The Leaky Battery dropped anchor just along the coast from Rotten Apple Harbour and waited for Inkybeard’s ship to arrive. With the sails rolled up and the engine turned off, the Steampunk Pirates occupied themselves in other ways. Some cleaned the ship or rowed to shore to collect fresh wood. Up in the crow’s nest, Blower played a tin whistle. Gadge sat on the port side of the ship, whittling a piece of wood with a sharp knife attachment.
Kidd proved to be extremely popular with the crew. When he wasn’t swinging from rope to rope in spectacular displays of acrobatics, he was making himself useful. He oiled joints that needed oiling, hammered out dents and listened to the pirates’ grumbles.
“Good morning, Paddy,” said Kidd cheerfully. “What can I help you with today?”
“Top o’ the morning to you, young man,” replied Tin-pot Paddy. “I’m in need of a little assistance with my elbow. It squeaks when I do this.” He waved his arm in the air to prove his point.
“I see,” said Kidd. “And do you need to do that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is there any need for you to wave your arm like that?”
Tin-pot Paddy considered this question for a moment. “There’s not, now you mention it.”
“Then I have fixed your arm, even though I am but an ever-so-humble cabin boy.” Kidd bowed.
“Excellent work, Master Kidd.” Captain Clockheart patted him on the back, sending him staggering across the deck.
“Och, lad, you’re a breath of fresh air around here,” said Gadge, sending a burst of stinking steam from his rear.
Kidd wafted away the smelly gas. “Talking of fresh air, I think I might go for a swim, if that’s all right with you,” he said.
“We have a perfectly good rowing boat if you wish to go ashore,” said Captain Clockheart.
“I’m not going ashore. I swim for fun – it’s relaxing.”
“Not for us it wouldn’t be, laddie. I’d sink like a stone as soon as I hit the surface,” said Gadge.
“Mr Richmond Swift, our creator, did not have a seafaring life in mind for us,” said Lexi.
“Then why did he make you?” Kidd asked.
“We were designed as servants for the king,” said Lexi.
“Aye, but we ran away,” added Gadge.
“I’ll bet he didn’t like that one little bit,” said Kidd.
“Four thousand little bits, actually.” Captain Clockheart strode over to the main mast, which had the latest “Wanted” poster nailed to it. He tore it off and handed it to Kidd.
Kidd whistled, clearly impressed. “A four-thousand pound reward. That’s a lot of money.”
Captain Clockheart smiled proudly. “Aye, and we’re worth every penny. Now, if you’re going for a swim, you’d better get on with it. That old rascal Inkybeard will be back soon and then it’ll be time to chase this monster.”
“Aye aye, Captain.” Kidd jumped up on to the barrier and stood on his tiptoes. As he dived he performed a fancy mid-air somersault for the amusement of the crew, who applauded, cheered and sang along to Blower’s tune:
