by John
The pirates, who were determined to get hold of him…
Blackbeard, who looked about as mad as I’ve ever seen anyone…
Captain Trueblood, who had his eyes on the Sword of Columbus, as though it was the most precious thing in the world…
And me, because I was suddenly afraid that we were in the worst mess ever…
Then everything started happening at once.
Blackbeard rushed at Henry waving a very large cutlass. Captain Trueblood stood there as if his feet were glued to the deck, his eyes almost popping out of his head.
Then Henry did something very silly. He raised the Sword of Columbus and swung it at the pirate captain.
Blackbeard turned the blow aside as easily as if a wasp had tried to sting him. Henry fell backwards and the sword flew from his hand, curving into the air, where it seemed to hang still for a moment.
Henry somehow recovered his footing, jumped up onto the rail of the ship, and caught the sword as it fell, holding it up triumphantly.
Captain Trueblood, finally released from his rooted-to-the-spot state, gave a desperate high-pitched cry and leapt at HH, closely followed by Blackbeard.
They all arrived at exactly the same moment, and for a second I saw all three locked together in a kind of mad bundle with too many arms and legs. Then, just as quickly, they were gone. A loud splash followed, and everyone, prisoners and pirates alike, forgot they were enemies and rushed to the rail to look down.
All we could see was a spreading circle of ripples where the two men and Henry Hunter had hit the water.
MYSTERIES OF THE DEEP
I don’t know how long I stood there, watching the ripples vanish as the surface of the water returned to flat calm. No one said anything. Half of me wanted to jump in after them, but the sensible half reminded me that I was not a great swimmer and that there could be sharks… I knew Henry was a strong swimmer and so I waited, expecting to see his head break the surface at any moment.
When it didn’t and the seconds dragged on into minutes, I began to feel like every bit of me had turned to lead. There was no way I could believe Henry had gone, that I might never see him again. Henry always had a solution for any situation and this time could not possibly be different.
And as it happened I had other things to think about anyway. Everyone on Destiny’s Wyrd had.
Because, as you will have probably worked out, as soon as the Sword of Columbus vanished into the sea, everything the object had been holding together began to disintegrate. Both the cursed pirates – and the ship.
The first to go were the crew. I turned to see Caraway literally dissolving. He had a surprised look on his face – his face being the last thing to disappear as the rest of him slowly faded away. I caught sight of Cyrus Firestone, with a triumphant grin on his face, putting his fist right through Pockmark as he too simply melted away. Jake, who had recovered from Blackbeard’s blow, tried to swing his iron fist at another man and it went right though him.
One by one, the pirates vanished before our eyes.
Within minutes of the sword going over the side the entire crew had disappeared. I suddenly panicked. Surely the ship would follow suit. I looked up and saw the sails beginning to dissolve, followed by the masts. The deck itself began to feel strangely spongy under my feet and in places I could see right through it.
“Quick!” I shouted as loudly as I could to my fellow prisoners – although of course we were prisoners no more. “The ship is dissolving. We need to get to the Spinnaker!”
People began running in every direction at once, falling over each other, yelling and screaming. At least they seemed a lot less dazed now – I guessed because the curse had been lifted. A couple of people tried to grab hold of bits of the ship, only to find themselves clutching nothing but thin air as the timbers turned to dust.
I couldn’t get to the Spinnaker in time. I felt the cold knife of the water as I fell into the ocean, and began paddling about desperately. I couldn’t keep this up for long – I could just about doggy paddle, but as I’ve said before, I’m really not a great swimmer.
As the last of us fell into the water, Destiny’s Wyrd faded out of existence. But I couldn’t even feel relief. I was in the middle of the ocean, and numb at the loss of Henry Hunter.
The crew of the Spinnaker, who seemed to have been hiding below deck (who could blame them?), suddenly appeared on board the yacht. Seeing what was going on, they began to throw lifebelts down to us. I managed to grab one and waited as they lowered a small boat down and started hauling people on board as fast as they could.
Soon we were all aboard the yacht, being wrapped in blankets and offered mugs of steaming hot cocoa.
