Kitabı oku: «Michael’s Ark», sayfa 2

Chapter 5. Captain Wolf

The ship was ready. It had masts, yardarms³⁰, sails and two anchors made out of shoehorns. Mike fitted out two cabins inside the sofa – crew quarters and the galley. Then he built a captain’s bridge and set up the helm there, made from the front wheel of his scooter, which he managed to unscrew.

Food and water were loaded aboard: a jerry can, pots and pans, a tea kettle, salt, sugar, macaroni and bags of rice and flour. Mike brought in lots of canned food – potted meat from his mother’s supplies – a whole twenty cans. He brought along a Swiss Army knife, a compass, matches, a flashlight and a box of batteries too. It would be enough for a long time.

But Mike paid particular attention to weapons. To defend the ship, he requisitioned two cannons from his set of tin soldiers, three antique pistols, a short sword, a sabre, a dagger and a hammer for pounding meat.

All that remained was dividing responsibilities on the ship and setting sail.

“I’ll be the captain!” Mike said, and after thinking about it, added “Does anybody else want to be captain?”

Moosie clearly didn’t want to be. However, once more Camel complicated matters.

“My young friend,” Dreamer said, “The responsibilities of captain of a seagoing vessel require specialized knowledge and the mastery of specific skills. Allow me to inquire – have you ever studied geography, piloting or navigation, either of the terrestrial or celestial variety?³¹ Do you know how to take coordinates from the sun and stars on the high seas using a sextant and an astrolabe?³² Do you know how to tack³³ and how to raise sails? How to…”

“Stop, enough!” Mike answered, “I don’t know how to do any of that yet. Do you?”

“Well,” Camel said, “I have a certain amount of theoretical knowledge. But I have no practical experience. Hence, I would not be in a position to take such a responsibility upon myself.”

“So you can’t!” concluded Mike. “So what are we going to do? Maybe we won’t go on a cruise around the world after all.”

“My young friend,” Dreamer answered, “first of all, I would advise you to find an experienced captain to take command of the vessel.”

Mike said nothing. The idea of finding another commander was clearly not to his liking. But finally he said:

“But where will we find a captain like that?”

“I have already given the matter some thought and I have located suitable material,” Camel replied.

“Material? What do you mean? You want to make a captain?” Mike said, surprised.

“No, no,” Creamer repeated, “I mean somebody that could be captain, if nobody has any objections.”

“And where is this captain of yours?” Mike asked. “We’ve got no captains here in the house!”

“You are sorely mistaken, my young friend!” Camel replied. “In my investigations of our surroundings, I came across a cupboard. Upon examining its contents, I encountered someone that fully satisfies the requirements of our search.”

“Stop showing off how smart you are!” Mike said angrily. “Just tell me – who did you find?”

Dreamer stuck out his lower lip and said nothing. Then he chewed on some invisible saksaul and continued:

“I am not showing off, as you put it, my young friend, I am simply laying out the facts of the situation. If you object…”

Mike started getting angry again, but all of a sudden Moosie spoke up.

“Mike,” Moosie said in a frightened voice, “I think I know who he found! But if it’s HIM, then I’m not sailing with you at all!”

“So who is he?” Mike asked.

Moosie hid himself down in the berthing behind the sofa pillow, stuck out his nose and whispered:

“He’s a WOLF!”

“Who?” Mike asked again. “A Wolf?”

“Yes, it’s a wolf,” Dreamer said, “an old Sea Wolf. Just the person we all need now.”

“Not me! I don’t need a wolf,” Moosie cried, “I don’t want a wolf, I don’t like wolves, I’m afraid of wolves, I’m little white Moosie and the wolf will eat me all up!”

“Calm down!” Mike said. “I remember, he’s an old wolf that lives in the cupboard. You’re the one who asked me to stick the wolf in the cupboard, Moosie.”

“He would have eaten me a long time ago, because I’m little white Moosie!” Moosie snivelled.

