Captain Codswallop and the Flying Kipper

by Michael Cox

  Chapter Four

  As the customs house clock struck nine, the pirates charged out of the Dirty Duck. Captain Codswallop pushed past his men and dashed off into the darkness, shouting, ‘Last one on the Grumpy Roger’s a sissy!’

  Suddenly there was a huge splash.

  ‘Where’s the captain gone?’ cried Ginger Hale.

  There was another splash.

  ‘Where’s Ginger gone?’ cried Norris.

  There was yet another splash.

  ‘Where’s Norris gone?’ cried the rest of the crew.

  There were lots more splashes.

  ‘Where’s the Grumpy Roger gone?’ cried everyone, as they thrashed about in the icy water of the River Thames.

  Ten minutes later, the pirates were back in the Dirty Duck standing around the fire in their wet undies and shivering with cold. They were all feeling very, very miserable indeed.

  ‘We’re in a predicament now, shipmates!’ groaned Captain Codswallop. ‘No Grumpy Roger, no chests of treasure, no nothing … we’re sunk!’

  ‘It’s no good standing about feeling sorry for ourselves, cap’n,’ said Norris. ‘We’ll just have to get another boat and chase after those thieves!’

  ‘That won’t be as easy as it sounds,’ said Captain Codswallop. ‘All the boats parked round here have guards on board.’

  ‘Apart from the Grumpy Roger,’ mumbled Norris. ‘More’s the pity!’

  ‘What did you just say?’ said Captain Codswallop.

  ‘Err, “What a wicked city!”’ piped up Norris.

  ‘You can say that again!’ muttered Captain Codswallop.

  At that moment, the door of the Dirty Duck opened and a disgusting smell wafted in. It was followed by an extremely tubby man carrying a basket of rotting fish. He was wearing a floppy, leather hat, a long, greasy overcoat and a black mask, and he was shouting, ‘Get yer kippers! Get yer fish fingers! Get yer lobsters’ armpits!’

  ‘Well, bless my bulkhead and shiver my shorelines, it’s my old pal, Smelly Fisher!’ cried Captain Codswallop, hardly able to believe his eyes. ‘How you doin’ Smelly, my old fishfurter?’

  ‘I be doin’ just fine Cap’n Codswallop!’ cried Smelly. ‘Long time, no sea! Ho! Ho!’

  ‘Ho! Ho!’ laughed the captain. ‘That’s right, Smelly! Long time, no sea! Now, what’s that there mask thing you’re wearin’?’

  ‘This be a mask thing what I just found on the quayside,’ said Smelly. He stuck a crab claw in the captain’s ribs and shouted, ‘Now I be one of them there highwaymen. Stick up yer mitts and stand on yer liver! Ho! Ho! Ho!’

  ‘Ho! Ho! Ho!’ laughed Captain Codswallop, really getting into the spirit of things and throwing his arms in the air, as he pretended to be Smelly’s terrified victim.

  ‘Ho! Ho! Ho!’ shouted the pirates, all thoroughly enjoying the joke.

  ‘Ho! Ho! Ho! Got you at last, you horrid highwayman!’ shouted the queen’s Sergeant at Arms, as he and his men rushed into the Dirty Duck and pounced on Smelly.

  ‘Oh no!’ groaned Norris, as he saw what was happening.

  Then, as Captain Codswallop and his crew watched in horror and disbelief, six enormous soldiers pushed Smelly up against the wall and began to clamp him in chains.

  ‘Dick Turnip!’ roared the Sergeant at Arms. ‘Just two hours ago, you and your evil accomplice attempted to hold up a coach containing no lesser person that Her Royal Self, Queen Elizabeth I of England!’

  ‘Sergeant!’ cried Captain Codswallop, truly shocked at what was happening to his friend. ‘I swear on my grandpa’s wooden teeth! That’s not Dick Turnip. It’s my old pal, Smelly Fisher, I’ve known him for years!’

  ‘You stay out of this you interfering, old buccaneer!’ barked the Sergeant at Arms. ‘Or I’ll have you clapped in irons, too!’ Then, he turned to Smelly and said, ‘Dick Turnip, I am now arresting you in the name of Good Queen Bess! And I also demand to know the whereabouts of your horrible little brother?’

  ‘I ain’t got no blinking little brother!’ yelled Smelly. ‘I’ve only got my sister Shirley what sells seashells on the seashore!’