The shock of being plunged into the sea and then rescued had removed any last traces of whatever it was that had kept the prisoners dazed and confused. All around me they were demanding to know what was going on and where they were. All I could do was cling to the rail of the deck and stare down into the sea at the spot where Henry Hunter, Blackbeard and Captain Trueblood had vanished.
I knew that no human being could hold his or her breath this long. Not even Henry Hunter. Somehow I had to come to terms with the fact that my best friend was not coming back – that I would never see him again.
I was about to turn sadly away when I noticed a long trail of bubbles rising to the surface of the sea.
What happened next is as about as weird as anything I’ve ever experienced in my adventures with Henry Hunter. In fact, it’s so strange that among those on the Spinnaker who happened to be looking overboard there are two very different versions. One is what the recently released prisoners from the ghost ship, and the crew of the Spinnaker claimed they saw, the other is what yours truly, Dolf Pringle, will always believe I saw.
Some people say that what surfaced was an elaborately carved ship’s dinghy, which had probably been sitting on the bed of the sea for a while, and that all the kerfuffle with the ghost ship and people falling overboard had somehow freed it.
What I saw was this.
The stream of bubbles heralded the appearance of the strangest-looking vehicle I had ever seen. I say ‘vehicle’ because there really isn’t a word for what emerged from the depths of the ocean. The nearest thing I can compare it to is a Roman chariot, like the ones they used in that famous race scene from the old classic movie Ben Hur. Except that this one looked as if it was made of fish bones – huge, white fish bones, carved with all kinds of fancy designs. It literally shot out on the water, hovered for a second, then splashed back down and settled on the surface.
But it wasn’t that which took my breath away. It was the sight of Henry Hunter standing in the middle of it!
Henry waved cheerfully to me and in moments he was climbing aboard the Spinnaker, as the chariot (or whatever it was) disappeared back into the ocean.
I have to admit that I rushed over to HH and hugged him like we hadn’t seen each other in years. A bit embarrassing, I know, but there you are.
This of course meant the former prisoners and the Spinnaker’s crew began asking even more questions. Then I realised something. Captain Trueblood had not reappeared. I examined the ocean. No bubbles.
Henry saw me staring at the waves. He shook his head. “I don’t think the Captain will be joining us, Dolf,” he said. “I think he’s found a new home – with Davy Jones.”
Much like everyone around me I was bursting with questions – the most important being how Henry had survived his plunge into the ocean and what on earth was that thing he had been standing in. I looked back down over the side of the yacht and for a moment I thought I saw it again, drifting down to the seabed. I thought I saw something else, too: a face, framed by long green-gold hair, with big blue eyes that stared back at me. Then it was gone.
At this moment Iron Jake came over and clapped Henry on the back “Nice goin’, boys,” he said. Then, grinning at me, he added: “See – told yer mermaids were real!”
I had to wait a while before
I could hear Henry’s account of what happened after he fell overboard. I guessed he didn’t want to tell everyone, so I didn’t ask until we were alone. The rescued prisoners took a long time to settle down and the crew of the Spinnaker seemed not to know what to do without their captain. Finally the first mate, Thomas, who turned out to be a reasonable sort of bloke who admitted he had never been happy with what his boss was getting up to, took over as acting captain. He gave orders to the crew to make the prisoners comfortable for the night and the Spinnaker got under way.
Henry and I found a quiet corner in one of the swanky staterooms.
“So what happened?” I demanded.
Henry looked at me, his eyes deep and serious. “To be honest, I can’t quite work it all out myself, but here’s what I do know. As soon as we hit the water, Blackbeard began to melt away, just as we’d thought.”
I nodded. “That’s exactly what happened to the crew and the boat – they fell to pieces.”
Henry looked as though he was going to ask me for a more detailed account, then he saw the look on my face and continued with his own tale.
“That left Trueblood with the sword. Not that it did him much good, of course, as he kept sinking deeper into the sea. It looked like the sword was pulling him down, but he was too mad with greed to let go of it. I was tangled up with him too. I tried to get away, but Trueblood was dragging me down.”
