asked Badger.

  Mike nodded his head in the direction of the man’s back. “She called him Mr Thorn,” he said, his voice so low that even right next to him, Badger had difficulty in hearing.

  Thorn? he thought. Where have I heard that name before? And then he remembered: Bert Thorn was the pirate who had tried to board Captain Tommy’s ship and whose own ship had been rammed by Captain Macbeth.

  Keeping his voice as quiet as possible, Badger asked, “Is that him?’

  Mike wasn’t sure. “It could be,” he said. “Thorn is quite an unusual name around here.”

  The man did not take long to drink his coffee. Turning round, he wiped the line of milk foam off his moustache and made his way out, barely sparing the boys a glance. They had a chance to see his face, though, and they did not like what they saw. All the way down one cheek was a long scar that looked as if it had been made by the swipe of a knife, and his thick bushy eyebrows lent an angry look to what was already a rather frightening face.

  Once the stranger had gone, Badger had an idea. “I’m going to ask,” he muttered as he rose to his feet.

  “Ask what?” said Ben.

  “About him. About Mr Thorn.’

  “I’d like to pay for our coconuts,” Badger said to the woman behind the counter, a couple of banknotes at the ready.

  The woman smiled and added up the bill.

  “I was wondering about Mr Thorn,” said Badger, trying to sound as casual as possible. “That is Bert Thorn, isn’t it?”

  “That’s Bert,” said the woman. “Do you boys know him?”

  Badger shook his head. “Not personally,” he said.

  “He uses another name these days,” said the woman. “I still call him Mr Thorn but most people call him Mr Butterfield now. I think he …” She lowered her voice. “I think he might have been in a bit of trouble in the past, and that’s why he changed his name.”

  Badger said that he thought most people would have forgotten about that. “I heard something about that,” he said. “But it was a long time ago.”

  “Yes,” said the woman. “He’s just bought himself a new boat, the Barracuda, I think it’s called. It’s over there in the harbour – you might have seen it.”

  “I’ll look out for it,” said Badger.

  The woman smiled again. “In fact, he’s looking for crew. I know he wants a couple of cabin boys … Any of you fellows interested? I wouldn’t sign up myself, mind you,” she continued. “Not on Bert Thorn’s boat. I don’t like where he goes.”

  Badger was interested. “Oh? Where’s that?”

  The woman hesitated. She looked about her as if to make sure there was nobody else within earshot. “He goes out to a place called Shark Island,” she said. “Backwards and forwards, picking things up and bringing them back here.” She gave a shudder. “I don’t fancy going anywhere near Shark Island – not me.”

  Badger tried to sound casual. “Shark Island?” he said. “I don’t think I’ve heard of it. Where is it?’

  The woman did not answer immediately, and seemed to think carefully before responding. “You don’t want to know where Shark Island is. There’s been a lot of talk about that place.”

  Badger raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Such as?”

  The woman lowered her voice. “A few people have gone missing round here,” she said. “Like they’ve vanished into thin air. It’s said that they might have ended up on Shark Island.”

  Badger noticed that when she said this, Mike stiffened.

  The woman looked at her watch. “I must get on with my work,” she said.

  Badger nodded. “We have to get back to our ship. Thanks for the coconuts.”

  Once outside, the others gathered round Badger.

  “Well,” said Thomas, “what do you make of that?”

  The question was addressed to Badger, but it was Mike who answered.

  “I think we need to investigate,” he said. “The woman said that people had gone missing, didn’t she?”

  Badger nodded. He remembered the story Mike had told him about his father’s disappearance. Could it be that Bert Thorn and Shark Island were somehow connected with that?

  Mike had clearly made up his mind. “I want to speak to the Captain,” he said, “and tell him about everything we’ve found out today.”

  “All right,” said Badger. “Although let me warn you about one thing.”

  “What’s that?” asked Mike.

  “Don’t expect adults to see things quite the way we see them,” answered Badger. “Sometimes they do, but other times they don’t. So …”

  Ben complet
ed the sentence for him: “So don’t build up your hopes too much.”

  Mike listened, but he was not going to be put off. For the first time in three years he saw a glimmer of light in the dark mystery of his father’s disappearance. It was only a faint glimmer, but sometimes a glimmer can grow stronger and stronger until it becomes as clear and as strong as the midday sun …

  Shortly afterwards they were all back on board the Tobermory again. At the top of the ladder, Matron was helping people back on board, checking names off against a list.

