Chapter 4 Noah's Ark
As the first light of dawn touched the surface of the sea, Gran looked towards the horizon then said in a worried voice, "I've lost my glasses and I can't see properly without them. Everything is blurry."
"Look! You’ve got a bad cut on your leg as well," said Noah. "It's good that we've got a first aid kit."
"Your grandfather was always careful about safety, especially when he went fishing. -- -- -- Perhaps you can be my eyes, Noah?"
"Of course," said Noah, "and I can fix up your leg too."
In double quick time Noah dabbed yellow antiseptic in and around the jagged cut and pulled the edges together using sticking plaster.
"You've done an excellent job. Thank you, Noah."
After the fear of the tsunami and vomiting up last night's meal, Noah's stomach growled with hunger. Therefore, when his grandmother broke open the seal of the yellow plastic box containing emergency rations, and began to sort through the provisions, Noah asked eagerly, "What will we have for breakfast, Gran?"
"Perhaps we can share a tin of peaches, and make a drink using a little of this chocolate, some condensed milk and water from the bottle."
"We could start with a chocolate bar," suggested Noah hopefully.
"And why not," responded Gran. "I think we deserve lots of chocolate!"
As Noah bit into the rich creamy chocolate bar, his eyes locked onto a strange moving object to the south of the dinghy.
"Something is swimming towards us!"
"I can't see anything," said Gran in a low voice. "What does it look like?"
"It's a light colour -- -- --. I think it's got legs -- -- --. It’s got a body and a head -- -- --. Maybe it's a dog? -- -- -- It is a dog!"
"Perhaps it's one of Peggy Wilson's golden retrievers. They’re good strong swimmers."
"Here, boy," called Noah, "we'll save you -- -- --. He’s coming towards us, Gran! Can you see him now?"
"I can see the blurry shape of him," replied Gran, peering intently into the morning mist. "But we'll have to be careful lifting him into the boat. We don't want to upturn the dinghy and end up swimming ourselves."
"He's definitely a golden retriever," exclaimed Noah, as he helped the dog scramble up into the boat. "But he’s exhausted. And look, his feathery coat’s full of tiny wriggly sea creatures, and pieces of seaweed."
Gran stroked the dog's soft, silky head then felt for his collar and tag. As she held up the blue disc, she asked, "Can you read what it says?"
"It's got a long number and also a name. It says A16489 Prince Wilson."
"That'll be right, said Gran, excitedly, looking into the dog’s kind, dark eyes, "Prince is a lovely dog. He’s famous on the island, because he always goes surfing with Matt -- -- --. Not many dogs would have surfed a tsunami and survived to tell the tale!"
Gran’s face looked worried as she continued, "But I wonder if Peggy and Matt are okay -- -- --. Their house is even closer to the sea than mine."
Within one minute Prince collapsed on the floor, panting heavily and shivering. "Poor dog," said Gran softly, "he must have been swimming all night. When he’s rested for a while, you can give him a drink of fresh water and one of these biscuits."
A sudden wind sprang up, followed by heavy rain. Choppy waves smacked against the wooden dinghy. Water, from the rain and the sea, began to slosh around in the bottom of the boat.
Snatching up a small red bucket, Noah exclaimed, "I'll bale out the water, otherwise we’ll all be swimming!"
Prince wagged his tail, which splashed water onto Gran's face. "It’s lucky," she said, "that golden retrievers have a double coat. Otherwise Prince would have died of cold.
"Look," continued Gran, "see how Prince's fur is wet on the outside, yet has a layer of dense, dry fur next to his skin, just like the fluffy down of a moon bird chick. It’s kept him warm. He’s a true water dog."
Out in the middle of the windswept ocean, a grey pigeon appeared from nowhere.
"Coo, coo," she said, in an exhausted voice as she circled the boat. Noah held out his arms and the one-legged bird landed, panting quietly. Cupping his hands gently around the pigeon’s plump body, Noah felt her heart beating, felt the warmth and softness of her glossy feathers and the strength of her wings.
Looking into the bird's bright eyes, Noah said, "I’m going to call you Coo -- -- --. But what happened to your other leg? Did a shark bite it off?"
"During the war," said Gran, "soldiers used pigeons to carry important messages, which they attached to the pigeon’s leg. When Coo is rested, perhaps she'll lead us towards land."
But the subject of pigeons came to a rapid halt as Noah pointed towards a raft of floating branches and exclaimed, "Look, Gran, over there! I can see something small balancing amongst the leaves."
"Mam, mam, mam," the creature called in a high-pitched voice.
"Let’s row over towards the raft," suggested Gran, "and have a look. But I'm wondering -- -- --."
Within minutes, the dinghy was alongside the uprooted tree trunk and its tangle of branches and leaves.
"It's one of Cook's prize kids," said Gran softly. "Poor little thing, she’s only a baby.
"Mrs Cook calls this one Star," continued Gran, pointing towards the large white star on the goat’s chest. "Her mother must have drowned in the tsunami."
Star was so afraid that she flew her ears like an aeroplane and called out frantically. When the boat was close enough, however, Noah reached out and lifted the trembling kid to the safety of his arms. The kid bleated and sobbed with relief as she pressed herself into Noah's windcheater.
"Look, Gran! Star’s leg is cut, just like yours," said Noah, pointing towards three cuts on Star’s front leg. "She must have crashed against something hard." Noah took a long, white bandage from his grandfather's first aid kit and wrapped the bandage firmly around Star’s leg.
While Noah fixed the goat's leg, Gran stroked Star’s long floppy ears, murmuring softly, "Your ears are as delicate and velvety as a moth, and as silver as a moonbeam."
Star became so relaxed that she started chewing Gran's jacket. "Goats are naughty," said Gran, with a smile, "and they'll eat anything -- underpants, shoe laces, socks, toilet paper, newspapers -- -- --."
Since Noah was unable to row the dinghy and cuddle the kid at the same time, he lowered Star gently to the floor, next to Prince, then stood back as they sniffed one another. Soon the baby goat folded up its hooves and snuggled close to the dog. Prince wagged his tail, licked Star’s bottom and gave a huge sigh.
Star came to a conclusion: Prince would be her new mother, she’d follow the dog wherever he went.
Floating on the surface of the sea, the boat made its way slowly through a swirling, sea fog. Noah was kept busy looking after all the animals, as well as being his grandmother's eyes.
Feeding everyone -- using the boat’s emergency rations -- was the first job. Prince ate sardines from a tin. Coo pecked up pieces of crumbed biscuit from Noah's hand. Gran made up a sweet milk drink for Star, using condensed milk and water, and then fed the kid from a cup.
Gran and Noah ate baked beans, dried apricots and sultanas, and then had a drink of water. There wasn't much food or water on board the boat, but there was enough for everyone. If they were careful.
Immediately after feeding the animals, Noah needed to clean up their droppings. Neither the goat kid nor the pigeon were toilet trained! Noah tossed the droppings overboard where they were swept away in a strong current.
It was crowded in the dinghy and everyone was growing restless. Prince whined softly and held out his paw to Noah. Coo fluffed up her feathers and made strange squeaky coos. Star butted Noah's leg, nibbled his jeans then called out, "Mam, mam, mam," to attract Gran's attention as well.
As daylight faded, a smattering of stars glowed softly in the night sky and the moon rose. Mysterious dark ocean currents swirled around the dinghy. Everyone was exhausted.
It was time to g
et some rest.