“Don’t be silly,” Mike said. “Wolves are dangerous only when they’re hungry. But our wolf is never dangerous, because he’s a sea wolf. And sea wolves don’t eat land moose. I’ll introduce you two now.”

Mike went out to the hallway. The cupboard door creaked, a box grated, and then a hoarse, raspy growl was heard:

“Ten thousand sharks and five points to port! I’ve been sniffing mothballs³⁴ enough for a hundred thousand years to go. Now all moths will die when they hear my name.”

Mike brought Wolf into the room. He was wearing a short green frock coat with shiny buttons and a white sash over his shoulder with a sword hanging from it. Wolf had a black cocked hat on his head and a big curved calabash pipe in his left hand.

When he saw the ship, Wolf cried in a hoarse voice:

“I’ll be deep sixed! What manner of old hulk is that? I swear by Davy Jones³⁵ that she’ll sink before she leaves the harbour!”

“Allow me to observe, my dear sir,” said Camel, “that such expressions are inadmissible in polite society. This ship was built by ourselves, the genial crew. In making such rude observations, you offend all here.”

Wolf opened his muzzle, then closed it, then opened it again and said “eeeeh”. But since words didn’t come to him, he had to close it again. Mike said, helping Wolf out:

“Don’t swear, Wolf, just tell us what we need to do!”

In a half hour, the ship took on a completely new look. The masts changed places. The high one became the main mast and was moved astern, while the low one became the foremast and was moved forward. The helm was moved back, closer to the stern. White ropes, which Wolf called sheets, braces and lines³⁶, were run from the sails. And the anchor was fastened to a real anchor chain made from Mike’s father’s watch chain.

Wolf carefully inspected the ship, looking at every corner. He sucked on his pipe and growled “Double down on that snatch block!³⁷” It looked as if the inspection would wrap up peacefully. But then Wolf opened up the pillow hatch, looked in the hold, pulled his pipe from his mouth and rumbled “Shiver me timbers! What’s a great big horned beast doing on my ship?”

Terrified, Moosie stuck his nose out from the hold, and whispered “I’m not a beast, I’m Moosie”.

Wolf barked:

“Who? Squids in me bilge! Speak up, mate! I can’t hear you!”

“Moose, I’m a m-m-moose,” Moosie murmured almost inaudibly.

Wolf dropped his pipe from his paw, rolled his eyes and guffawed:

“A moose? You’re a moose? Well, skewer me with a swordfish! This is a moose? Ha ha ha!”

“What do you find so humorous about our horned friend?” Camel stepped up on Moosie’s behalf. “He’s a typical example of a young moose. What is it about him that you find unsatisfactory?”

But Wolf couldn’t answer Camel because he was still laughing. Finally he got tired and dropped on the deck. “And what manner of beast are you to be sailing the high seas?”

“I’m little white Moosie,” Moosie said, shivering from fright.

Stick a horn on me nose and call me a narwhal! I know what a REAL moose looks like. Before I went to sea, I lived with my pack in the forest. I saw moose all the time. They were big and brave, and dangerous in a fight! Even we wolves respected them. But this beast looks more like a horned rabbit than any moose I ever saw!”

Moosie’s horns drooped. “I’m little white Moosie”, he repeated, barely audible.

Dreamer came to Moosie’s defence.

“Honourable captain,” he began unhurriedly, “it may very well be that our antlered friend is not prototypical of his breed. However, that does not give you the right to deride and abuse his animalistic dignity.”

Mike came to Moosie’s support too. “Mr. Wolf”, he said, “we respect you as a brave and wise captain, but don’t make fun of my friends again, or I’ll have to put you back in the cupboard.”

At a loss of what to say, Wolf opened his mouth and then closed it, just like before, and then he opened it again and wheezed:

“A fid³⁸ in me ear, if I meant to insult him! I’ve seen hundreds of moose, but I never saw a moose like this one. I didn’t even know they existed!”

