Blackwells and the Briny Deep

by Philippa Dowding

  Strange, seaweed-covered hands holding a conch shell.

  Then … the marine radio in the cabin suddenly crackled!

  “Peregrine, Peregrine, Peregrine, this is DaddyOne. Please report, over.” The three Blackwells jumped. They hardly ever used the marine radio, since they had a cellphone, but William always turned on the radio at the beginning of every voyage. It was marine tradition and the law. To hear their father’s voice suddenly out of nowhere was a bit weird.

  “I forgot to text him!” William moaned. “Jonah, grab the radio. Tell him we’re under way.” William frowned. How could I forget? It was because of losing Emma’s shell! But what kind of captain forgets to send an important radio message?

  Jonah scampered down the ladder into the cabin and grabbed the radio microphone. “DaddyOne, DaddyOne, DaddyOne, this is Peregrine. We’re under sail, over,” Jonah said. The radio crackled again.

  “Peregrine, Peregrine, Peregrine, this is DaddyOne. What’s your ETA, over?”

  Jonah looked at William, who looked at his watch. “Tell him estimated time of arrival is midafternoon.” Jonah nodded. “DaddyOne, DaddyOne, DaddyOne, Peregrine ETA at the dock is midafternoon, over.”

  “Peregrine, Peregrine, Peregrine, have a good sail. See you soon. DaddyOne out.”

  The radio went quiet, and the three sailors went back to sailing, sulking, and watching.

  They sailed along for another hour.

  Soon Peregrine was all alone, out of sight of land, in the middle of the bay.

  “I’m hungry!” William announced finally. “Emma, come and steer.” He climbed down into the cabin and handed out cheese sandwiches and water from the food cooler.

  They ate in silence as the boat sailed along.

  And again, for a long time, nothing happened. Jonah sat on the cabin, not looking at Emma. William steered. Emma looked out to sea with the binoculars. The boat moved gently through the water …

  … then three things happened at once.

  Emma saw something through the binoculars. A trail of bubbles headed toward Peregrine.

  “What’s that?” she said, standing up and pointing. Something was swimming toward the boat. It looks like a dolphin, she thought.

  William suddenly noticed a dark, thin line of clouds on the horizon. “A storm’s brewing,” he said at the same time.

  And then Jonah shouted, “LOOK! A SHIP!”

  “What the …” William whispered.

  Jonah was right! An enormous ship with ragged black sails appeared out of nowhere. A tattered crew ran back and forth along the deck.

  A moment before, the horizon had been empty.

  “Where’d that come from?” William yelled. Jonah ran to the bow to get a better look at the ship. The sun had disappeared behind a thick, dark cloud. William was right; a storm was brewing. And fast.

  “It’s a brigantine!” Jonah yelled. “They don’t make ships like that anymore! It must be two hundred years old!”

  “More like three hundred,” William said in disbelief.

  The huge ship bore down on them, much closer than it had been a second before. The ship rocked and dove into a rolling sea. The ragged crew ran across the deck, trying to get the ship under control. The torn sails flapped in the wind.

  Smoke curled from the sails.

  The huge ship was on fire!

  For a moment the Blackwells were too surprised to do anything but stare.

  “Emma, the binoculars, quick!” Emma handed them over. William searched along the ship. Sailors ran frantically across the deck. Loose and torn sails flapped in a high wind.

  But all in silence.

  William scanned the ship and lingered on a horrifying wooden carving, the ship’s figurehead at the bow: it was a shrieking mermaid! He read the ship’s name carved across the stern: The Mermaid Queen.

  The burning ship moved fast, faster than it should. It was moving so fast, it was going to hit them!

  William swallowed hard. “Both of you, quick, ready-about!”

  Emma threw off the foresail sheet and William turned the wheel so Peregrine’s bow crossed the wind. The foresail flapped, then Jonah pulled the sail across the boat and tied it down tight. Peregrine shot out to sea, away from the burning ship.

  The Blackwells got their sailboat out of danger.

  “Emma, go below and radio the coast guard! Tell them an old ship, The Mermaid Queen, is out here, on fire!” William yelled.

