sun and into the shade.
‘She’s small enough to navigate the islands,’ the Commander explained. ‘But big enough to withstand heavy weather.’
It took Atticus a moment to work out he was talking about their ship.
‘Here we are!’
The yacht was about fifteen metres long. It was made of wood. A tall mast extended into the sky. It had a rope ladder attached to the top of it, which stretched all the way down to the railing that ran around the edge. Taut metal ropes criss-crossed like spider webs from the mast to different points on the vessel. Beneath them, lengths of rope lay in neat coils on the deck. It all looked horribly complicated to Atticus. He’d never been on a yacht before. He’d once been on Mr Tucker’s fishing boat, but that didn’t have sails. Apart from that he’d only ever been on a cruise ship, which was like a floating hotel. You didn’t even know you were moving.
‘I like her name,’ Mr Tucker said. ‘
Destiny
.’ He rolled the word around on his tongue.
Destiny
. It was one of those words that said a lot in not very many letters, Atticus thought dismally. He wondered what their destiny would be: whether they would save Inspector Cheddar in time, or not.
‘There are three cabins,’ the Commander explained. He led the way downthe narrow steps into the hold. Atticus padded after him. He thought he might melt. It was even hotter below deck. A seating area led on to a small kitchen. Beyond that a door led to the cabins.
‘The boat has all the latest computer navigation equipment,’ the Commander pointed to a screen. ‘And there’s a radio so you can keep in touch with me on the frigate. We’ve asked the Americans to send over a smaller ship for us so we can provide back-up in an emergency, but it might take a few days. Until then you’re on your own.’
A porter clambered down the steps with their bags and put them in the cabins.
‘I think that’s it,’ the Commander said. He shook hands with Mr Tucker. ‘Good luck.’
The Commander and the porter disappeared.
‘I’ll go and unpack the first aid kit,’ Mrs Cheddar said. ‘Are you sure you’re okay, darling?’ she asked her husband anxiously. ‘You don’t want a lie down or anything?’
‘No,’ Inspector Cheddar sounded melancholy. He took his notebook out of his pocket. ‘Besides, I’m still on police duty.’ He scowled at Atticus.‘Which I take more seriously than
some
officers I could mention.’
Atticus tried to ignore him. He wished Inspector Cheddar wouldn’t keep harping on about things. It wasn’t exactly helping.
‘Put these on.’ Mr Tucker gave each crew member a life jacket. There was even one for Atticus. Michael held him while Callie put his front paws through the holes and clipped up the straps. It made Atticus even hotter. He thought he might faint.
‘Ready?’ Mr Tucker said. ‘Then let’s get under way.’
They followed Mr Tucker back up the steps to the cockpit. He started the engine. Mrs Tucker untied the ropes that held the boat to its mooring. It slipped away from the pontoon and out to sea.
As the noise and bustle of the port faded, Atticus began to feel a bit brighter. The sea was calm. A cool breeze played about his whiskers. He found a shady spot on the deck and lay down for a snooze. Maybe sailing wasn’t so bad after all.
‘Atticus!’ Mr Tucker roared. ‘What do youze thinks you’re doing? Go fooorrre and check the spinnaker.’
Atticus looked at him blankly.
What was he talking about?
‘Hurry up!’
Atticus got up with a sigh and headed towards the rear of the boat.
‘I said foooorrre, not aft!’ Mr Tucker yelled. ‘Don’t youze knows your bow from your stern?!!’
Atticus didn’t.
‘Don’t worry, Atticus,’ Mrs Tucker whispered. ‘You’ll get the hang of it. The bow is the front of the boat. The stern is the back.’
Atticus frowned.
Why couldn’t they just call it front and back if that was what it was?
‘I’ll do it, Herman.’ Mrs Tucker
‘She’s small enough to navigate the islands,’ the Commander explained. ‘But big enough to withstand heavy weather.’
It took Atticus a moment to work out he was talking about their ship.
‘Here we are!’
The yacht was about fifteen metres long. It was made of wood. A tall mast extended into the sky. It had a rope ladder attached to the top of it, which stretched all the way down to the railing that ran around the edge. Taut metal ropes criss-crossed like spider webs from the mast to different points on the vessel. Beneath them, lengths of rope lay in neat coils on the deck. It all looked horribly complicated to Atticus. He’d never been on a yacht before. He’d once been on Mr Tucker’s fishing boat, but that didn’t have sails. Apart from that he’d only ever been on a cruise ship, which was like a floating hotel. You didn’t even know you were moving.
‘I like her name,’ Mr Tucker said. ‘
Destiny
.’ He rolled the word around on his tongue.
Destiny
. It was one of those words that said a lot in not very many letters, Atticus thought dismally. He wondered what their destiny would be: whether they would save Inspector Cheddar in time, or not.
‘There are three cabins,’ the Commander explained. He led the way downthe narrow steps into the hold. Atticus padded after him. He thought he might melt. It was even hotter below deck. A seating area led on to a small kitchen. Beyond that a door led to the cabins.
‘The boat has all the latest computer navigation equipment,’ the Commander pointed to a screen. ‘And there’s a radio so you can keep in touch with me on the frigate. We’ve asked the Americans to send over a smaller ship for us so we can provide back-up in an emergency, but it might take a few days. Until then you’re on your own.’
A porter clambered down the steps with their bags and put them in the cabins.
‘I think that’s it,’ the Commander said. He shook hands with Mr Tucker. ‘Good luck.’
The Commander and the porter disappeared.
‘I’ll go and unpack the first aid kit,’ Mrs Cheddar said. ‘Are you sure you’re okay, darling?’ she asked her husband anxiously. ‘You don’t want a lie down or anything?’
‘No,’ Inspector Cheddar sounded melancholy. He took his notebook out of his pocket. ‘Besides, I’m still on police duty.’ He scowled at Atticus.‘Which I take more seriously than
some
officers I could mention.’
Atticus tried to ignore him. He wished Inspector Cheddar wouldn’t keep harping on about things. It wasn’t exactly helping.
‘Put these on.’ Mr Tucker gave each crew member a life jacket. There was even one for Atticus. Michael held him while Callie put his front paws through the holes and clipped up the straps. It made Atticus even hotter. He thought he might faint.
‘Ready?’ Mr Tucker said. ‘Then let’s get under way.’
They followed Mr Tucker back up the steps to the cockpit. He started the engine. Mrs Tucker untied the ropes that held the boat to its mooring. It slipped away from the pontoon and out to sea.
As the noise and bustle of the port faded, Atticus began to feel a bit brighter. The sea was calm. A cool breeze played about his whiskers. He found a shady spot on the deck and lay down for a snooze. Maybe sailing wasn’t so bad after all.
‘Atticus!’ Mr Tucker roared. ‘What do youze thinks you’re doing? Go fooorrre and check the spinnaker.’
Atticus looked at him blankly.
What was he talking about?
‘Hurry up!’
Atticus got up with a sigh and headed towards the rear of the boat.
‘I said foooorrre, not aft!’ Mr Tucker yelled. ‘Don’t youze knows your bow from your stern?!!’
Atticus didn’t.
‘Don’t worry, Atticus,’ Mrs Tucker whispered. ‘You’ll get the hang of it. The bow is the front of the boat. The stern is the back.’
Atticus frowned.
Why couldn’t they just call it front and back if that was what it was?
‘I’ll do it, Herman.’ Mrs Tucker
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