day sixty-two and the moon

The next morning, everyone went down to breakfast (fish sausages, Kola Nut Hotel 's special tamarind sauce, flapjacks with sycamore syrup). Then the penguins, seals, sea-otters and the walrus spent the whole day playing in the pool, while Capt. Cookie and Lieutenant Temples, the co-pilot, went back to the airship to check everything. Skates, the bellboybird, took them in the hotel luggage cart and watched while they tested the instruments and tightened bolts etc. The captain had asked Miss Wu, the hotel manager, to order some catering-quality cooking oil from McCluskey, and they were expecting him to deliver it in the grocery blimp the next day. Wu had some high-octane extra virgin olive oil, but Capt. Cookie thought such rich stuff might spoil the engine.

Later on, in the afternoon, after the maintenance work was finished, Temples and Supervisor Singsong went for a walk in the hotel's exotic garden and got completely lost.

That evening, back in the hotel there was a bit of a commotion.

“Wildmouth, you monsterpiece!!” shouted Miss Wu. “You ate the harpsichord?”

“I was hungry - I thought it was a gazelle,” said Wildmouth. “Anyway, I only ate one or two legs.”

“Well, there are bite marks on the flank and neck too,” said Wu. ”And scratches all over the lid! It’s going to cost a lot to restore it to it’s former glory. Not to mention the trauma it must have suffered!”

“I’m sorry,” said Wildmouth. “I’ll pay for the restoration. Put it on my bill.”

Night fell, and Lieutenant Temples and Superviser Singsong were still wandering around in the exotic garden hopelessly lost. They spent the night in the garden, huddled together against the chill and lit by a bright moonlight.

The Moon was behaving eccentrically that night. It came down lower and lower, closer and closer, until it was just above the roof of the hotel, where the other two members of the airship’s crew were now sleeping. Capt. Cookie was fast asleep, but Commander Winterbottom, the steward, woke up and was shocked to see the Moon two or three  metres above him. Squinting in the white light, he stood up. He could feel the Moon gently pulling him. It was irresistable. He jumped up and then he was on the surface of the Moon! He held tight as it started to rise up again. He called to Capt. Cookie: “Sir! Skipper!”  The captain woke up with a start and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Winterbottom!” shouted the captain. “Jump!”

Winterbottom was now standing on the bottom of the Moon with Mother Earth ten metres above him. He tried to jump but he couldn’t escape the Moon’s gravity. The Moon continued to rise.

Zhulian Wildmouth made his name as a young tearaway lion actor, when he portrayed Sir Charlton Boniface, the cross-dressing, water-skiing philanthropist. He is not in the spotlight now apart from the occasional guest appearance in a magic lantern show. Although his celebrity aura is now dimmed, critics are frightened of him after what happened to Snodgrass Twit, who had given him a bad review. (Similar treatment should be feared by anyone suggesting he might have let himself go.) He's a permanent guest at the Kola Nut Hotel.

© David Severn 2012

day sixty-one and a surprise

The airship slowed down and down, and Capt. Cookie was forced to land. The crew and passengers all watched as the Moose Brothers’ Skycruiser continued unchallenged to the Kola Nut Hotel.

“Looks like we’re scuppered, skipper,” said the co-pilot.

“Mmm... if only we’d had a little more oil, we could have done it,” said the captain as they saw the Skycruiser approach the hotel...... and fly straight on!

“It’s not stopping after all!” cried the co-pilot.

“Ahem... Ladybirds and gentlebirdmen!” announced the captain into the microphone. “Please disembark and we will walk the short distance to the hotel. Please take all your belongings with you!”

“Hooray!” cheered all the passengers, flinging off their seatbelts and excitedly getting their luggage down from the overhead compartments.

When all the passengers had disembarked, the steward, Commander Winterbottom, and the stewardess, Supervisor Singsong, led the way to the hotel which was about a hundred-and-fifty metres away.

In the cockpit, Capt. Cookie and Lieutenant Temples did a few diagnostics and a bit of paperwork and then locked the airship and followed the others.

Ron was thrilled to be returning to the Kola Nut Hotel, where his adventure in the Chilly Peaks had all started when he pulled the rope that was dangling through the cocktail lounge window.

A bellboybird at the hotel saw them coming and went out to meet them. His name was Skates. He put all the passengers bags on a luggage trolley and led them into the hotel lobby, where the manager at the desk, Miss Wu, scrambled to find available rooms and spare hammocks for them all.  She put ten penguins together in one room and eight more in another. The seals and sea-otters shared a room and Fattum the walrus got a room to himself. Supervisor Singsong was given a single room and Capt. Cookie, Temples and Winterbottom were allocated the roof. Ron was accomodated on the patio with Fred and his spider friends.