“If one is uncertain about something, it is best to be reserved in displays of emotion!” Dreamer said. “Furthermore, our antlered friend fears that he may become the object of your gastronomic preferences³⁹. You should categorically dispel his misgivings⁴⁰.

“What does he fear?” Wolf asked, confused.

“Moosie is afraid that you’ll eat him!” Mike explained.

Pop-eyed, Wolf twisted his muzzle and cried:

“May a swordfish stab me in the ribs, and the sharks eat me liver! What do you take me for? I’m an old Sea Wolf, a veteran of Trafalgar and Livorno⁴¹, a knight of the Legion of Horror⁴². I’m a captain, and I don’t devour my shipmates! If I’m a wolf that still doesn’t mean I…, I… well, I’m a vegetarian⁴³, if you want to know!

“What?!” Mike, Camel and Moosie said all together. “A vegetarian wolf?!”

Wolf felt that he had already said too much. But he gathered himself up with feeling and dignity, and said:

“Yes, it’s my rule of life! I don’t eat anybody!”

“That’s great!” Moosie exclaimed. “A vegetarian wolf is the best wolf in the world! Now I’m not afraid to sail with you.”

“Yes…” pronounced Camel, “‘O tempora! O mores!’, which translated from the Latin means ‘Oh, the times! Oh, the morals!’ I hope at least that Wolf doesn’t eat cactus yet.”

Chapter 6. Getting the Name

“Wait!” Mike said, “what are we going to name our ship?”

“Indeed!” wheezed Captain Wolf, “you mean she hasn’t got a name?”

“No ship can exist without a name!” Camel observed.

Mike thought about it. He had read a lot of books about ships and the sea that had names of lots of different ships, but none of them seemed to fit.

“Maybe we should name her Poseidon?” Mike suggested. “After all, he’s the god of the sea!”

“Such a name is hardly suitable for a small brig”, Camel retorted.

“Then let’s call her Fair Wind!” Mike said.

“Fair winds in me gob!” Captain Wolf said, disagreeing. “With a name like that ye’ll have to whistle for a fair wind!⁴⁴”

“But that’s just a superstition!⁴⁵” Mike retorted.

“You can think what ye like, but I’m not setting sail on no ship named Fair Wind!” Wolf said, unexpectedly adding: “And by the way, ships are often named in honour of famous captains. Why don’t we call her the Sea Wolf?”

“No!” Moosie said, terrified, “I’m not sailing on a wolf, even if it’s a sea wolf. It’s too scary!”

“The name does indeed sound exceedingly rapacious,⁴⁶” Camel said, supporting Moosie, “furthermore, in the event of any untoward incident, we would look foolish. Think of the newspaper headlines: ‘Sea Wolf Loses Control, Founders on Reef off South America.’”

“Bite yer tongue!” Captain Wolf swore, but he didn’t insist on the name any longer.

“Then let’s name the ship the Sea Moose!” Moosie said. “I’m not afraid of anybody laughing at me, as long as we don’t drown!”

“You may as well call her the Sea Camel,” Captain Wolf parried, “at least then we’ll win a prize for the silliest name.”

“It appears to me that we are forgetting our young friend,” said Camel, pointing his hoof at Mike, “the construction of the ship was his idea.”

Mike felt his cheeks turn red.

“If anybody is worthy of the honour to have the ship named after him, it is our young friend,” Camel continued.

All the animals agreed to this proposal, but they got no further; they couldn’t call her Captain Mike, because Mike wasn’t the captain. A number of exotic names were suggested: Floating Mike, Mike and Company, Young Friend of Animals, but none of them seemed right.

“Hold on!” Camel said. “This reminds me of something! In my youth I read a quite illuminating book. A man gathered a collection of various animals on his ship so that they wouldn’t drown.”

“And they didn’t drown?” Mike asked.