  Emma was about to scramble down the ladder into the cabin to use the radio …

  … when Jonah shouted, “But William, it’s gone!”

  CHAPTER THREE

  STORM-AGEDDON

  The Blackwells stared.

  Jonah was right. The Mermaid Queen WAS gone. The horizon was empty. They were all alone, except for a dolphin that leapt high into the air then vanished below the waves.

  William turned in a circle in the cockpit. He swept the binoculars across the sea.

  Nothing.

  “But where did the ship go? It was right there!” Jonah said. William handed the binoculars back to Emma. He looked really worried.

  “Well, it’s gone now,” he said quietly. Big, black clouds were closer. The ugly storm was heading their way.

  “But what was that? That ship almost cut us in half!” Jonah demanded.

  “I don’t know, but it didn’t hit us. And it’s gone now, so let’s try to forget it,” William said. He struggled to keep his voice calm. Even in the few moments since the burning ship vanished, the storm was closer, the waves wilder, the wind higher.

  “How exactly are we going to forget it, William? We just saw a three-hundred-year-old brigantine ship disappear before our eyes! And it was ON FIRE! Now there’s a storm coming!” Jonah was yelling now.

  “Look, I said it’s nothing! Leave it, Jonah!” William yelled back.

  “I know what it must have been!” Jonah said, excited. “It was a phantom ship! Dad told me about them. Sailors tell stories about them. A phantom ship is an ancient, cursed ship doomed to sail the seas forever. There one second and gone the next.”

  “Stop it, Jonah! No talk of phantoms!” William shouted.

  “It’s never a good thing when a crew sees a phantom ship! They always get caught in a storm, or shipwrecked, or both,” Jonah yelled back. The boys stood nose-to-nose. Emma got between them.

  “Stop it! Who cares about the ship? Whatever it was, it’s gone now! There’s a storm coming! We have to get ready!” she said. Her brothers stopped yelling and looked at her.

  “William, I have to tell you something,” Emma said, struggling to keep her voice calm. The wind was picking up, and Peregrine rocked and bucked in a stormy sea.

  “Unless it’s about the storm, can you tell me later?”

  Emma wanted to tell her brother about what she saw. The burning ship was weird enough. But there was the shell. The hand. But what would she say? There was something out there, holding my shell?

  And who’d believe her? She wasn’t sure she believed it herself.

  William called out orders, too busy to listen anyway. “Jonah, call Dad on our cell! Tell him we’re heading back to shore, there’s a freak storm. He should drive home and meet us there. Emma, get our rain gear!”

  Jonah jumped below into the cabin and found the cellphone. Emma ran to the hanging locker and yanked out three sets of rain gear.

  “It’s okay,” William was saying. “We’ll get wet, that’s all. We’ve been through storms before.” What he didn’t say? We’ve been through storms with DAD before. Never with just ME in charge.

  He heard Jonah leave a message for their father and then argue with Emma.

  “Jonah, where’s Dad?” William yelled over the rising wind.

  “He didn’t answer! I left a message,” Jonah called up the ladder.

  “Well, try the radio!” Jonah picked up the radio microphone, but there was no crackle. He flipped the switch on and off a few times.

  “It’s not working! I think the b
attery’s dead!”

  William zipped his lifejacket over his rain gear. He fought a rising panic. No captain wants to face a terrible storm without a battery. He took a deep breath. He had to keep calm for his brother and sister.

  “The battery is probably fine. The storm just knocked out the radio. Call Dad every minute on the cell until he answers,” William shouted above the wind. “Emma, come and help me navigate!”

  Jonah called their father. Emma called out the degrees on the compass. William had to get the right heading to get them back to their harbour. There was no land, nothing to see or steer by, just dark water and darker clouds.

  Then the storm hit.

  Rain lashed their faces. Huge waves tossed them from side to side, soaking them. The wind howled and raged, and there was no sky, only clouds and darkness. The spray from the waves broke over the side of the boat, and the three sailors slipped and struggled, trying not to lose their footing.

  There is nothing fun about being on a ship in a storm at sea. Stories are told about shipwrecks and dangerous storms, which are great listening if you’re warm and cozy and safely on land in front of a fireplace at home.

