The Querulous Effect

by Arkay Jones

  “Exactly!” said the professor. “That’s what I thought. Just the same but on a massive scale. It must be Cosmo. Whatever he is up to, it is a much bigger project. And a much bigger mess! I am sure you can see now why I am so keen we get on his trail and sort this out before he does irreparable damage to the wild life in the Arctic.”

  The children nodded seriously in agreement.

  “But where is he?” Jay asked.

  “Well, I’m pretty sure he is on the east coast of Greenland,” replied the Prof. “All these sightings were in the seas between Greenland and Iceland. And the most convincing evidence to my mind is this book.”

  He held out the thick, old, leather-bound volume he had brought out from the house and continued with his explanation. “You see, I was sitting in my study, having just put down the phone after my conversation with Tom Claythorne and wondering whether it was Cosmo who was the cause of all the unusual sights Tom’s son had reported, when I noticed this book sticking out from the shelf. It had been moved from its original place. I haven’t read it for years and I assume you haven’t borrowed it, Tim.”

  Tim shook his head. “No, I haven’t. In fact, it looks a bit boring to me.”

  “It may look boring but it’s actually very interesting. It’s by a man who was born around 200 years ago. He was born in Bavaria in Germany, and travelled a lot, eventually becoming a professor of mineralogy, which is the study of rocks and minerals. By then he had changed his German name and been knighted by the King of Denmark and was known as Sir Charles Lewis Giesecke. The interesting thing is that he spent a long time on the Greenland coast, making lots of discoveries about plants and sea-life as well as rocks. And,” the Prof continued, looking hard at the children and raising his voice in emphasis, “he also noted sea creatures in the Greenland sea that shone in the dark.”

  The children all nodded in agreement. That did seem to be an important link.

  “Not only that,” the Prof went on, “even more interesting still, is the fact that Giesecke originally studied at Göttingen University in Germany. It was whilst I was teaching at that very university that I first met Cosmo! And what is more, Cosmo was making a special study of Giesecke’s work when he was there and knew all about his journeys along the Greenland coast.”

  “I see,” said Jay. “So you think Cosmo may have been reminded of Giesecke by spotting your book when he was working with you.”

  “Exactly!” said the Prof. “Then, when he was asked a little later by the boss of Blusterton International to set up a research facility, I think Cosmo recalled Giesecke’s work and decided that he would follow in Giesecke’s footsteps and go to Greenland as the ideal place to do his research. The Arctic waters are fertile for sea life with plenty of plankton and other nutrients for him to use as he carried out his work. And, of course, no-one would ever think of looking for him there.”

  “Except us!” said Tim.

  Everyone seemed excited that the mystery of Cosmo Querulous’ whereabouts appeared to be solved. But the excitement did not last long. It was Jay who made the obvious observation.

  “I think you may well be right, Prof,” he said, “but as we said earlier, Greenland is a very long way. How could we possibly get there with all the equipment that we took to the factory? We probably need even more if Cosmo’s experiment is on a large scale.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” replied the Prof. “I agree it isn’t easy. I’ve wondered about seeing if we could travel on board one of the Claythorne family’s trawlers. It could certainly carry all the equipment we need. But the problem is that it would be a very long voyage and, from the reports we have received, we need to get there very urgently. Sailing there and then searching from a trawler, even if could sail close enough to the coast, might take too long.”

  “Could we fly?” suggested Ella.

  The Prof shook his head. “I’ve thought about that too. It would certainly be quick but I don’t think any airline would let us carry all the equipment we need. And, in any case, there are not any suitable airports where we could land near the Greenland coast.”

  The little group fell silent, each of them thinking hard. Jay turned the matter over in his mind and then reviewed the problem, saying reflectively, “So a boat can take all our equipment but is too slow and a plane is fast enough but can’t take the load or land. What we need then is a boat that can fly.”

  The Prof nodded. “A good analysis, Jay, but I don’t think it solves our problem.”

  “No, I suppose not,” said Jay and everyone fell silent again.