Henry paused.
“Er… well, to be honest, Dolf, I’m not sure what actually did happen next. I could say that I found myself able to breathe underwater and that… someone… came and picked me up… But everything gets a bit vague from then on.”
Now if you knew Henry Hunter as well as I do you’d know that he’s never this vague. And I mean never.
“So let me get this straight,” I said, trying not to look too disbelieving. “You sank to the bottom of the sea and found you could breathe underwater and then someone came and… and what, exactly?”
“Well, if you’ll believe me, I was taken by… some kind of sea people. They seemed to be waiting for me. And for Trueblood. He was looking dazed and pale, and they led him away, but put me into that chariot thing and sent me back up,” Henry concluded.
I stared at him, wondering if the experience had sent him crazy.
Henry shrugged and then gave me his biggest grin. “Like I told you, Dolf,” he said, flicking back the hair from his eyes, “you can’t say something didn’t happen or doesn’t exist till you’ve seen it for yourself.”
I thought of the face I had glimpsed in the water and shook my head. None of what Henry told me made any sense – unless you believe in sea people and mermaids and stuff, but sometimes things are just like that – especially when you hang around with Henry Hunter.
I still don’t know what to believe. That day, Henry showed me a piece of carved bone. Narwhale’s tusk, he said it was. I examined it, taking in the most amazingly detailed pictures engraved on its surface. “It’s called scrimshaw work, Dolf. Old sailors used to spend their time carving this kind of thing when they had nothing else to do. I picked it up from the seabed.”
I’ve got it here with me now. It’s pretty worn, but the pictures seem to show a city of some kind, which is pretty obviously meant to be under the sea. There are some strange-looking people on it too, with long flowing hair and flipper-like legs, apparently swimming around, but I can’t be sure if I’m really seeing them properly. Don’t ask me what it means, or if Henry really did visit the sea people – and especially don’t ask me if I saw a mermaid. I can’t tell you.
Later on we spoke briefly about it with Iron Jake. When he heard Henry’s version of what had happened he gave us both a strange look. “Tis easy enough told. You was taken by the Sea People. They knows a thing or two down below. They knew about them cursed pirates and their kind, and they were ready and waitin’ for you as well. As to Cap’n Teach – I’ve no doubt he’s entertainin’ Davy Jones hi’self right now. I’m not sure about that nasty old Trueblood fella, but I’m sure we won’t be seeing him again. And good riddance is what I say.”
It took a while to sort out everything once we got back to port. The authorities had to be brought in, of course, but they seemed unconcerned by tales of cursed pirates and ghostly ships. All they were really interested in was that Captain Trueblood had broken the law in all kinds of ways by kidnapping people to help him look for treasure. That was clearly the only version of the story they were going to believe, but since there was no sign of Nathan Trueblood there was no one to prosecute. At least all the former prisoners could return home. That was all we’d ever wanted, anyway – to find Charlie’s parents and bring them back home.
The crew of the Spinnaker were let off with fines since there was no real evidence that any of them had caused any physical harm to the captives and they had been following Captain Trueblood’s orders. the Spinnaker was impounded and then sold to help pay compensation to those who had been captured. Most of them, in fact, seemed to have forgotten about what really happened and, thanks to a few helpful words from Iron Jake, were convinced that modern-day pirates had kidnapped them. It was probably best that way.
One more surprise was waiting for us when we docked at Bridgetown. For once it was a pleasant one. There, on the dock, was a large figure with a bandage wrapped around his head. It was Joe.
None of us could quite believe it – Jake least of all. He pounded the huge man on the back until I thought he would knock him into the sea again. We learned that the Moby Dick had actually survived its run-in with the monster wave and was even now sitting in dry dock awaiting repairs. Joe had managed to cling onto a rope as the old tug almost capsized, and despite being banged about a good deal (hence the bandage) he had climbed back on board the Moby and piloted her back most of the way home, finally being picked up by a passing cruise ship and towed back to harbour. I couldn’t be sure what pleased Iron Jake the most, the fact that his old friend was alive or that his ship had survived – but in any case he could not stop beaming at everyone. Henry made him smile even more hugely when he promised to pay for the repairs to the Moby Dick. As he said: “After all, you never did get any of that treasure, so it’s the least we can do.”