© David Severn 2012

day sixty-one and a race

After what seemed like ages and ages and ages, the airship finally reached the edge of the swamp and the terrible shaking ceased.

“Damage report, please, Temples,” said Capt. Cookie.

“Y-y-es, c-c-ca-captain,” said the co-pilot, whose beak hadn’t quite recovered.

He checked the instruments in the cockpit, which had now all stopped malfunctioning.

“Fuel’s in the r-r-red, captain,” said the co-pilot.

“Let’s hope it’s enough to get us to the hotel!” said the captain. “Look, there it is!”

The Kola Nut Hotel was now visible in the distance, with the glittering blue sea beyond.

“Ladybirds and gentlebirdmen,” the captain announced. “We will soon be arriving at our destination. We hope you have had a pleasant flight with us today... I mean these last few days, and we look forward to having the pleasure of.......... Oh, cockle cobblers! I don’t believe it!”

The co-pilot was pointing up into the sky above them, where another airship was heading straight for the hotel.

“It’s a Moose Brothers’ Skycruiser,” said Capt. Cookie. “If it gets to the hotel first there’ll be no room left for us!”

“And the next hotel is a hundred kilometres away!” added the co-pilot, whose beak was now all right.

“Our passengers aren’t going to be very happy!” said the steward, who had come to the cockpit to see what was going on.

“Hold on!” said the captain, pushing the throttle forward. “Kola Nut or bust!”

The engine gasped and wheezed at the sudden urgency. The airship jerked forward and accelerated, pushing the passengers back into their seats. Cups toppled into laps. The puzzle pieces scattered down the aisle and under seats. The race was on! The prize: comfy hammocks, fish sausages with tamarind gravy for breakfast, good times in the pool and the cocktail bar!

They were now neck-and-neck with the Skycruiser, although it was up at an altitude of about thirty metres, whereas Capt. Cookie was still flying very low, just a few metres above the surface.

Just then, there was a loud grumble from the engine....... and then silence.

“Out of fuel, Captain,” said the co-pilot.

© David Severn 2012

day sixty-one and the swamp

After escaping the burstificacious thistle forest, the airship was momentarily engulfed in a swarm of cardigan bugs. When that cleared, Capt. Cookie and the co-pilot, Lieutenant Temples could see the swamp just ahead. It was hard to judge it’s size from their elevation just two metres above the ground, but they decided it must be around the size of a small county; Caramelshire perhaps.

“Did McCluskey say anything about this swamp?” asked the co-pilot.

“Yes,” said the captain. ”He said we should go around it.”

“Good idea!” said the co-pilot.

“Yes, good idea,” said the captain. “But we haven’t got enough fuel. We’ll have to go straight across!”

Capt. Cookie knew that if the airship came down in the middle of the swamp there would be little chance of rescue or survival, but he pushed the joystick forward.

The air soon became damp and full of gnats and mosquitos. The engine coughed and wheezed. As they got further across the swamp, the airship’s instruments in the cockpit began to go haywire. Needles jumped around their dials and lights flashed at random. In the cabin the passengers held tight as their seats started shaking. They watched helplessly as the jigsaw puzzle pieces jiggled apart, breaking up the image of the Imperial Palace they had spent so long putting together. Soon the whole airship was shaking. The trembling went up Ron’s legs and spine, around his skull and out through his beak. The spiders walked around on their porthole web like drunken sailors on a night out. Even Sir Wellington Moonboots had never experienced anything like this before.

And there was still a long way to go.

“I don’t think the ship can stand much more of this!” said the co-pilot quaveringly.

“I’m not going to let her go down in this swamp!” said Capt. Cookie, reaching up to catch a bolt as it came out of the ceiling.

© David Severn 2012

day sixty-one and the giant thistle forest

In the airship’s cabin, the passengers held their breath as they looked out of the portholes at the prickly giant thistle leaves. Up above they could see the giant purple thistle heads. The jigsaw puzzle was still on the floor; almost complete now, apart from some tricky blue sky pieces.

It was dark in the thistle forest and Capt. Cookie switched on the front lamp. Giant moths the size of birds fluttered around the beam of light, sometimes crashing into the cockpit window.