“No,” Camel answered, “as far as I can recall, the story had a happy ending. But I’ve forgotten the name of the ship.”

“Was it a frigate, a battleship, a yacht, a cruiser, a destroyer, a steamship, a schooner, a launch or a barge?” Captain Wolf suggested, ticking off the names. “Maybe it was a submarine?”

“Nothing like that,” Camel said, “it was a long time ago, when ships like that didn’t exist.”

Mike was getting bored with thinking about a name for the ship. He went over to the window and moved the curtains apart. “Wow”, he said looking out the window. “Look at the beautiful rainbow. I’ve never seen one in wintertime before.”

“Ah, an arc en ciel, as they say in French,” Camel replied, “an arc in the sky.”

“That means good luck for our voyage”, Wolf added.

“Yes…” Camel said, thinking. “Of course!” he exclaimed suddenly. “An ark! That’s what we’ll call the ship. Just like in the book!”

“That’s a strange name,” Captain Wolf said, surprised. “I’ve been to sea on twenty seven different types of ships, but I’ve never gone on an ark!”

“So the ship will be named Mike’s Ark?” Moosie asked.

Everybody liked the name. But Mike said:

“Thanks, everybody. But if the ship is going to have my name, it should be my grown-up name.”

“What do you mean, my young friend?” Camel inquired.

“It’s like this,” Mike said, “My daddy calls me Michael, like an adult. A ship should have a grown-up name. Let’s call our ship Michael’s Ark.”

“A wise proposal,” Camel observed. Let’s write that on the side. “Vox emissa volat, litera scripta manet’ which in Latin means “the spoken word flies away, the written remains’, concluded Camel, adding: “‘Ita fiat! Dixi!⁴⁷’”

Chapter 7. First Adventures

“Weigh anchor, cast off all lines!” Wolf cried, “Steady on two points to port⁴⁸! Secure the jib⁴⁹!”

Michael’s Ark slid away from the pier and gaily flew from the harbour.

The place that the ship set sail from had a very pretty, but long name: “Newfoundland’. Why it was “Newfoundland’ Mike really didn’t know. He had spun and spun the globe, checking the names of the seas and oceans, and finally found this island with the beautiful name. Dreamer approved of the choice.

“‘Newfoundland’”, said Camel, “means a new-found-land, which in this case is in complete consonance with the facts, given that you were the first to find it on the globe I concur with the development of…”

But Mike didn’t care to listen to one of Camel’s long-winded speeches. He wanted voyages and adventure, so he went forward, all the way to the ship’s bow.

Moosie stood at the brig’s helm. Captain Wolf had taught him how to steer the ship – that is, how to tell port from starboard⁵⁰. Moosie was very pleased and proud of himself. He even asked to be called Theodorus Moosovich, but Wolf flatly refused.

“Squids in me craw!” he said. “I’ll run us up on a reef before I’ll call you such a silly name! I’ll call you either seaman, or seamoose!”

“No,” Moosie said, “I want you to call me Seamoosie.”

Moosie liked that name so much that he didn’t call himself “little white Moosie’ any more, but would repeat to himself “I’m Moosie, Seamoosie”. Moosie gladly agreed to be the helmsman⁵¹, but he absolutely refused to climb up in the rigging and lines. In any case, Wolf didn’t insist; after looking Moosie over, he wheezed “Can’t use you aloft⁵², you’ll get them horns fouled in the rigging⁵³.” Camel wasn’t suited for the work either, since he had hooves on all four legs.

“By St. Elmo’s fire,” Wolf croaked, “what use are ye on a ship?”

“I have analyzed my capabilities,” Camel said, “and I have come to the conclusion that the best position for me would to be lookout. Camels are known for their excellent sight and hearing.”

“With hearing that good, you ought to be a hearout,” Wolf croaked, slightly confusing even himself, “anyway, all right, be a lookout. Just be brief in your reports, or else we’ll be stuck on a reef before you shut your gob!”