  As she came to Mike’s name, she looked up from her list.

  “Oh yes, Wood. The Captain wanted to see you when you came back. Run along to his cabin right now, please.”

  Mike glanced at Badger. Was he in trouble again – and so soon after the last time? As they walked away, Mike turned to his friend. “I haven’t done anything,” he said.

  “Of course you haven’t,” Badger reassured him.

  “Then why does he want to see me?”

  Badger shrugged. “I don’t know. It could be anything. Perhaps a message from home – something like that. I shouldn’t worry, if I were you. I’ll wait for you outside the Captain’s cabin, though I’m sure it’s nothing important.”

  For a full fifteen minutes Mike remained inside the Captain’s cabin. When he came out, Badger knew immediately that something was seriously wrong. His friend was in tears.

  A false accusation

  Thomas, Badger, Ben, Poppy, Fee, Tanya, Angela … they were all there when Mike told them what had happened in the Captain’s cabin. And they were all shocked.

  “I had no idea why he wanted to see me,” Mike began. “But the moment I went in, I could tell that it was something bad.”

  “You can always tell,” said Angela. “If the Captain’s cross, his face looks like this.” She put on an expression that looked just the way the Captain’s did when he was angry.

  “So what happened, then?” pressed Poppy. “Did he shout at you?”

  Mike shook his head. “No, he didn’t shout. His voice was very quiet, as if he was trying to control it. He said … he said …”

  Mike faltered, and Badger stretched out to put an arm on his shoulder. “Tell us in your own good time,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

  Mike took a deep breath. “No, it’s all right,” he said. “I can talk about it.”

  They waited a few moments while he composed himself.

  “He said that there had been a theft,” Mike continued. “He had gone to look for something in Captain Tommy’s sea-chest and that when he opened it he saw that the sextant was missing, and the compass and chart had also gone.”

  Poppy gasped. “And he accused you of taking them?”

  Mike nodded. “Yes. He said that somebody had reported seeing me carrying something into my cabin just before we went ashore.”

  “But you were with me,” protested Badger.

  “Yes,” said Ben. “I saw the two of you together on deck. I can tell him that.”

  “Let Mike carry on,” said Poppy. “So what happened next?”

  “He told me that he went with Miss Worsfold to look in my cabin and they found the sextant and the compass in my locker.”

  “And the chart?” asked Ben.

  Mike explained that they had failed to find the chart and that the Captain had accused him of hiding it somewhere else. “But I hadn’t hidden anything,” said Mike, his voice faltering again.

  “Because you hadn’t stolen anything,” said Tanya. “How could you have hidden something you didn’t steal?”

  “Exactly!” said Poppy.

  None of them thought – even for one moment – that Mike would have stolen anything. None of them doubted that this was a complete set-up – that somebody else had taken the sextant and the compass and planted them in Mike’s locker.

  “I wonder who told the Captain they saw you,” mused Poppy.

  “Or who planted those things in your locker,” added Tanya.

  “No prizes for answering that,” said Badger. “Flubber. He shares with Mike. It would have been the easiest thing for him to put them there.”

  “And then go and report that he had seen Mike carrying something,” said Ben.

  Poppy looked at Mike. “Did you tell him that somebody else must have done all that?” she asked.

  Mike nodded.

  “And did he listen?” asked Thomas.

  “He listened,” said Mike. “But I don’t think he believed me. He just sat there looking at me while I tried to tell him I had nothing to do with it.”

  “And then?” prompted Badger.

  “Then I was going to tell him about us seeing Bert Thorn today, but before I could he said that I should go back to my cabin and that he would want to see me again tomorrow morning.”

  They broke up, as they had to get ready for dinner. But before he left to go down to his cabin, Badger spoke quietly to Mike. “I’ll go with you,” he said. “I’ll tell him you were with me. We’ll get Ben to confirm that he saw us. He can’t ignore the word of two people.”

  Mike thanked him, but from the way he looked, Badger could tell that his words had brought little comfort.

  “Try and cheer up,” Badger urged. “It’ll all be sorted out.”

  But Mike said nothing.