  Suddenly Tim leapt to his feet. “It does solve it!” he shouted. “Jay is right. I know what we need, I’ve read about them. A boat that flies – a flying boat!”

  The Prof leapt up too. “You’re right, Tim. Jay has done it again. What a suggestion. Why didn’t I think of that before? Of course, a flying boat.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Ella. “I don’t understand what you are talking about.”

  “A flying boat is a kind of aeroplane, Ella,” explained the professor. “Instead of wheels it has large floats so it can land on water. It would be the perfect way to search and land by the Greenland coast. And what is more, I know someone who might still have one!”

  CHAPTER 16

  Less than an hour after the discussion in the orchard, a small, sprightly lady baking in her kitchen in a cottage by a loch in the Scottish highlands was interrupted by the telephone. This was most inconvenient but ’phone calls were rare these days and she felt that she had better answer it. She rubbed the flour off her hands, covered the half-prepared shortbread with a tea-towel and lifted the telephone.

  “The Boat House, Kilgardie Loch,” she said, “Jeannie McDoon speaking.”

  The Professor introduced himself and explained the purpose of his call. Fifteen minutes later, having finished the shortbread and popped it into the oven, Mrs. McDoon buttoned up her cardigan, picked up a megaphone from the hallway and made her way through the neat garden down to the loch side. She stood at the end of the garden, next to a wooden jetty which ran out into the loch and put the megaphone to her lips.

  “Ahoy, Sandy. Sandy, ahoy!” Her voice rang out through the loud-hailer and she repeated the call.

  Her words were addressed to her husband, Sandy McDoon, Squadron Leader (Retired). Rather, they were addressed to his feet, which stuck out from under the wing of an enormous flying boat moored alongside the jetty.

  The stentorian tones of Mrs. McDoon’s magnified voice rang out once more from the megaphone. “Sandy! Ahoy! Sandy!”

  The feet twitched and slowly the figure of Sandy McDoon wriggled out from under the wing, spanner in hand. He peered at the diminutive figure of his wife standing at the other end of the jetty and saw her raise the megaphone to her lips once more.

  “Telephone, Sandy! It’s that mad professor chum of yours, Theobald Ricardo. It sounded urgent. I explained you were out tinkering with your flying boat but that just made him even more keen to talk to you. He said he’d ring back in an hour, so you’d better come in – but mind you clean up first!”

  Sandy signalled that he had understood. As Jeannie made her way back, he put his spanners back in the tool box, wiped the oil off his hands and plodded after her along the jetty to the house. He had changed out of his overalls and washed his hands when the ’phone rang again and he picked it up to hear the familiar voice of Prof Ricardo. They exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes and then Sandy made the obvious enquiry.

  “It’s grand to hear from you, Theobald, but there must be a reason for this call.” The children, who were listening in on the ‘phone loudspeaker could hardy stop from giggling when they heard the Prof called ‘Theobald.’ Why that should be funny they didn’t know; it just was.

  The Prof ignored their obvious amusement and went on, “Indeed there is a very good reason for my call,” he said. “Have you still got that great Sunderland flying boat you restored?”

  “That I have,” said San
dy. “In fact, I was enjoying myself checking it over when I was interrupted by your ‘phone call.”

  “So it’s still operational then?” asked the Prof.

  “Oh, aye. Pretty well ready for immediate service.”

  “What about a long sea crossing? Could it handle that? My assistants, who, I should say, are listening–in on this call, and I need to get to Greenland as a matter of the utmost urgency. Is that possible?”

  Sandy assured the listening team that even such a long flight might well be possible but suggested that it would be helpful if he was told the whole story.

  The explanation of their concerns about Cosmo Querulous and the outline of their plans took some time. So it was a long but ultimately a very satisfactory conversation. It was agreed that Sandy would need a week or so to prepare and equip the flying boat for a long flight but that the Prof and children would need that time anyway to assemble all their equipment and clothing and supplies for the cold climate of Greenland.