An owl appeared. Capt. Cookie opened the window and called to it:

“Excuse me. Is it far?”

“It’s about three o’clock,” replied the owl.

“No, is it far to the end of the thistle forest?” said Cookie.

“No, thanks. I’ve just had lunch,” said the owl.

“Err... o.k. thanks for your help,” said the captain.

“Next Monday,” said the owl.

Capt. Cookie closed the window.

“I thought owls were supposed to be wise!” said the co-pilot.

Having committed to flying straight through the forest, they had no choice but to keep going, although the captain had to concentrate like mad to avoid touching the spiky giant thistles with the sides of the airship. Occasionally, a thistle prickle tickled the airship’s balloon, but luckily didn’t puncture it.

Eventually it started to become a little lighter and then all of a sudden they were out of the forest. The captain and co-pilot’s faces, which had been frozen in grimaces now thawed and a loud cheer came from the cabin: Hooray!

Captain Cookie switched on the windsceen wipers to remove moth-dust and visually checked the airship’s position. Then he picked up the microphone:

“Ladybirds and gentlebirdmen,” announced the captain. “Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened, as we continue our flight to the Kola Nut Hotel. We expect to be arriving there by about tea-time.”

However, the captain didn’t tell the passengers that they now had to navigate a large swamp.

© David Severn 2012

day sixty-one and the airship leaves the lake

A minute later, the egrets returned.

“Did you find the dinghy?” asked Capt. Cookie.

“Have you got the anchovies?” asked an egret.

“Yes, “ said the captain, showing them the four fillets on the tray.

“Great!” said the egrets.

 “The dinghy’s over that way, about one kilometre away,” said an egret. 

“Are my crew all right?” asked Cookie.

“Yes,” said an egret. “We told ‘em to wait there.”

“Thank you!” said the captain.

“You’re welcome!” said the egrets, scoffing the anchovies. “Right, follow us!”

Capt. Cookie gently swung the airship around and followed the egrets across the lake, just a metre or so above the waterlillies. Soon the dinghy came into view.

“Get them aboard, Winterbottom!” shouted the captain to the steward.

“Give them some pineapple and a blanket.”

The co-pilot and the stewardess got aboard the airship. They were a bit wobbly after spending the last few days floating in the dinghy.

The egrets flew off looking for more grub, and Capt. Cookie set a course for the thistle forest, still keeping the airship just above the surface of the lake.

Before long, the airship crossed the perimeter of the lake. As it continued, still at the same level, the co-pilot took his seat in the cockpit, next to the captain. 

“Our altitude is very low, captain,” said the co-pilot.

“Yes, I know. We’ve only got a little oil - just what I drained out of five tins of anchovy fillets,” said the captain.

“But we’ll have to climb to get over that thistle forest just ahead,” said the co-pilot.

“No, we’re going through it!” said the captain.

“Phwwuuuh!” said the co-pilot. “But one prick from one of those thistles and we’re going to burst!”

“I realise that, Temples,” said Cookie. “I’m not stupid!”

© David Severn 2012

day sixty-one and an anchovy

Capt. Cookie watched the four egrets fly off across the lake in different directions to look for the dinghy with the co-pilot and the stewardess aboard.

“Steward to cockpit, please!” he said into the microphone.

The steward entered the cockpit. “Aye, skipper?”

“Winterbottom, have you finished serving the anchovies?” asked the captain.

“Aye, skipper!” said the steward. “All the passengers have had one.”

“And how many are left?” asked the captain anxiously.

“Three, skipper,” said the steward, showing the captain his tray with three anchovy fillets on it. “One for you, one for me and one spare one.”

“I need four!” said the captain,

“You said one each, skipper!” said the steward.

“Not for me!” said the captain, “I did a deal with some egrets. Four of them. I promised to give them an anchovy each if they find the dinghy!”

“Oh!” said the steward. “Well, there’s only three, I’m afraid, skipper.”

The captain and the steward looked back into the cabin and saw all the passengers chewing and making Mmmm sounds. All but one. The walrus was just picking up his anchovy and opening his enormous mouth.

“Get that anchovy, Winterbottom!” cried Capt. Cookie.

The steward raced down the aisle of the cabin and whisked the anchovy out of the walrus’s flipper just before he closed his giant jaws.

“This anchovy’s tasteless!” said the walrus, chomping on nothing.

The steward put the anchovy on his tray and ran back to the cockpit.

“Got it, skipper!” he cried.

“Well done, Winterbottom!” said the captain. 

© David Severn 2012