  ‘A likely story, Turnip!’ roared the Sergeant at Arms. ‘But no matter, we’ll soon hunt down your wicked brother and bring him to justice, too. In the meantime you will be taken to the Tower of London and brought before Her Majesty. Then, wearing your highwayman’s mask, you will be made to shout, “We’re the terrible Turnip brothers! We robs the snobs and we boffs the toffs!” And if she identifies you as one of the men who robbed her coach, you will immediately have your gimlets scrimbled! Then you will have your crottle thrimped! And finally you will be made to sit on the scrawky board! And it will jolly well serve you right. You wicked scoundrel, you!’

  ‘But … but … I’m not Dick Turnip,’ protested Smelly. ‘I be Smelly!’

  ‘Phwoar! You can say that again,’ said the soldiers, as they marched him out of the tavern.

  ‘Poor old Smelly,’ said the pirates, looking more miserable than ever. ‘Fancy him having his crottle thrimped!’

  ‘Just the thought of sitting on that blinking scrawky board makes my eyes water,’ said Ginger Hale. Then he paused and added, ‘By the way, what is a scrawky board?’

  ‘Not the foggiest!’ said the rest of the pirates, with a shrug of their shoulders.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Captain Codswallop. ‘I hope they don’t do anything really horrible to him!’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry too much,’ said Norris with a twinkle in his eye. ‘They’ll probably set him free when the queen realises he’s not a Turnip.’

  Then he sidled up to Captain Codswallop, gently elbowed him in the ribs and whispered, ‘And in the meantime, cap’n, old Smelly will be needing someone to look after his boat, won’t he?’

  ‘Norris!’ said Captain Codswallop, with a huge grin. ‘You took the words right out of my brain!’

  •

  It didn’t take the pirates long to find Smelly’s boat. They simply followed their noses to the battered, old wreck that had the words the Flying Kipper painted on the side. To their dismay, the whole boat was overflowing with fish of every shape and size. And quite a few of them were very old and very smelly!

  ‘This be it then, my hearties,’ said the captain as they clambered aboard.

  ‘Poooo! Coor! What a pong!’ groaned the pirates, sliding about on the slippery deck and holding their noses.

  ‘Surely you’re not planning to put to sea with that lot on board?’ said Norris.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Captain Codswallop. ‘They aren’t such a bad crowd when you get to know them. T’would be a shame to go without them.’

  ‘I don’t mean the pirates, cap’n. I mean the fish!’ said Norris.

  ‘Oh, I see what you mean. Well there’s no time to unload them now,’ said Captain Codswallop. ‘The sooner we catch those rascals who stole our ship … the better!’

  Chapter Five

  ‘The sooner we get to Oxford, the better!’ thought Dick Turnip as he clung to the tiller of the Grumpy Roger and watched the banks of the River Thames slide past. It was now daylight and they seemed to have covered miles. Dick hadn’t realised that sailing ships could travel so fast.

  The wind was driving the Grumpy Roger along so swiftly that his knuckles were beginning to turn white as he tried to keep it on course. Steering a pirate ship was really hard work! No matter how many times he clicked his tongue and cried, ‘Whoa, Grumpy boy! Whoa!’ Dick just couldn’t get the ship to slow down or go in a straight line. He’d even tried flicking his riding whip in an effort to make the Grumpy Roger behave. But it didn’t make the slightest bit of difference. For the last half an hour or so, the ship had been swerving wildly from one bank of the river to the other, as the farm workers in the surrounding fields dropped their hoes and watched, open-mouthed in amazement.

  Dick wouldn’t have felt quite such an idiot if the Grumpy Roger hadn’t been going backwards! But, no matter how energetically he moved the tiller, he simpl
y couldn’t get the ship to point in the right direction. And, to make matters worse, the river was now getting really, really busy. There were fishing boats returning to port with their catches, barges full of wood and coal, merchant ships loaded with silks and spices and market-bound river ferries criss-crossing the channels with their noisy cargoes of pigs, sheep and chickens.

  Dick was desperately looking over his shoulder as he frantically swung the tiller this way and that in a last-minute attempt to avoid colliding with all these rivercraft, not to mention the islands which were looming up with alarming speed. He wished his brother was around to help him keep a look out for obstacles. But the moment Nick had realised the Grumpy Roger was on the move, he’d dashed below deck like a frightened rabbit.

  Every now and again he would shout up, ‘Are we there yet?’ and Dick would reply, ‘Nearly, Nick! I’ve almost got the hang of this ship-driving lark. Once I find the reins, it’ll be a piece of cake!’