The old sailor looked really quite sad to see us go in the end, though he muttered something about “Finally getting a bit o’ peace an’ quiet in me old age.” Then he winked his good eye at us and added, “But if you’re ever in these parts again, don’t forget to look me up.”
Once we were safely back at the hotel we found that Charlie Stevens had flown out to Barbados to be reunited with his parents on receiving the news that they were alive and well. I imagined Cousin Jack, back home in England, must have been feeling a bit stupid, having given up looking for them far too easily. I think he’d meant well enough, not wanting to give Charlie hope where there might not be any. Of course Charlie was over the moon to have his parents back and couldn’t stop thanking us.
Before we all went our separate ways Mr Stevens took us aside.
“You know I can’t say thank you enough times, boys,” he said. “It’s been a pretty traumatic six months – but at least I finally know what it feels like to find pirate gold.” I thought I saw a twinkle in his eyes as he shook our hands.
Which just goes to show – not everyone forgot what really happened.
That’s pretty much all there is to say about the adventure of the cursed pirates. But there’s one other thing that I haven’t yet explained. You see, HH has gone missing. No one has seen him since he vanished on a normal morning in May. No note. No clue as to where he might have gone. His parents organised a huge international search, but it failed to turn up anything. And I’m worried. Really worried. Everyone has given up looking, it seems – apart from me. He’s got to be out there somewhere – maybe he’s been kidnapped without a ransom but I’m not going to give up on him, any more than he gave up on Charlie’s parents.
I’m looking at the piece of carved Narwhal tusk that Henry brought ba
ck from the deep, lying on my desk. I can’t help wondering if it has anything to tell me about where my friend is right now. Did you notice any clues in this story? Please tell me if you did, because I’m not going to stop looking till I find out what happened to him. I’ll keep searching through the Henry Hunter Files until I get him back – there must be some clues in our adventures somewhere…
AUTHOR’S NOTE & ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Every book seems to stack up a bigger and bigger heap of thanks to all those who helped and offered support. This story from the Henry Hunter Files is no exception. Huge thanks go, as always, to my three most faithful readers: my wife Caitlin, who kept saying ‘Tell me more’ and suggested a brilliant title change; our son Emrys, who advised on the kinds of things twelve-year-old boys might say; and Ari Berk, who cheerfully read the first draft and told me it was going in the right direction.
Thanks also to Dwina Murphy-Gibb for letting me steal bits of The Prebendal (not to mention the dogs) for Charlie Stevens’ home; and to my old mate Mark Ryan, whose own piratical exploits in the TV show Black Sails are already legendary. Nor can I fail to give a big cheer to Amanda Wood at Templar for giving me the chance to explore so many obsessions through the writing of the Henry Hunter books. My editors, Emma Goldhawk and Tilda Johnson, not to mention the amazing Catherine Coe, copy-editor extraordinaire, kept me firmly on track and suggested some crucial amendments. Finally, not for the first time, I want to acknowledge the inspiration of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. A visit to the set of On Stranger Tides re-inspired me at a point when I needed it. Thanks to all – especially Mike Stenson – for a great day.
I had fun re-creating the bits of the Caribbean where most of the story takes place, though I occasionally played fast and loose with some of the locations in order to make them work. There really is a museum of piracy similar to the one described here, but it’s on the wonderful island of Nassau, not Barbados. As far as I know there are no suspicious people hanging about there (though you never know), and it doesn’t have a basement with skeletons. If you ever get a chance to go it’s well worth a visit. Other than this all the facts about pirates that Henry talks about in the book are real. Blackbeard really lived, of course, and was every bit as nasty as described. His last command was not called Destiny’s Wyrd, however, but the Queen Ann’s Revenge. As to what happened to his treasure… that’s another story.