  The following morning at muster there was no sign of Mike. Mr Rigger was taking the roll, and called out Mike’s name three times, but there was no reply. Then, after waiting for a minute or two, he asked the whole school, “Anybody seen Mike Wood?”

  Nobody answered. Ben and Badger exchanged worried glances, but said nothing. Mike had been at dinner the previous evening, but they had not seen him since.

  Mr Rigger walked over to where Maximilian Flubber was standing. “Flubber,” he said. “You share with Wood, don’t you? Have you seen him this morning?”

  Flubber shook his head. “He wasn’t in his hammock when I woke up, sir. I thought he’d got up early.”

  “But you saw him last night?” asked Mr Rigger.

  “Yes, he was in his hammock at lights-out.”

  “Did he say anything?” asked Mr Rigger.

  “No,” said Flubber. “We don’t talk much.”

  Mr Rigger took a step back. Then he acted. “Search the ship!” he called out in as loud a voice as he could manage. “Everybody search your own deck. Look everywhere. Deck prefects, report back to me after you’ve completed the search.”

  If somebody goes missing at sea, a thorough search must be made immediately. If this brings no result, then the ship must be turned round and a much wider search carried out, in the hope that a bobbing head or a waving arm will be spotted somewhere in the water.

  The search took almost half an hour, and when it was finished the deck prefects went back up to report.

  “Anybody found anything?” asked Mr Rigger, sounding increasingly anxious.

  There was a unanimous shaking of heads. Mike, it seemed, was no longer on board.

  It was after Mr Rigger had gone down below to report to the Captain that Bartholomew Fitzhardy suddenly cried out: “One of the boats … Look! One of the boats is missing.”

  Bartholomew was right. One of the liberty boats on the starboard side had been let down into the water and was now no longer to be seen. The ropes by which it had been suspended were swinging loose from their blocks.

  This could mean only one thing: Mike was no longer on board the Tobermory.

  Badger looked thoughtful.

  “I’m going to go and speak to the Captain,” he said to Ben. “Are you going to come with me? You were there, after all.”

  “Where?” asked Ben.

  “In the café,” said Badger. “Because that’s the key to it all. It’s all about that, don’t you see?”

  Ben thought for a moment. “You mean ...”

  “Yes. He’ll have signed up as a cabin boy on Bert Thorn’s ship. I’m sure of it.”

  Ben caught his breath. If things had looked bad earlier on,
they looked a whole lot worse now. “I’ll come with you,” he said. “Let’s go right now.”

  The Captain was deep in discussion with Mr Rigger when Ben and Badger entered his cabin after knocking loudly. He looked at them with irritation. “What is it?” he asked crossly. “Can’t you see that Mr Rigger and I are busy? A boy is missing, you know …”

  “We think we know where he is,” blurted out Badger.

  “Yes,” said Ben, supporting his friend. “We were in a café, you see, and …”

  The Captain held up a hand. “Hold on,” he said. “Start from the beginning. We’re listening.”

  Ben let Badger do the talking and listened, nodding, as his friend described what had happened on shore. As he spoke, he saw the Captain look increasingly worried.

  “So you see,” said Badger when he had reached the end of his tale. “When Mike was wrongly accused of stealing, I think he decided to go off and sign up on Bert Thorn’s boat.”

  The Captain winced. “You say he was wrongly accused, but those items were found in his locker.”

  “He can’t have taken them, sir,” said Badger. “We were both with him all the time.”

  “What do you think, Mr Rigger?”

  Mr Rigger fingered his moustache. “I think these boys might be right,” he said. “And, frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if those things had been planted.”

  Captain Macbeth thought for a moment. “I must admit I felt very uneasy myself,” he said at last. He sighed. “Oh dear, I’m afraid I’ve done that boy a great injustice. We must find him.”

  “But how?” asked Mr Rigger.

  Badger felt that he could help. “I think we know where Bert Thorn sails to,” he said. “We were told that he goes to a place called Shark Island.”

  The Captain scratched his head. “Shark Island? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it. Have you, Mr Rigger?”

  Mr Rigger had not. “These islands are sometimes known by many different names,” he said. “But, no, I’ve never heard of any Shark Island.”

  Ben had an idea. “Couldn’t we follow Bert Thorn’s ship?” he asked.

  The Captain thought about this. “I doubt if he’d take kindly to that.’