Tales From The Glades Of Ballymore

by Bob Brooks

  The mast was moved to the dock and placed parallel to the hull. Bartholomew went to the hoist, turned the handle, and lowered the hook to the ground. Burton connected the hook to the top of the mast, and Bartholomew slowly turned the hoist handle clockwise. The mast end began to rise. As it rose, its base slid along the dock. The beavers made sure that it slid in a straight line, still parallel to the hull. After about two minutes the mast stood straight up and resting on the dock.

  “Great!” Burton said.

  Next Bartholomew raised the mast higher until it cleared the side of the boat. The beavers kept it from swinging and guided it to the center of the deck. Now, Bartholomew lowered it through a hole they had cut in the deck. The beavers pushed the base into a special fixture in the bottom of the hull. Then, they secured it to the hull and deck. For extra safety the top of the mast was tied to two trees.

  The animals stood and gazed at their boat. What a wonderful sight!

  Bartholomew said, “This is an important accomplishment. Thank you everybody. Let’s take the rest of the day off, but please be back at 8 bongs tomorrow morning.”

  The next morning, Bartholomew was the first to arrive, he thought. When he walked over to the design plans table, he found he was not the first. The same four queen bees were sitting next to the plans. Bartholomew was not too surprised to see the bees because Reginald had told him about them. Still, this was not something that happened everyday.

  He said, “Good morning, Queens. Welcome!”

  Then, he began to look at the day’s schedule. The bees didn’t move and continued to watch.

  When the beavers got there, Bartholomew mentioned the bees to them. They walked over to the table and stared at the bees. The bees stared back at them. When Bartholomew said, “Okay, let’s get to work,” the staring contest ended. It was a tie.

  The next three days were spent preparing the boat for the mounting of the sails. That involved attaching beams, rigging, and other fixtures. The parts were already made, and the hoist was a great help again.

  The bees stayed and watched as the work progressed. Occasionally, they flew around the boat in order to get a better view. Each evening they flew back to their garden and returned in the morning. Late on the third day, the rigging was complete. Tomorrow, the sails!

  In the morning, the sails were rolled up, lifted into place, and secured with ropes and ties. Since they were to be operational, that meant that they had to raise, lower, and rotate. Installing them proved easier than expected, and that task was completed by evening. Each sail was raised, lowered, and rotated several times, and they performed perfectly. They were then left in the lowered position.

  Essentially, the boat was finished (except for some furniture, etc.) and ready for launch.

  The team began the launch attempt the following day. The plan called for making the dock very slippery with oil and sliding the boat into the water. Earlier, the swans had brought a quantity of cooking oil. The beavers spread a generous amount where the boat made contact with the dock. They did the best they could to push it underneath. Then, they placed planks on each side of the boat to keep it from tipping as it moved.

  “Okay, good,” said Bartholomew. “Now let’s get behind it, and try to push it into the water.”

  Morris, Bartholomew, and the five beavers got behind the boat.

  Bartholomew yelled, “Push!”

  Nothing happened.

  “Push!”

  Nothing happened.

  It wasn’t going to move. There was too much weight and too much friction between the boat and the dock. The bees were not impressed.

  “Unfortunately, this is not going to work,” said Bartholomew.

  Everyone was disappointed.

  “I don’t know if it is strong enough, but let’s try to use the hoist to raise the boat off of the dock. We can then dismantle the dock and lower the boat into the pond.”

  There were openings in the railings along the sides of the deck. They connected four ropes to these openings and ran them to the hook of the hoist.

  Bartholomew went to the hoist handle and told everyone to stand well clear. He turned it, and the ropes tightened. He kept turning, and it became obvious that everything was straining. The boat lifted slightly. Snap! Snap! Snap! Snap! All four ropes snapped at the same time. The ropes flew up into the air, and the boat went in the opposite direction. It crashed onto the dock, cracking it in several places. The good news was that the boat was now two inches closer to the water than before. The bad news was that the dock was a mess, and this method had also failed. At least, the boat was not damaged and was still held securely by the planks. The bees were not impressed.

  Bartholomew said, ”I’m sorry everyone. It’s getting late. We will try again in the morning.”

  They said goodnight, and the beavers and bees left. Bartholomew and Morris stared at the boat. After a while Bartholomew said, “Perhaps we can saw the dock away. If we start removing the horizontal boards in front of the boat, eventually, it will have to slip into the water.”

  “Yes, but will it happen the way we want it to happen without any damage?” asked Morris.

  They pondered the potential problems for a while:

  Both sides of a dock board had to be cut at the same time

  The boat must not tip sideways

  More oil would probably help

  When (If) the boat was launched, it would be nice if it didn’t float away

  The next morning everyone was there by 8 bongs. Bartholomew told them of the new plan. No one had any objections or a better idea.