Wolf made Mike the cabin boy and assigned all the other work on board to him. At first Mike was a bit upset:

“I wanted to be captain, or at least first lieutenant⁵⁴, and now I’m only going to be a cabin boy?”

“Better to start off as cabin boy and end up as captain than to start as captain and end up at the bottom of the sea,” Wolf said.

“A sage observation⁵⁵,” Camel agreed.

“There’ll be no favourites on my ship,” the captain concluded, “stand your watch, boy!” But Mike wasn’t downhearted. First he had to be the cook for the animals and for himself. He had stocked the galley⁵⁶ and laid in supplies for the purpose. In addition, Mike learned how to raise and lower the sails, tie sailor’s knots and drop the anchor. True, sometimes he confused the mainsail with the mainbrace⁵⁷, and Wolf loudly dressed him down. But the cabin boy bravely withstood Wolf’s criticism, and didn’t resent his captain.

Their first days at sea were tranquil. A fair warm wind filled the sails. The friends enjoyed the views of the faraway shores, the fresh sea air and the sunny sky above the sails.

“It’s so great that we’ve started off on this voyage!” Mike thought. “It’s so terrific!”

Moosie manned the helm. Camel dreamed, dozing on the brig’s bow, occasionally raising his eyebrows and looking off into the distance. Wolf paced up and down the ship importantly, sucking on his pipe and barking comments at Mike and Moosie.

“Just how in Davy Jones’s locker⁵⁸ are you securing that jib⁵⁹, boy? Can’t you tie a sailor’s knot? You’re not tying your shoes! And as for you, don’t you know yet how to come about⁶⁰, you horned beast? You’re gonna lower the boom⁶¹ on them horns of yours! You’re not driving a streetcar!”

At first Moosie was afraid of Wolf and he winced every time he heard his hoarse yells, but then he got used to it and just lightly flapped his ears.

On their third day at sea, the weather took a nasty turn. The sky was filled with rain clouds, a fine rain was falling and a blustery wind blew.

“Of course, I am not a meteorologist⁶²,” Camel said, “but the weather no longer favours us. Preventive measures⁶³ are called for!”

Wolf ordered lowering half the sails, and Mike had to climb up the pitching, rolling mast right into the rain.

By the morning of the fourth day the bad weather had turned into a real storm. Gigantic waves tossed Michael’s Ark up and down, and the brig creaked and rolled from side to side. Rain came down in torrents. You couldn’t even see the sky, only clumps of gray clouds hanging over the rolling masts.

Moosie could barely control the helm with his short paws. He was soaked all through, his hooded coat stuck to his body, his horns waving back and forth in the wind. But to Mike’s surprise, he wouldn’t abandon his post for anything.

“I’m Seamoosie, and I’m steering the ship,” he would say.

“You should put up your hood, Moosie!” Mike suggested.

“I can’t,” Moosie said, “my handlers won’t fit in my hoodie.”

“Then go below and dry off, I’ll take your place. Your paws must be all rough and raw!”

“Yes,” Moosie said, “they are, look!”

Moosie let go of the helm and showed his paws to Mike.

Just at that moment, a gust of wind made the ship lurch; the helm spun around and a grip hit Moosie right in the nose. The helmsman lost his footing and fell on the deck, floundered around on the wet boards, flipped over the railing and landed straight in the boiling sea.

“Moosie!” Mike cried, “Moosie fell overboard!”

“What?!” roared Captain Wolf. “Fell overboard?!”

“Yes!” Mike cried, despairingly. “Over there!”

“Moose overboard!” Wolf bellowed. “Cast a line!”

Mike didn’t understand what Wolf meant, but there was no time to ask questions. So he jumped in after Moosie, without taking off his shirt, trousers or sandals.

For a moment, Mike was struck blind and deaf in the cold water. The waves slapped him from side to side, and he couldn’t figure out where he needed to swim to.

