The Dragon Raft

by Rory Barnes

  Me and Billy and Sally left the adults to drink tea and wandered down to the bait and tackle shop. We got ice creams from the shop and went and sat on the raft, eating them, waiting for Sally’s mum to come and have a look at the raft. We took off our sneakers and dangled our feet in the water.

  I said, “We’d never have to wait like this for my parents.”

  Sally said, “Mum just wants to have look at the raft. She’s heard all about it.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said. “I’m not complaining about your mum, Sally. I’m complaining about my oldies. They’ve never been to look at the raft. They’re just not interested.”

  We were all silent for a few minutes and then Billy said, “Let’s go back to the Port River.”

  After the incident with the yacht, we had decided to only go to the River when there was enough wind to make steering easy. You didn’t only get yachts in the river, you got huge ships: live sheep carriers, freighters, cruise ships with hundreds of passengers lining the railings. We couldn’t afford to drift into the path of one of those. There was no way those guys could jam on the brakes. Mind you, it was fun to watch them go past. And then once they had gone past there was the wake to ride. The raft used to rock like a seesaw.

  Sally said, “Yeah, let’s go to the Port. As soon as mum has had a look at the raft. I reckon we’ll see some dolphins. I reckon today is a good dolphin day.”

  The dolphins in the Port River thought the big ships were fun too. They used to ride the bow waves, just like surfers at a beach. One day Billy and I had watched a group of about five of them riding the bow wave of a Japanese freighter. The dolphins had been heading out to sea when the freighter arrived, but they turned round and went surfing back to the Port, just for the fun of it.

  We’d never seen the lone dolphin, the one we called Double Nick, surfing. We reckoned that maybe surfing was a group activity. And Double Nick never swam around in a group with the other dolphins. It was funny because Double Nick was the dolphin that seemed most friendly to us. If it was in the area it would always come over to the raft and swim around us.

  * * * * * * *

  Sally’s mum arrived with Tessa and Tony and we showed her the raft. She didn’t come on board, but she asked lots of questions and wanted to know which of the drums was her brother’s molasses drum. Then she said, “OK, let’s watch you all sail into the deep blue yonder.” So we hoisted the sail and set off down the boat channel.

  The Port River is just on the other side of Torrens Island, but the scenery changes completely. The Port River is industrial. There are all sorts of factories and wharves and power stations and other buildings. The water is pretty scungy. If I were a dolphin I’d give the Port River a miss and live in Barker Inlet instead. But the dolphins seem to prefer the Port River, maybe they just like surfing the bow waves.

  Billy was steering. The raft was surging along. There was nothing for me and Sally to do except look at the scenery. We were sitting in the shade of the sail with our backs resting against the cabin.

  Sally said, “Why are you always dumping on your parents?”

  I was a bit startled. As I say, I don’t like to talk about my parents very much. I said, “I don’t dump on my parents.” I knew this wasn’t true, but I wanted to put a stop to the conversation.

  Sally laughed and said, “And I don’t suppose you breathe air either.”

  There was a long silence. I looked at the shore of Torrens Island sliding past. There was an egret standing on one leg, a long, thin bird, white as salt. I think if Sally had tried to start the conversation again I’d have told her to shut up. But she said nothing. Then I suddenly found myself talking to her. It was almost as if someone else had taken control of my tongue, I was even more startled to find myself answering Sally’s question than I had been when she asked it. “Nothing I ever do is any good,” I said. “My dad has never given me any encouragement. I am always at fault. It’s how he tries to make himself feel good: by finding fault with other people, especially me. And Mum, of course. Nothing she does is any good either. And Mum believes it. She believes she’s no good because Dad tells her she’s no good. She’s always trying to please him and she can’t do it. She can’t do it because nothing would ever please Dad. Nothing.”

  “What does your Dad think about the raft? The raft is wonderful.”

  “I’ve told you, he’s never been to look at it. He thinks he doesn’t need to look at it because he already knows it’s a heap of junk.”