  In the days that followed there were many more long ’phone calls as final details were sorted out. In particular, the team soon realised that they would not be able to transport all their equipment up to Loch Kilgardie easily by car or train. Use of the gypsy caravan for such a long journey was out of the question and certainly an impossible journey for the faithful old Toby to tackle. Sandy pointed out that the only option was to bring the flying boat closer to them. He suggested Lake Windermere in the Lake District, where the original Sunderland flying boats had been built. However, that was still much too far from the Prof’s place. Finally, after special permission was secured by Sandy from old friends at the Air Ministry, it was agreed that he could land on Grafton Water, a deep lake not far from Frimpton. The great advantage was that Toby and the gypsy caravan could easily make that journey.

  In the end it was just over a week and after many such telephone conversations, before all the plans were firmly in place and a time fixed to meet up at Grafton Water. Not that any time was wasted. A full day was spent rummaging through chests in the loft for the cold-weather clothing the Prof had used on earlier expeditions. To these were added a supply of modern Arctic clothing for the children, sent by special delivery from a mountaineering shop in London.

  The final job was packing all the equipment into the gypsy caravan ready for transportation to Grafton Water. The final boxes were loaded by tea-time on the day before the date agreed to rendezvous with Sandy. It would be a very early start next day, so the children went to bed straight after tea. Ella was soon fast asleep but Jay and Tim in their shared room were too excited to settle down straight away.

  “Why don’t you just bore me to sleep with some of your facts,” suggested Jay.

  Tim, ignoring the implied insult, readily took up the suggestion. “I’ll tell you what animals we might encounter in the Arctic,” he said, thumbing through the index of his encyclopaedia. “Let me see; ‘Arctic fox’, page 16, ‘musk ox’, page 172, ‘narwhal’, page 217. I think I’ll start with that.” He flicked through the pages. “Oh yes, this is very interesting. Apparently…”

  But Jay didn’t hear any more. He was fast asleep.

  CHAPTER 17

  When the alarm went at 5.30 a.m., it got a very mixed reaction. Tim hit it with the encyclopaedia which was still lying on his duvet and then he and Jay buried their heads back under the bed clothes. But not for long. There was a loud knock on the bedroom door and then Ella burst in, already dressed. Chip rushed in behind, clearly feeling that this was the best time to get up every morning. When the boys at last stirred, prompted by Chip bounding on top of them, they had to agree that it was the perfect summer morning, with the sunlight already filtering through the curtains.

  After a good breakfast, Ella helped Mr. Stiggles feed and harness Toby whilst the boys and the Prof finished loading up the caravan with their luggage and the equipment from the laboratory. When all was on board they hitched up Toby and just after 6.45 a.m. they made their way out of the gates of ‘The Cedars’. Mr. Stiggles took the reins for the journey to Grafton Water, whilst the children, Chip and the Prof walked alongside to ease the load for Toby.

  The early morning mist had not quite cleared from Grafton Water as Toby hauled the caravan to rest at the lake shore. A slight breeze sent ripples over the broad expanse of water and apart from the gentle plash of the ripples reaching the shore and the calls of the water-birds in the reeds, all was quiet.

  Ella unhitched Toby and led him to some lush grass by the lake side. Jay and Tim helped the Prof and Mr. Stiggles unload the caravan, stacking everything carefully along a wooden jetty that jutted out into the lake. By the time this work was completed, the mist had fully cleared and the lake shimmered in the early morning sun. Chip seemed to realise that something important was happening but he did not realise that he was not included in this particular adventure. As in the case of Charlie the chameleon, to whom Tim had said a fond farewell that morning, the general view had been that Chip was not well equipped for the conditions of the Arctic Circle. Not that Chip, even had he known he was excluded, would have dwelt much on the point when there was the present excitement of ducks to chase. Once all the unloading was completed, the rest of the team sat on the packing cases carefully scanning the horizon above the far end of the lake.

  After twenty minutes of watching and waiting, Jay suddenly exclaimed, “I think I can hear it!”

