Pirate Adventure: The Tales of Fluke and Tash

Fluke and Tash Series:

Robin Hood Adventure

Egyptian Adventure

Ancient Greece Adventure

Dinosaur Adventure

Christmas Adventure

Pirate Adventure

Copyright © Mark Elvy 2020

Published by Fluke and Tash Publishing

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, adapted, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise without

the prior written permission of the author.

The rights of Mark Elvy to be identified as the author of this work have been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and

Patents Act 1988

ISBN: 978-1-9998910-4-6

1718 - The Caribbean Sea...

T

he Queen Anne’s Revenge, a 44-gun frigate, cut through the waves with ease, making good headway in the violent storm. The ship’s silent but hardworking crew occasionally paused to listen to the howling wind and waves beating against the wooden hull. These were tough men used to sailing in the worst weather imaginable, but the storm tonight was bad. Really bad.

A full-rigged vessel, its impressive set of white sails fully inflated from all three masts, captured enough wind to propel the wooden hulk quickly towards its secret destination.

Several hours later the night’s storm had eased, leaving behind a light but firm breeze as dawn approached. The foresail, mainsail and mizzen sails were rapidly taken down and secured, slowing the ship as it approached the entrance to the bay.

‘Rocks ahoy,’ shouted a commanding voice from the lookout way above, high up in the crow’s nest. Even though it was still dark, his keen eyes had become accustomed to these night time voyages and he was able to warn the crew of any potential dangers that may lay ahead.

Silent figures prayed for a safe passage, thanking their lucky stars the wind had dropped. The dark wooden vessel slowly zig-zagged its way successfully through the reef which lay dangerously beneath the surface. There was only one way safely into the bay. The captain knew the route, but many didn’t.

Under the water, settled at the bottom of the sea and close to the entrance to the inlet, lay the wrecks of several ships. Damaged beyond repair, the coral reef had torn huge holes in their hulls causing them to run aground during stormy weather. The sea eventually reclaiming its prize, washing the carnage off the rocks and dragging the damaged hulks down into the dark depths below, way down into Davy Jones’ Locker. Many lives had been lost at sea.

Whilst the ship entered the naturally sheltered bay, the crew swiftly took down the remaining sails from all three masts and dropped anchor.

The wooden boat creaked as it rolled gently from side to side, two heavy anchors holding it steady. A shadowy figure dressed in black glided up to the bow of the ship, staring straight ahead into the darkness. His rough hands raised a lit lantern, waving the light slowly from side to side. He waited patiently, sensing the unrest from his fellow crewmen, impatient to get ashore.

Seconds passed, and then a signal was received from the beach. Several lanterns were lit, a string of beacons stretched across the sand. The coast was clear.

The crew breathed a huge sigh of relief. It was safe to go ashore.

‘Arr me hearties, let’s be a lowering them boats...’ roared the captain from the bow as he turned back to face his crew, ‘...and get this plentiful booty ashore!’

‘Aye, aye Capt’n,’ the assembled crew shouted back gleefully, looking forward to spending a few hours on dry land and, with a bit of luck, taking a tot or two of rum.

Smiling, he strode back and began to supervise his men loading the long boat, then watched as some of his crew crammed themselves into the jolly boat, a small craft used to ferry the sailors ashore. The rest couldn’t wait for it to return, jumping over the side of the gunwale and splashing into the warm Caribbean water they began the short swim to the beach. The captain noted it was probably the first bath his crew had had in many days. Life at sea was hard, washing facilities on a pirate ship were limited.

The long boat, full of treasure, was being rowed slowly away from the portside, heading towards the long line of lit lanterns. Several men were waiting to help unload and send her back again to be re-filled.

‘Capt’n Blackbeard, sir,’ growled a large man, his thumbs tucked into the waistband of his breeches, ‘the men are asking how long we’ll be stayin’?’

Turning round to face his right-hand man and first mate, Blackbeard laughed. ‘Long enough, Richards. Tell the men they’ll have time for a drop or two of grog, they’ve earnt it.’ He watched as Richards nodded his approval.

‘Thanks, Capt’n,’ said Richards, heading back to wait for the returning long boat, ‘the crew, as always, will be grateful of your generosity, sir.’

Dawn eventually arrived, and the rising sun brought promise of a fine, hot day. Richards had supervised three trips back and forth of the long boat. Each trip was full to the brim with wooden chests, which were rammed to overflowing with Spanish doubloons, Dutch and Portuguese gold coins, diamonds, jewellery, silver plates and gold goblets fit for a king’s banquet.

Blackbeard had allowed his men several hours to unwind, but now it was time to head back to New Providence Island. They needed to replenish their stores and carry out urgent repairs on the ship. Days at sea, especially in storms like last night, caused damage to ships that needed urgent attention.

The anchors were hauled up and fastened securely. The ship was steered carefully back into the ocean, sails were raised and the Queen Anne’s Revenge headed on a northwesterly course back to the Bahamas.

Richards was stood at the stern alongside Miller, the Quartermaster, both gazing at the small speck on the horizon, the island they were rapidly leaving behind.