  “Maybe he’s secretly pleased. Maybe he’s secretly proud of you, but can’t say so for some reason. There are people like that.”

  “Not my Dad. He’s not secretly pleased about anything.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I know. I’ve lived with the guy all my life. Except when he was away.”

  “Away where?”

  “Just away.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “Yatala.”

  “What? The prison?”

  “That’s what Yatala is, a prison.

  “Crumbs....”

  I had to laugh. I laughed.

  Sally said, “What’s so funny?”

  “The way you said ‘crumbs’. Anybody would think you’d never heard of prison before.”

  “I’d...I’d never heard of someone’s dad going to prison.”

  “Just because someone has a kid... it doesn’t make them instantly law-abiding.”

  “No, I suppose not,” Sally said. “I’ve never really thought about it. What did he do? What did your dad do, Wal?”

  “Aggravated assault.”

  “Oh my God. You?”

  “No, no. Some guy at work. He got into a fight at work. I don’t know the details, no one ever told me.”

  “So what happened when he was in jail?”

  “Me and Mum had a real good time. There was no one to criticise us. I thought Mum would get the message. I thought she’d realize that life was better without Dad. But all she wanted was for him to get out of clink so that we could be a family again. So that Dad could find fault with us again.”

  “And that happened?”

  “We’re a family aren’t we? Me and Mum and Dad in the one house.”

  “Yeah, I suppose so.”

  Suddenly Billy yelled from the back of the raft, “Hey, you two. Fix the sail, we’ve changed direction, if you haven’t noticed.”

  Sally and I scrambled about, loosening one rope, tightening the other, so that the sail was at the right angle. When we’d finished, it seemed like the conversation was over. We both just sat and thought. I was surprised with myself for telling Sally all that stuff, but I didn’t regret doing it. I was glad I’d talked to her. Then we saw this mad thrashing orange monster. Billy saw it first.

  “What’s that?” he yelled, pointing.

  Whatever it was it was over near the Torrens Island bank of the river. It was on the surface, splashing and banging the water.

  “Monster,” I said.

  “Shark?” Billy said.

  “Dunno,” I said.

  “Let’s go and check it out,” Sally said.

  “I don’t reckon we should get too close,” I said.

  “It can’t do us any harm if we’re on the raft. It’s not like it’s a whale or something,” Billy said.

  “OK,” I said.

  We had to tack against the breeze, moving in a zigzag course, so it took us a bit of time to get close to the monster. It was a weird colour, a sort of bright, dirty orange.

  “What do you reckon?” I said.

  “It’s a net,” Billy said. “It’s a fishing net with something in it.”

  “Fish, maybe,” I said. “A whole heap of fish.”

  When we got nearer we could see it wasn’t a lot of fish it was something like a seal or dolphin. It was a dolphin.

  “The poor guy,” Sally said. “It’s trapped.”

  “We’d better go and get someone,” I said. “The police. Or someone from the zoo.”


  “That’d take ages,” Sally said. “It might drown or something while we were away.”

  “Well we can’t untangle it ourselves,” I said.

  “I don’t see why not,” Billy said.

  “Just look at it, Billy,” I said. “It must weigh a ton. And the net’s all round it.”

  “Have we got that knife?” Sally said.

  “Yeah, the one we chop the bait with,” I said. “It’s in the container with the bread. But it’s not sharp.”

  “What about the wire cutters on the pliers?” Billy said. “If it can cut wire, it ought to be able to cut that stuff.”

  “We’d have to cut heaps of it. We’d have to get underneath the dolphin. I really reckon we ought to go and get someone.” I looked around the river. Usually there were other boats, guys out fishing. But now there was no one. We were on our own.

  “Get the sail down,” Billy said. “We’ll do the last bit with the paddles. We don’t want to run the poor guy over.”

  By now we were only a few metres from the dolphin. The net almost completely covered him. But I could see its fin under the net. At first I wasn’t sure, but then he moved and the net slipped a bit and I could see the two nicks.