  They are much less fun if you are actually in one.

  And the Blackwells were in a monster of a storm.

  William fought the wind, trying to keep Peregrine on course. Emma yelled out the compass headings.

  Every minute, Jonah called their father. Suddenly, a huge crack of thunder and blaze of lightning flashed overhead, and then the cellphone didn’t work.

  No battery, no radio. And now, no cellphone.

  “William! Start the motor!” Jonah yelled. William nodded. Why hadn’t he thought of that? As he leaned down to start the motor, a huge wave smacked the ship sideways, and Peregrine flooded with water. The motor handle snapped off in William’s hand.

  Emma, Jonah, and William looked at each other. For a moment the good ship teetered, then righted.

  No motor, either.

  “The sea anchor!” William yelled. “Jonah, we’re rolling! Grab the sea anchor!” Jonah scrambled to a locker. He tied a long line to the stern and the other end to a green bag and then tossed the bag overboard. The bag opened like a huge parachute, then sank below the waves.

  It worked. As soon as the sea anchor hit the water, Peregrine stopped bucking and tossing. But a moment later, the next disaster!

  RIPPPP!

  With horror, the three sailors watched their foresail tear in half.

  “The jib!” William yelled. The torn sail whipped madly back and forth, and Peregrine leaned hard over, closer and closer to the water.

  “Jonah! Emma! Take the wheel together! I have to drop the sail! It’s taking us over!”

  “William! Leave it!” Emma yelled into the wind. She did NOT want William to run up to the front of the boat. But he was already halfway up the deck, crouched low, holding on to the handrail. The wind blew his hair in a mad dance, the water whipped into his face.

  Emma could barely see him through the spray.

  “William! Tie yourself to the lifeline!” she yelled. She saw him struggle with a line for a moment. Ahead of him, the torn sail flapped wildly. It tugged Peregrine closer and closer to the water. They could tip right over!

  “Emma, help me!” Jonah yelled. Emma grabbed the wheel beside her brother and together they held the boat as steady as they could. The big steering wheel tossed them like rag dolls in the vicious wind. Wave after wave crashed over William, and water filled the cockpit. Emma and Jonah were up to their ankles in water, trying hard not to slip. The scuppers gurgled with water. It sounded like drowning.

  “We’re sinking!” Emma cried.

  “NO!” Jonah shouted. Emma peered through the streaming rain.

  Where was William? An enormous wave crashed onto the deck … and he was GONE!

  “WILLIAM!” Emma screamed into the storm. For a second, Jonah and Emma looked at an empty deck.

  Their brother was just washed overboard!

  Emma and Jonah would talk about that moment for the rest of their lives. Storm, blackness, no motor, no radio, no cellphone, a ripped sail … and their older brother washed away into the briny deep.

  But at the time, in the teeth of the terrible storm, they did the only thing they could: they held on.

  “WILLIAM! WILLIAM!” Emma screamed into the wind. With one hand, Jonah scooped the life-ring from its holder, ready to toss to William if he surfaced.

  Then … a hand appeared over the bow! And a second hand. Then William’s head popped up over the front of the boat.

  The lifeline had saved him!

  William dragged himself onto the deck and collapsed in a gasping heap. A moment later, he reached up and dragged the torn sail down. He tied it tight, then slowly crawled back to the cockpit.

  The three Blackwells stood together, clutching the wheel between them, as their sailboat bucked and danced in the waves.

  The storm raged.

  And still they sailed on.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  FINN

  All storms eventually blow themselves out.

  As Peregrine sailed on and on, the winds slowly dropped. The waves fell.

  The Blackwells were all asleep in the cockpit. Jonah lay on a bench. Emma lay on the cockpit floor. William was slumped over the wheel.

  Peregrine and her sleeping crew drifted with the waves.

  A thick, white fog rolled in. Soon the boat was a little island in the middle of a vast, silent ocean of fog. The cloud settled upon the water all around them.

  The sailors were so still, anyone watching might think they were … enchanted.