  Everyone listened intently and then Tim and Ella agreed that they could hear a faint drone which slowly got louder. The children stared into the sky towards the sound for a short while, then they all shouted out together as they spotted a faint speck in the distance. The speck, which glinted in the morning sun, gradually got larger as they watched. The sound became stronger and soon the steady throbbing drone of an approaching aircraft was clear to the adults too. A few moments later, as everyone peered into the shimmering sky above the lake, the distinct shape of Squadron Leader McDoon’s restored flying boat could clearly be seen. Gradually the plane appeared larger and larger over the horizon as it approached and dropped down towards the lake. Then as they watched, hardly daring to breathe, it splashed down at the far end of the lake and hurtled across the water towards them. Fountains of water sprayed out on either side as the plane approached them with a deafening roar as the powerful engines were throttled back. With a spluttering final roar it came to a standstill, settled lower in the water and then taxied towards them, coming to rest alongside the jetty.

  The pilot waved from the cockpit then disappeared from view as he made his way to the cargo door at the side of the aeroplane. The door then slid open and the lanky figure of Sandy McDoon emerged. He jumped down to the jetty and then helped out a second, figure – his wife, Jeannie, acting navigator. She was a tiny figure in comparison with Sandy, not much taller than Jay and Tim and wrapped up in a flying jacket with a leather flying-helmet. Everyone exchanged enthusiastic greetings, the Prof pumping Sandy’s hand vigorously. The boys helped set up a ramp from the cargo door to the jetty and for the next half hour everyone was involved in loading the piles of equipment.

  At last all was safely stowed away. Ella helped Mr. Stiggles hitch Toby back up to the caravan and then gave them both a hug of goodbye. Chip was nowhere to be seen. He had no doubt dashed off when the plane had first roared across the water towards them, thinking, perhaps, that this ‘metal bird’ would be more of a challenge than the ducks he had been chasing all morning. But Mr. Stiggles promised to search the lakeside to find him and put him securely in the, now empty, caravan for the journey back to the house.

  Everyone then clambered up into the flying boat. They strapped themselves into their seats and Mrs. McDoon checked that all their seat belts were secure. Then Sandy started the engines and taxied to the end of the lake to give them the full length for the take-off. The roar of the engines increased as Sandy pushed the lever to full throttle and the flying boat started to move forward.

  The children could feel the plane vibrate as it cut through th
e water, thumping along faster and faster as the engines roared louder and louder. Suddenly the vibrations stopped and they realised they were rising from the water. The great flying boat was airborne. It circled above the lake as it rose and the children craned their necks to look out of the port-hole windows. Far below they could see Toby and the caravan and Mr. Stiggles waving his cap in the air and getting smaller and smaller as the plane climbed higher. In a matter of moments they were high up in the sky. Even the caravan was now out of sight and the roads and houses looked tiny, like a toy set.

  The sunshine seemed brighter as they climbed higher still. Jay looked at Ella and Tim. They all knew they were on an important mission. It was serious stuff but it was also very thrilling. Everyone had a broad grin of excitement and anticipation. They were on their way to Greenland!

  CHAPTER 18

  Once the flying boat was on a steady course, Jeannie McDoon emerged from a tiny cabin just behind the cockpit. This was her domain as navigator and it housed the radio and charts for the journey. She helped everyone unbuckle their seat belts and then suggested that Jay go forward into the cockpit to keep Sandy company whilst she and Tim made drinks and consulted the charts for the journey.

  In the cockpit, Jay sat in the co-pilot’s seat as Squ. Ldr. McDoon explained the basic functions of the vast array of dials, switches and indicators. Through the windscreen and side windows Jay could make out the landscape below and as they chatted the brown and green countryside gave way to sea as they passed over long white lines of surf and out over the ocean. Soon there was nothing but the grey-blue sea stretching to the far horizon.

  “Now we are really on our way,” said Squ. Ldr. McDoon. “Next stop Iceland to top up with fuel so that we can search far along the Greenland coast. Plenty of sea before then though!”

  As they flew on, Jay could see the occasional ship, tiny from this distance but trailing a white streak behind as it ploughed through the Atlantic waters.