  “Hey, it’s Double Nick,” I said.

  “Do you know this guy?” Sally said.

  “Yeah, he’s a loner,” I said. “He’s got no mates.”

  “Probably an orphan,” Sally said. “That’s what happens to orphans.”

  “Stop jabbering,” Billy said. “We’ve got work to do. We’ll see if we can cut the stuff.”

  Billy grabbed the knife and lay down on his stomach, reaching out over the water. Sally and I paddled a bit more and we came right up beside Double Nick. I could see his eyes. He seemed to be grinning, but then he always seem to be grinning. It didn’t matter about the expression on his face, I reckoned the poor guy was desperate and upset. Billy grabbed the net with one hand and started to saw at the plastic rope with the bait knife. The knife just wasn’t up to it. We could all tell that within a few seconds, but Billy kept sawing away for half a minute, but he only managed to get half way through one bit of rope. “It’s no good,” he said, sitting up. We can’t cut it, we’ll just have to try to untangle it. I looked at the dolphin, he’d stopped thrashing about and was just lying there. Maybe he knew we were trying to help him. Maybe he was trying to help us help him by not moving. Maybe he was just exhausted.

  Billy reached down into the water beside Double Nick and tried to pull the net free, but it wouldn’t budge, it was wrapped tightly round the poor guy.

  “There’s got to be a free end somewhere,” Sally said. “It’s a net, it isn’t a sausage.”

  “Maybe on the other side,” I said.

  “It’s hard to tell,” Billy said.

  “Say we go round and have a look.”

  “Good idea. Grab a paddle.”

  Paddling the raft was never easy. You had to paddle hard and the raft only crept along, but Billy and I went at it like madmen. Slowly the raft did a U turn and ended up on the other side of the dolphin. I looked down into the water. The net was hanging down into the depths like a curtain.

  “Right,” Billy said, “let’s drag it up.”

  All three of us lay on our stomachs, reached over the side of the raft, grabbed the net and pulled. The dolphin suddenly let out a sort of blurt sound from its blowhole.

  “Maybe it’s trying to tell us something,” I said. “Maybe it’s trying to encourage us.”

  “Maybe,” Billy said. “Keep pulling.”

  Slowly the net came up. It felt quite heavy. I couldn’t understand why. Then I could. Through the water I could see the bottom of the net. There were sinkers, attached to it.

  “If we get the net free,” I gasped. “It’ll sink again.”

  “We’ve got to get this guy out,” Billy said. “That’s the main thing.”

  “Yeah,” Sally said. “But let’s try to hang onto the net. Otherwise it will just trap some other poor dolphin.”

  Slowly we got the net up, it was all bunched up on the surface, the plastic rope floated perfectly easily.

  “OK,” Billy said. “Now throw it over the other side of the dolphin.”

  “It’ll sink,” I said.

  “Can’t be helped.”

  But I had this vision of the net back down on the bottom of the inlet. The sinkers would keep the lower end on the bottom, the plastic rope would float up towards the surface like a ghostly upside-down curtain. It would be a trap. That’s probably how it had snared Double Nick in the first place. Like Sally said, it would just sit there until it grabbed another dolphin. Maybe it would even grab this poor guy for the second time.

  “Throw this lot over his back,” I said, “but grab the other end.”

  Leaning right out over the dolphin we managed to get the edge of the net with the sinkers over his back. Then everything happened very fast. The sinkers pulled the net down again on the other side. Double Nick banged his tail on the water, crack! The net unwound and the dolphin was almost free. The net was now just snagged on his fin. I reached over, and grabbed the net, trying to free the fin, but the dolphin suddenly dived and with a huge swirl of water he was away. I was left holding the net. I toppled forward but didn’t let go. The water hit me, I spluttered to the surface and grabbed the side of the raft with my free hand—I got my fingers round one of the ropes that secured the drums. Billy and Sally grabbed my wrist and arm. They tried to pull me onto the raft, but the net was pulling the other way, down towards the bottom of the river.