  Suddenly a dolphin leapt near the boat. Or something that was sort of like a dolphin. Then a row of bubbles headed toward Peregrine. Two long, skinny hands grasped the railing, hands with slender fingers that dripped with seaweed.

  A creature pulled itself onto the ship.

  It was a boy. Or something boy-like, anyway.

  He was tall and strong, but ribs showed below his ragged shirt. He wore old-fashioned pantaloons, torn at the knees. A shock of black hair tumbled across his face and shoulders, tangled with seaweed and starfish. In fact, seaweed wrapped around him, across his shoulders, down his arms. His feet and hands were long, much too long. Too long for his body.

  He stepped into the cockpit and stood over the sleeping Blackwells.

  A tattoo leapt along the boy’s arm: Finn.

  Finn crept first to William. He bent low and listened to the captain’s slow breathing. Then Finn took something from his pocket — something green — and tucked it into William’s mouth.

  Finn crept next to Jonah, bent low, and listened. Again, Finn took something green from his pocket and tucked it onto Jonah’s tongue. In his sleep, Jonah screwed up his eyes and mumbled, “Ew!”

  But he didn’t wake.

  Then Finn reached out and gently moved Emma’s hair out of her eyes. She stirred, so he plucked a piece of the green — whatever it was — and placed it on Emma’s tongue. She screwed up her face but didn’t wake. Then he reached behind his back and softly laid something beside her.

  A gift.

  Then lightning fast, he shimmied up the mast. At the top, he stared at Peregrine’s bright red ensign.

  With a tug, he took it, and tied the red flag to his belt.

  Then Finn, that strange boy from the sea — if he was a boy — dove from the mast, straight into the deep, black water below. Anyone watching, had anyone been awake, would have thought they saw a change in Finn as he hit the water.

  They might have said he was more fish-like, certainly with hands and feet almost, well, like fins. They might have watched in astonishment as Finn surfaced and leapt into the air, then back into the water.

  Because they would have seen a dolphin. Or something much like one, anyway.

  But no one on board Peregrine saw a thing. They slept and slept, while the thick fog rolled around them.

  And still Peregrine drifted on.

>   CHAPTER FIVE

  SEAWEED AND FOGHORN

  Emma opened her eyes first. The sound of the flapping main sail woke her. She lay face up in a pool of water in the cockpit.

  She sat up.

  Then she screwed up her face and pulled something out of her mouth.

  EW! Seaweed? How did I get seaweed in my MOUTH?

  The next second, Jonah sat up. And pulled seaweed from his mouth.

  “Yuck! Seaweed?” He tossed the seaweed over the side of the boat.

  Then William stirred and sat up. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. Then he screwed up his face and spat a piece of seaweed onto his palm.

  He looked at it in wonder.

  “What? How did that …?” He looked at his brother and sister. Amazed, he tossed the seaweed overboard.

  The three of them stretched awake.

  “Why is it so foggy?” Emma asked, looking around.

  “And so still?” Jonah asked. They were right. The air was a thick, white cloud. It was eerie and quiet. They could only see the still, dark water right around the boat. There was nothing else but thick, muffled whiteness. There was no wind. Not a breath. Sailors call it “becalmed.”

  “Are you both all right?” William asked, standing up. The twins nodded.

  “What’s that?” Jonah pointed to something beside Emma. She stared at it then gently picked it up.

  “A conch shell? But how did that get there?” She looked at her brothers, bewildered.

  “How?” she demanded again. Jonah and William both looked surprised.

  “It can’t be yours, Emma,” William finally said. “It just happens to be a shell that looks like it. Maybe it got washed in with a wave? It’s strange, though. Maybe it’s finally some good luck,” he added.

  “I’m putting it below,” she said, then she climbed down into the cabin and examined the shell closely. It was exactly the same size and shape as her lost shell, but how?

  There was no way to know if it was hers. Not for sure. But … still.

  She zipped the conch into her backpack. Something very strange was happening. She had almost decided it wasn’t real, but it was hard to forget that long hand trailing seaweed, holding a shell above water. When did that happen exactly? It seemed like days ago, what with the weird burning phantom ship, the storm, and now the fog.