‘We’ll be back soon to collect the treasure,’ said Blackbeard, disrupting the thoughts of his two men. ‘I have big plans for all this treasure, but only when the time’s right and the dust has settled from our last haul,’ he added.

‘And when the Royal Navy leaves us alone?’ added Miller hopefully.

‘Aye lad, that would be nice, but I can’t see that happening any time soon, matey,’ said Blackbeard, scratching his bearded face.

‘Let’s just hope some scallywag doesn’t find our buried treasure then whilst we’re not here guarding it,’ added Miller thoughtfully, suddenly realising the men who’d been guarding the buried treasure before were now all back on ship, leaving a deserted treasure island.

Richards nodded his head in agreement, shrugged his shoulders, and headed onto the main deck where he stood facing his crew who were waiting patiently for orders.

‘Right you scurvy dogs,’ bellowed Richards, ‘time for cannon practice!’ He threw some empty rum barrels over the starboard gunwales and watched them float in the churning water their vessel had left behind. ‘Turn us around Helmsman, and take up firing positions,’ ordered Richards to the crew. ‘Gates? Thomas Gates?’ he roared, ‘hells teeth, where are you man?’

Gates was the master gunner. ‘Here, sir,’ he confirmed, scampering into position, and began checking all the cannons were loaded and ready.

Blackbeard joined Richards and watched his men with pride as they took up their positions efficiently. Most of his crew had been trained by the Royal Navy until they left to take up piracy, and were true professionals. They got into position, loaded their cannons and waiting patiently for the Queen Anne’s Revenge to turn starboard, line up the wooden barrels and blow them out of the water.

Just before the order to fire was given by Richards and Gates, Blackbeard gazed skyward, rubbed his disbelieving eyes and shouted out, ‘Hold fire!’

‘Why, sir?’ Questioned Richards.

‘There man,’ pointed Blackbeard, ‘’tis no seagull or albatross Richards, it has no wings, so what is it and how on god’s green earth does it fly?’

The pair stood gazing into the clear blue sky, squinting as the sun shone brightly.

‘’Tis strange, Captain, of that there’s no doubt, but we’ll soon find out what it is. I’ll have the cannons shoot it down, sir,’ and he bellowed instructions to tilt the cannon skyward.

Boom! Boom! Boom! A round of cannonballs shot into the air, as half the 44 guns released a volley of fire, smoke from the cannons filled the deck. Whatever had been flying above them had been hit, causing the mysterious object to spin wildly out of control.

Squinting through the cannon smoke, Blackbeard gazed after the departing object, which was headed far out to sea.

‘Shall we give chase, master?’ asked Miller. ‘Just give the order, sir, and we’ll turn around and follow the creature.’

‘No Miller, it’s gone, disappeared from sight. I think that’s the last we’ll see of it, whatever it was,’ and with a final scratch of his beard he turned and left the deck, heading for his quarters. Over his shoulders he bellowed an order, ‘make good speed gentlemen, we need to get home to New Providence in the Bahamas.’

Present day

Walking the plank...

‘W

hy me?’ wailed Fluke, blindfolded, paws tied loosely behind his back.

‘Let’s be honest, Fluke,’ laughed Tash, ‘if anybody’s going to get into trouble, get caught, have an accident, walk the plank, it’s bound to be you. So, I’m just trying to get you used to what’s probably going to happen.’

‘Yeah, right!’ grumbled Fluke.

‘I’m helping you Fluke, honestly,’ laughed Tash.

Fluke was currently balanced on a springboard, two feet above the ground, with an inflatable paddling pool full of water below. Very cold — and very wet — water was just waiting for Fluke to step off the edge and make a splash.

Tash climbed the two rungs of the ladder, stood behind Fluke and with her plastic sword she prodded him gently in the back. ‘Arr, me hearty,’ she bellowed in her best pirate accent, ‘Ye has been charged with stealing my food,’ she laughed and prodded Fluke in the back one more time. ‘The punishment for such a hideous crime is to walk the plank,’.

‘But, but, you said you didn’t want it,’ he turned to confront Tash, ‘so I just ...’ but he wasn’t allowed to finish the sentence as Tash prodded him one last time, causing the blindfolded Fluke to step off the edge and land in the shallow water below. Trying to stand and wade to the side of the paddling pool, he slipped and sat waist deep in the freezing cold water.

‘Mind the sharks,’ giggled Tash, standing on the springboard looking down at a soaking wet Fluke. ‘Move over sea-dog, pirate cat’s coming down!’ and she leapt off the springboard and dive-bombed into the paddling pool. A huge spray of water covered Fluke from head to paw.

‘Yeah, yeah, very funny,’ grinned a spluttering Fluke, whose blindfold had come off and was floating on the surface. ‘I still can’t believe we’re actually going to the Caribbean though Tash, trying to find the most feared pirate of all time, the one and only infamous Blackbeard!’ He shivered, which was partly due to sitting in cold water, but mainly at the thrilling thought, that in a few short hours, they’d be whizzing off on a new and exciting adventure, hopefully encountering swashbuckling pirates, huge pirate ships, desert islands and buried treasure. ‘So, err, we are actually going tonight, aren’t we,