  “It’s no good, Wal,” Billy said. “You’ll havta let it go.”

  “Get a bit of rope,” I gasped. “Tie it onto the net.”

  “OK.”

  Billy let go of my arm. Sally held my wrist even tighter. I just hung there beside the raft—one hand holding the net, the other holding tight to the rope that held a drum to the deck. The water was cold, but not too cold. I felt good. I felt real good. I was doing something really important.

  We managed to anchor the net to the raft. I let go and climbed on board. Then all three of us pulled the net up onto the raft. It wasn’t a complete net, of course. They’re huge. It was just a fragment, a bit that must have become tangled in something. Somebody must have cut it loose.

  “Right,” Billy said, “let’s go home.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  When we got back to St Kilda, I was still pretty wet. I should have gone home to change, but I didn’t feel like explaining things to my parents right then. So I went back to Billy’s place with him and Sally. If Billy had been a bit taller I would have borrowed some of his clothes, but he’s too small. So I borrowed a shirt and a pair of black jeans from Tony. They were a bit big, but I rolled up the bottoms of the jeans and Tony lent me a belt with a Harley Davidson buckle.

  “You look real cool, Wal. We’ll make a heavy metal rocker of you yet.”

  We were all still a bit hyped up from saving the dolphin. We sat in the kitchen and ate cheese-and-bacon biscuits dipped in salsa and told Tony and Tessa all about it.

  “Wal was the real hero,” Sally said. “Billy and I just sat on the raft.”

  “I fell in by mistake,” I said. “I didn’t dive in on purpose.”

  “Sounds like a pretty heroic mistake,” Tessa said.

  “Where’s the net now?” Tony said.

  “On the raft,” Billy said. “It’s quite heavy. It’s got these metal sinkers.”

  Tony took his ute down to the raft and brought back the net. We all went outside to look at it.

  “Hell, you wouldn’t want to get wrapped up in that,” Tessa said. “I hope the dolphin appreciates what you’ve done.”

  “It might,” Sally said. “When I was doing my project on dolphins I read all this stuff about how they sometimes save drowning humans. They keep them up on the surface. It’s what they do to their own mates if they are drowning. So Double Nick might have understood what we were doing—it was a dolphiny sort of thing
to do.”

  “What are we going to do with the net?” Tessa said.

  “It might be useful,” Tony said.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “I might use it to hold down rubbish in the trailer. Secure the load.”

  “The day you throw out a trailer’s worth of rubbish, Tony, I’ll eat my hat.”

  “Better get yourself a cheese-and-bacon hat, girl.”

  At that moment Sally’s mum arrived in her car. So we told her all about it as well. Then she took Sally home and I wandered back to my place in the borrowed clothes, with my own clothes in a plastic bag. Mum wasn’t too thrilled at the state of my jeans.

  “We were saving a dolphin,” I said.

  “Well don’t tell your father about it, Wal.”

  “Why not?” I said. “What’s wrong with saving a dolphin?”

  “You know how he hates that awful raft.”

  “What do you mean?” I said. “Hates it?”

  “It’s taken over your life, Wal.”

  “So?”

  “Oh, Wal. Don’t argue. Go and change your clothes.”

  I went to my room and changed my clothes, muttering to myself. I was a bit shocked. I knew Dad wasn’t enthusiastic about the raft, I’m not stupid. But hate? Maybe Mum was exaggerating. I damn well hoped so. And, of course I was going to tell Dad about saving the dolphin. If he didn’t like hearing about it, too bad.

  Dad was in a foul mood at tea. I could tell by the way he wasn’t saying anything. Dad doesn’t scream and shout. He is always in control. Unless he’s snapped. Then he’s totally out of control. But mostly he is in control of himself. He is in control of Mum. And he thinks he is in control of me.

  I spoke into the silence, “Me and Billy and Sally saved a dolphin today.”