  Step 1:They ensured that boards and ropes were in place toprevent the boat from tipping

  Step 2:They spread additional oil underneath

  Step 3:They attached additional ropes to keep the boat from floating away

  Morris and Burton did the sawing. The bow was not in contact with the first three boards. These were easily removed.

  When they cut away the fourth board, it splashed into the water and a couple of creaks were heard, but that was all.

  When they cut away the fifth board, the bow sank slightly, and there was more creaking.

  The sixth board — the same.

  The seventh board — the same.

  The eighth board — the same.

  The ninth board — the same.

  The tenth board — not the same.

  Just after the tenth board was cut away, the boat began to move on its own, down and forward. The remaining boards of the dock split in slow motion, and it slipped into the water.

  Everyone cheered. The bees, who were on the boat, fluttered up and down and then flew off towards their garden.

  The HMS Ballymore had been launched, finally.

  Even though floating among broken pieces of dock, it was still beautiful and an impressive construction feat.

  The team cleaned up the shattered wood and tied their new boat to the piers. Bartholomew stayed with her the rest of the day. As a matter of fact, he slept on the deck that night. It was the best night’s sleep he had gotten in a long time.

  Early the next morning, Bartholomew was awakened by Morris. Morris and Birk had made the furniture for the boat. It was Birk’s first furniture assignment, and he did a great job. Morris was bringing pieces to the boat.

  He was surprised to see Bartholomew already there.

  “Bart, you certainly got here early.”

  “Good morning. I never left,” laughed Bartholomew. “I always wanted to sleep on a boat and now I have.”

  “How was it?”

  “Quiet, peaceful, gentle rocking,” he answered. “Perfectly wonderful! I would recommend it for anyone.”

  Bartholomew helped Morris place the furniture on the deck. When finished, the two friends slowly walked back to Morris’s cottage for breakfast. They couldn’t help but look back several times. Only one more week remained until Midsummer’s Eve.

  That night, Bartholomew was on his rounds. It was warm for June, and he glided ea
sily. The boat was finished except for a few minor details, and it had been successfully launched. That was a major accomplishment for Ballymore, and he was very pleased.

  As he approached the northeast corner of the pond, she came into view as expected. However, he was surprised to see that its sails were up. As he got closer, he also saw some figures scurrying around the deck, and one of the rope ties had been taken off its buoy. He flew to the boat, dove, and landed on the deck. As he did, two figures ran behind some boxes. He spotted one tail sticking out. It looked a lot like a weasel tail.

  “Wilde and Wilder come out here right now,” he said sternly. At first nothing happened, but then both weasels crawled from behind the boxes and stood before him with their heads bowed.

  “I know you are very interested in the boat, but do either of you know how to sail?”

  They shook their heads, no.

  “Just as I thought. A lot of work has gone into building this boat, and it would be a shame if it were damaged by inexperienced sailors. Don’t you agree?”

  “Yes, sir,” they both answered.

  “After the boat is officially presented next week, we will offer sailing classes, which you are most welcome to join. Then, you can learn how to properly operate the boat and enjoy it with everybody else.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Wilde. “We didn’t know about the classes, and we didn’t mean any harm. The boat is so beautiful.”

  “Yes, she is,” said Bartholomew. “Wilder, retie that line, and Wilde, help me lower these sails.”

  In short order, the boat was restored to normal.

  “Now boys, go and continue your legitimate duties,” said Bartholomew.

  “Yes, sir,” Wilde said, and they left quickly. Bartholomew smiled and thought how he would enjoy sailing the boat. All in good time. All in good time.

  The week passed quickly. The swans had sailing experience and took the boat out for three evening test cruises. They would be crewing it for the Midsummer’s Eve presentation. All went well. Some minor adjustments were made, and the HMS Ballymore was ready her debut.

  On Midsummer’s Eve, everyone had gathered at the community park, on the south shore of the island, by noon. The park had a pavilion and large recreational area. It was used frequently for events.

  Today, of course, the main attraction was the HMS Ballymore. The residents were eager to see their new boat. Some had caught glimpses of it, but this would be the real presentation. Everyone was chattering and moving about when Bartholomew moved to the pavilion stage. The animals took their seats and quieted down.

  “Good afternoon everybody, and welcome to our annual Midsummer’s Eve picnic. This event has probably been going on for as long as Ballymore has existed. We are all part of this rich history. Today’s big event will be the presentation of the HMS Ballymore. Before that, though, I have something to tell you that might be an even bigger event for Ballymore.”

  A murmur went through the crowd as they were not expecting a surprise.