“Swim more to your left, ten thousand moose in me craw!” bawled Wolf from the deck.

Mike started working his hands and feet and swam to his left. Suddenly, in the trough between the waves, two brown branches appeared on the surface that looked like a moose’s horns from a distance. But waves immediately engulfed them, and the horns disappeared in the depths.

Mike took a deep breath and dived. He opened his eyes, but he couldn’t see anything. The water was murky and burned his eyes. Mike fumbled around with his hands everywhere, as if he was playing blind man’s bluff, and finally got hold of something soft that reminded him of the hood on Moosie’s coat. He grabbed onto it tight and started working his legs with all his might, tugging the hood to the surface. Judging from how heavy the coat was, his horned friend was still in it.

“Aah!” Mike’s head popped up between the waves, and he gratefully gulped the salty sea air.

“Grab the line!” Wolf’s voice called out from somewhere up above.

There was a splash next to him, and a red donut was tossing around on the waves. Mike grabbed the life saver with one hand.

“Hold on! We’ll pull you out!” Wolf wheezed.

“I’ve got the moose under water,” Mike yelled.

Just at that moment a wave hit him in the face. Mike coughed, but he didn’t let go of either the moose or the life saver.

“Pull him up and stick him in the life saver!” Wolf ordered.

Mike pulled the hood inside the life saver and yanked Moosie up. First his horns popped up, then his ears, and finally his terrified, bulging eyes. But that is where matters ground to a halt. Moosie’s long nose just refused to fit inside the life saver. Mike pressed down on Moosie’s nose and pushed it through the hole. His nose squeezed through and popped back into its normal shape, and his antlered friend was securely ensconced in the life saver.

“Pull!” Mike yelled.

“We can’t pull both of you!” Wolf growled. That moose has taken on a bilgeful of water!”

“Okay,” Mike agreed, “I’ll let go!”

Wolf and Camel hauled on the line with the life saver, and Moosie crawled up alongside the ship, sea water cascading off of him in torrents. Finally he got his waterlogged body over the railing and plopped himself down on the ship.

“Hooray!” Mike wanted to say, but he felt unexpectedly that his mouth, neck, legs and arms were getting numb and didn’t obey him. Mike looked up, but he couldn’t see Wolf or Camel at the edge of the deck.

“Heeeeeelp!” Mike weakly whispered.

And as if in answer to that weak, unheeded sound amid the stormy ocean, Captain Wolf appeared on the pitching deck. With a short motion of his paw, the life saver flew out and almost hit Mike in the head. Mike reached out for the life saver and just barely managed to stick his head and arms in it…

He came around because he felt something warm in his face. Mike opened his eyes and saw a big shaggy nose in front of him.

“Apparently our young friend has regained consciousness,” Camel pronounced.

“Let’s get our cabin boy below right away, change his clothes, warm him up, get him some tea and lay him in his bunk!” Wolf ordered.

“A most opportune idea,” Camel replied, “but what shall we do with the moose?”

“Hang the moose!” the Captain said dismissively.

“I beg your pardon! I don’t think I quite heard you correctly,” Dreamer said, “are you proposing that we hang our antlered friend?”

“I said, hang him out to dry!” Wolf growled.

“Don’t hang me!” whined Moosie, who had also come around and was now lying on the deck, rivulets of salt water running off of him. “I’m little white Seamoosie, my handlers are all wet, and if you hang me out to dry they’ll get all droopy.”

“I fully support the apprehensions⁶⁴ of our antlered friend,” Came said, “a moose must be washed down with fresh water, and then hung out to dry with its hooves upward.

“Well, scrub me down with a holystone!⁶⁵” Captain Wolf said, “All right, we’ll hang him to dry on the yardarm, hooves up. The rain’s almost stopped.”

“One may observe with some satisfaction that meteorological conditions are noticeably improving,” Dreamer said, “we have successfully braved our first ordeal⁶⁶.”