  Which wasn’t true at all. Dick wasn’t even sure they were going in the right direction. He was sure rivers were supposed to get narrower as you went inland. But this one was getting wider! And wider! After a while he couldn’t see the banks. And there seemed to be seabirds everywhere!

  Suddenly, Dick spotted a small fishing village on an island in the middle of the river. They were heading straight for it! Giving way to terror and panic, he took his hands off the tiller and covered his eyes, expecting to be smashed to smithereens at any moment! But then, to his enormous relief, he felt the Grumpy Roger begin to turn! And all at once, for the first time since they’d left Old London Town, the ship was facing in the right direction! And then it wasn’t! And then it was! And then it wasn’t!

  After a few moments of confusion, Dick realised what was happening. The Grumpy Roger was now spinning like a cork in a whirlpool! As the powerful current twirled them past the fishing village, he spotted a crowd of fisher-folk staring in amazement at his astonishing, revolving pirate ship. They were cheering and hooting with laughter but, above the sound of their shrieks and catcalls, Dick could hear a horrible groaning sound. Looking in the direction of the noise, he spotted Nick hanging over the front end of the boat. His face was as green as the paint on the Grumpy Roger’s woodwork.

  ‘I feel sick, Dick,’ he moaned. ‘Stop the ship, Dick!’

  ‘Goodness gracious me!’ yelled an old sailor on the quayside. ‘It’s a talking figurehead!’

  ‘No, I’m not!’ groaned Nick. ‘I’m Nick! And I feel sick. Stop the ship, Dick!’

  ‘Stop the ship for Nick, Dick!’ chorused the crowd on the banks, who were now enjoying themselves hugely. ‘You better be quick, Dick! He’s going to be sick, Dick!’

  The teasing and the twirling were more than the two Turnip brothers could bear. Both of them were now beginning to wish that they were back at the Tower of London, about to have their gimlets scrimbled. But there was no chance of that! The current was now sweeping them past the island and out into a huge expanse of open water.

  ‘Was that Oxford?’ groaned Nick, as he looked back at the fishing village.

  ‘Err, yes I think so.’ said Dick.

  ‘Then why did it have that big sign saying “Last Ship’s Biscuits Before The English Channel”?’ said Nick.

  Chapter Six

  Once the crew of the Grumpy Roger had tidied the fish into piles and given the deck of the Flying Kipper a quick scrub, they were ready to set off in search of their stolen boat. But, of course, the first thing they had to do was find out which way it had gone. They were in luck! After spending a few moments questioning people on the quayside, they came across a night watchman who said he was sure he had seen the Grumpy Roger heading east.

  ‘In other words, towards the open sea!’ exclaimed Captain Codswallop. ‘I wonder what those ship-lifting bilge-buckets can be up to? Right, let’s get after them, lads!’

  And with that, they upped anchor, hoisted the Flying Kipper’s one and only, extremely threadbare, sail and set off towards the Thames Estuary.

  Despite its name, the Flying Kipper was not built for speed, and progress was slow, much to the frustration of Captain Codswallop and his men. However, just as the sun was peeping over the eastern horizon they reached some water meadows a few miles beyond London, where they spotted a farm boy leading a horse and cart along the riverbank.

  Captain Codswallop decided to ask him if he’d seen anything of the Grumpy Roger.

  ‘Ahoy there, little landlubber!’ he called, as he steered the Flying Kipper alongside the lad. ‘I’ve lost a pirate ship. It’s a big, green wooden thing; answers to the name of the Grumpy Roger! Have you seen it?’

  ‘Phwoar!’ cried the lad, grabbing his nose. ‘You’re a mongy lote ob birats, aren’t you! Det, ad a batter of fat, I tid dee a birat jip. It went dit way! An’ dat way! Den dit way again! An’ it wad going bakwuds aw de dime!’

  ‘Add a batter of fat? Dit way? Dat way?’ said Captain Codswallop, looking at Norris in bewilderment. ‘They don’t half talk funny round here, don’t they, Norris? Or do you think the poor little twit’s got a jib loose?’

  ‘He’s holding his nose because he can’t stand the smell of our fish!’ said Norris. ‘I think what he’s saying is something like, “Yes, as matter of fact I did see a pirate ship. It went dit way! An’ dat way! And it was going backwards aw de dime!” Or something like that?’