  Bartholomew continued, “Earlier this month, Petunia Porcupine came to me with an old letter that was found buried near her cottage.”

  He held up the letter.

  “I would like to read it to you now.”

  Then, he read the letter but omitted the sentence regarding the location of the box. The animals began talking among themselves, but they weren’t sure what to make of the letter. Bartholomew held up his wings, and again, they quieted.

  “Cyrus Owl and the residents of Ballymore of 1801 have had the foresight and generosity to contact us from the distant past. We are very privileged to have found this letter. Cyrus has expressed his concern that the values that made Ballymore a special place to live may be lost. It is 1891 now, ninety years later, and we have not lost those values.”

  Then, the crowd stood and cheered Bartholomew. They remained standing as he finished.

  “Thank you very much. It is good to be reminded of them. Together, we will solve the puzzle and locate the gift that has awaited us for so long. We will begin the hunt soon. Now, let’s enjoy this wonderful day. Your new boat will be here directly.”

  The crowd clapped and cheered again. Then, they jumped onto the stage and surrounded Bartholomew. He ushered them towards the dock as he answered numerous questions.

  Stoddard and Sean flew off to the boat to prepare. She was anchored at the northwest end of the island.

  About one-half hour later, Brie Bluebird brought a message for Bartholomew. The boat was on its way and should be there in about fifteen minutes.

  He told the waiting crowd, “Fifteen minutes to go!”

  Everyone stood on the dock or shoreline, looking to their right, and trying to be the first to spot the boat. They were silent with anticipation and expectation. The boat would come around the west end of the island about one-quarter mile away. The bluebirds flew out over the water a short distance and had the best view.

  The weather was warm with partly cloudy skies and a slight breeze from the west. There were only small waves on the pond.

  About ten minutes later, Branna shouted, “They’re coming, I can see them!”

  The crowd leaned forward in anticipation.

  “There she is!” yelled Birk.

  First, the shiny, black bow cleared the trees. Quickly, the dark red sails followed, and the crowd broke into a roar. Silently and so smoothly the HMS Ballymore glided slowly through the water. Her large sails rippled slightly in the breeze. At the top of the mast, flew a dark red pennant with the single name “Ballymore” lettered on it. The rails and sails were trimmed with decorative gold bunting.

  Sean was standing at attention near the mast. Stoddard, also at attention, was at the tiller. They wore long, dark red capes specially made for the event by Rhonda Rabbit.

  Just when they thought it couldn’t get any better, it did!

  Branna was still hovering out over the water. She yelled, “Something else is coming!”

  If it was possible, the crowd looked even harder but saw nothing. Then, a buzzing sound was heard, and it grew progressively louder.

  The crowd let out a gasp, and several “Oh my’s” were heard.

  Trailing the boat, but drawing closer, was a squadron of about one hundred bumblebees lined up in the familiar V-shaped formation, which geese use. At the head of the V, was their queen. The formation was about five feet above the boat. Within seconds a second V-formation appeared behind the first and then a third and a fourth. Each group was led by their queen. The crowd clapped and cheered even louder in appreciation.

  The queen leading the first V lined herself up directly over the mast. Each following formation of bumblebees was ten feet behind the group in front. They matched the speed of the boat exactly and maintained perfect alignment.

  The procession approached the dock about thirty feet off-shore. The boat went past by about three hundred feet and then executed a smooth U-turn. The bees did the same. The buzzing sound, from the four hundred bumblebees, was now quite impressive.

  The procession had one additional element to it, but no one noticed. Following the boat underwater was a large dark shape. It was Sam Snapping Turtle.

  The boat docked. Sean jumped off and secured it. The crowd, still cheering, gathered around.

  The bumblebees stopped and briefly held position over the water. They then began to move off in the direction they had come, still in formation. When the crowd realized they were leaving, they gave them another appreciative ovation. The bees continued to head west. The buzzing faded, and eventually they were out of sight.

  There is only one word that does justice to what had just occurred: Majestic!

  Bartholomew had to admit, to himself, that he was pretty impressed. For a moment he was overcome with emotion, which was rare for him.

  Bartholomew raised his wings to briefly quiet the crowd. “You see what we can accomplish when we work together. His voice quivered a little. Ladies and gentlemen, I am honored to present to you, your new boat, the HMS
Ballymore. Isn’t she beautiful!”

  The crowd roared and then began yelling “Bart, Bart, Bart.”

  That embarrassed Bartholomew, and he blushed.

  As the animals climbed all over the boat, he managed to slip through them and made it to a picnic table on the pavilion. Grenby had also escaped the overflowing dock and soon joined him.

  “I’m not much for crowds either,” said Grenby. “I do congratulate you, Bartholomew. You’ve done a superb job.”