The Great Galloon and the Pirate Queen by Tom Banks

rumours! Your brother is heading there now, with your bride-to-be in his evil clutches! Please, Captain! For Isabella! Over!’ squeaked Abel.
    This seemed to galvanise the Captain slightly.
    â€˜I need no persuading to put myself in danger for her sake,’ he said. ‘But many times now have I endangered the lives of those around me. I would not do so again without very good reason. Why do you suspect they are heading that way, Abel, over?’
    â€˜I … just … think … they are …’ said Abel, as if trying to talk while lifting up a filing cabinet full of lies.
    â€˜Well, if it’s no more than a hunch …’ Cloudier heard herself saying. The Captain looked at her appraisingly, and then at the tube.

    â€˜Yes. Skyman Abel, thank you for your thoughts. But if you have no further proof, then I cannot …’
    â€˜I heard Stanley Crumplehorn and Marianna Rasmussen talking about it, over!’ he admitted, almost hysterically.
    Aha
, thought Cloudier;
so you know their names when it really matters.
    â€˜They heard someone talking on the boy’s infernal long-distance listening machine. Over,’ said Abel, as if it was the hardest thing he’d ever said.
    Immediately, the Captain raised his voice to what Cloudier thought of as ‘command level’.
    â€˜Mr Kollick!’ he said. ‘Instruct tow party to head “Left-by-Your-Left”, please,’ full speed ahead for the Rococo delta. First person to spot land gets extra trifle. Abel, ask Stanley and Rasmussen to meet me in my cabin, if you would – no, on second thoughts, in Stanley’s cabin, if he doesn’t mind. Thank you. Anstruther out.’
    He put the tube back into its cradle. He once again had about him the look of a man consumed by one thought, and not entirely aware of anything else. But he took a moment, as he climbed out of the crow’s nest, to look at Cloudier.
    â€˜Thank you once again, Ms Peele,’ he said. ‘I return to the deck. You may stay here if you wish and do what you do so well – look out for the Sumbaroon.’ He handed her his telescope, hopefully.
    â€˜Aye aye, Captain,’ said Cloudier. The Captain smiled, and ducked out of sight.
    Familiar feelings of pride, fear and excitement welled up in Cloudier. She put the telescope to her eye – it wasn’t very romantic or poetic, but she’d love an extra dollop of trifle come dinnertime.
    The Great Galloon was on its way again.

    Two days later, Stanley and Rasmussen were in Stanley’s bedroom, listening once again to the Examinator. They had been more or less glued to it since their meeting with the Captain, when he had asked them to keep track of any unusual goings-on on the airwaves.
    Stanley found it hard to know what was unusual and what wasn’t. He had been using the Examinator to communicate with his parents ever since he had become a member of the Galloon’s crew. His mother gave him lessons twice a day, alongside a number of other children who were spread around the world, in places too remote for them to attend school the normal way. But this was a regular appointment, so Stanley rarely just tuned in to see what he could hear. Until now, that is. And it was an education, to say the least. He and Rasmussen were slightly starry-eyed, and surrounded by empty tea mugs and sandwich plates. She had one hand on the dial, tuning and retuning it with a glazed intensity. He was lying on his back on the floor, staring at the wooden beams that ran across his ceiling. For the past forty-eight hours, Stanley had been keeping a note of the things they had heard, in case anything turned out to be useful. It read:
    00hrs 11mins Strange crunching, munching sound coming from the Examinator. Machinery of some kind?
    00hrs 17mins White noise. Rasmussen very tetchy. Need restorative bacon sandwich.
    00hrs 47mins Back from the mess. Definitely ready now for long, uninterrupted