  ‘Dat way? Dit way? Backwards?’ exclaimed Captain Codswallop. ‘That sounds very odd. The Grumpy’s normally such a well-behaved little boat. I hope it isn’t being mistreated!’

  ‘Well, at least we know that those boatnappers haven’t skedaddled off up a tributary and hidden themselves away,’ said Norris. ‘So we’re most definitely still going in the right direction.’

  ‘Yes, that’s true!’ said Captain Codswallop. ‘Thank you very much, little country pumpkin! Throw him a fish for his breakfast, Norris.’

  When they reached the fishing village on the island, Captain Codswallop spotted the sailor who’d mistaken Nick for a figurehead and called, ‘Ahoy there, matey, have you been here long?’

  ‘Yes, I have, shipmate!’ replied the old sea dog. ‘About 98 years!’

  ‘In that case you might be able to help us,’ called Captain Codswallop. ‘We’re looking for a big, green pirate ship. It was probably going backwards.’

  ‘Oh, I seen that!’ said the old chap. ‘But it weren’t going backwards. It were twirling. Like this!’

  He began to whirl along the quayside but, after a moment or so, he appeared to go dizzy and flopped down on a mooring post, looking really pale and ill.

  ‘That reminds me!’ he said. ‘It had a talking figurehead, with a green face, which kept groaning and moaning. And the captain was shouting “Whoa!” and “Giddyup!” and larruping the deck with his cat o’ one tail.’

  ‘His cat o’ one tail?’ said Captain Codswallop, looking puzzled. ‘What’s one of them when it’s at home?’

  ‘I think he means a whip, Captain Codswallop,’ said Norris. ‘It sounds like this chap was probably lashing the Grumpy Roger with a whip.’

  ‘The scoundrel!’ yelled Captain Codswallop. ‘I’ll give him a whip! Just wait till I get my mitts on him!’ Then he turned back to the old man and cried, ‘Did you get the name?’

  ‘Yes, it were Dick,’ shouted the old chap. ‘The talking figurehead called him Dick!’

  ‘No, not his name, you batty old barnacle!’ yelled Captain Codswallop. ‘The boat’s name!’

  ‘There’s no need to be rude!’ said the old sailor. ‘I’m doing my best. I am 98 you know!’

  ‘Sorry about that,’ said Captain Codswallop. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s because I’m feeling so upset about losing the—’

  ‘Grumpy Roger!’ said the old man.

  ‘How did you know that?’ exclaimed Captain Codswallop.

  ‘It said so on the side,’ said the old man.

  Chapter Seven

  Half an hour later, the Flying Kipper sailed
out of the Thames Estuary and into the English Channel. Then, twenty minutes after that, to the utter disappointment of Captain Codswallop and his crew, the wind dropped and a thick fog came down. All at once the sail of the Flying Kipper began to droop like a wet dishcloth. And so did the crew!

  ‘Well, that’s that, then!’ groaned Captain Codswallop. ‘We’re becalmed. We can’t go another mile. We’ve lost our beloved Grumpy Roger.’

  ‘And all those chests full of lovely money,’ Norris added gloomily. ‘We’ll never catch up with them now.’

  For a few moments the crew stood around staring at their feet and sighing in despair, but then Ginger Hale began jumping up and down and yelled, ‘I’ve just a had an idea! Why don’t we get out and push?’

  ‘Just what I was thinking!’ exclaimed Captain Codswallop. ‘You’re a genius, Ginger!’ Then he turned to the crew and said, ‘OK, you lot! Get out and push. I’ll steer. You be the lookout, Norris. And you can be the foghorn, Ginger.’

  Ginger grinned from ear to ear, then went, ‘Beep, beep, beeeeeeep!’

  But the crew all looked really unhappy and grumbled something about not having their swimming trunks with them and the water being too cold. Then they began to mutter rebelliously.

  ‘Oh dear, I hope there isn’t going to be a mutterny!’ said Captain Codswallop.

  ‘Don’t worry, cap’n!’ said Norris. ‘I know what to do.’ Then he whispered something in his ear and a huge grin spread across Captain Codswallop’s face.

  ‘Shipmates!’ he cried. ‘I’ve just had yet another brilliant idea. As a special favour I’ve decided that I’m going to allow you all to keep your clothes on when you get into the water. That way you’ll stay nice and warm!’

  ‘Phwoar, captain, you ain’t half clever!’ said the crew. ‘Why didn’t we think of that?’

  ‘I’m not captain for nothing, you know,’ said Captain Codswallop, as he watched them all throw themselves into the sea.