“Right,” said the Captain. “It’s very important for everybody to STAY CALM!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“You just have a nice sit down, dearie, and try to stop shaking,” the Crew said to the Captain. “I survived the Great Freeze of ’63, the Great Flood of ’74, and the Great Toilet Paper Shortage of ’82. I can get through this, too. We’ve just got to consider all the options.”

“We can’t run away,” said Eddy, “because the ship has run aground. We can’t hide, because we’re standing on a big bare rock. We can’t fight, because we can’t fight.”

“Let’s face it,” said the Penguin. “If Barracuda Bill attacks, we’re doomed.”

“Which means,” said the Crew, “we’ve got to find a way to stop him attacking in the first place.”

“Maybe we can frighten him off,” said Eddy. “What if we were sick? I read in my Big Book of Ships that pirates were terrified of deadly diseases getting on board.”

“So your plan for survival is for us to catch a fatal illness,” said the Penguin. “I think I can see a tiny flaw.”

“We don’t have to catch it,” said Eddy. “We just have to make them believe we’ve caught it. My book has a picture of a ship flying a big yellow flag to warn other vessels to keep clear. So, we need something big and yellow.”

“Auntie’s painting!” shouted the Crew. “It’s got a few purple splodges where the Taj Mahal’s meant to be, but they’ll hardly show from a distance.”

“Great!” said Eddy. “Get it from the Captain’s cabin and we’ll run it up the flagpole. And then we have to put on a show to convince the pirates. We need someone who can act. Penguin – I think this is your big moment.”

The Captain was draped over the ship’s wheel, playing dead. The Crew lay sprawled across the deck. Eddy was flat out nearby, eyes shut, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“Boarding party, prepare grappling irons!” Barracuda Bill’s voice was alarmingly close.

Eddy opened one eyelid the tiniest fraction, and peeped out. The Scavenger was almost alongside. And two dozen of the biggest, hairiest, bristling-with-weaponsiest pirates that you could ever wish not to meet were lined up at the ready.

Perhaps their plan wasn’t going to work.

“Boarding party, swing grappling irons!”

They were coming. And there was nowhere to run.

“Yellow Jack!” a voice suddenly yelled. At last, someone had spotted the warning flag.

Another shouted, “They’m got fever aboard!” and “Hold, lads!” and there was a jostling and muttering and “I see a body!” and “There’s another!” and the clunking of grappling irons as they were dropped to the deck.

It’s working, thought Eddy. He could hear the alarm in their voices.

But then Barracuda Bill growled, “Are you lily-livered chicken-hearted milk-swigging lackguts going to fall for that old trick? I reckon if one of those bodies feels your boot you’ll soon find out they’re as alive as you or me. And there’s a ducat in my pocket for the man who’ll prove me right.”

Then the muttering changed in tone, and one particularly big, particularly hairy, particularly bristling-with-weaponsy pirate stepped forward and shouted, “I say the Captain’s right! I’ll win that ducat, and crack a few bones while I’m about it. Stand back, boys, and let me at ’em.”

Oh, no, thought Eddy. We’re done for.

And then from behind him he heard a pitiful groan and a hacking cough and the Penguin stumbled across his view.

“Dead!” wailed the Penguin. “All dead – and me not long for this world neither! Ohhhhh! Why me? I’m too young and handsome and just plain all-round brilliant to die!”

He tottered around the deck, then raised a feeble flipper towards The Scavenger, a look of terror on his face.

“Ohhhhhh! It’s the fever – the terrible fever – it’s Poor Sore Head. Stay back, or it will kill all of you, too.”

He cried out twice, a cry that was no more than a breath – “The horror! The horror!” And then with a final twirl on one foot, he collapsed, limp and silent.

On board The Scavenger, there wasn’t a sound, not even a whisper – until the noise of a carelessly dropped pin shattered the mood.

“It looks like they really are ill,” said Barracuda Bill. “Let’s get out of here.”

We’re safe, thought Eddy. Well done, Penguin!

But then:

“And now, ladies and gentlemen…”

It was the Penguin. What!?

“What do you give to a fish with no ears?”

“You stupid bird!” And now the Captain spoke. “You’ve ruined everything.”

Oh, no.

With a snarl and a roar and a whirling of grappling irons, a blur of pirates swung from deck to deck.

“I had to go for an encore,” said the Penguin. “The audience were mine – completely enthralled. It’s every performer’s dream.”

“And here,” said the Captain, “comes every sailor’s nightmare.”

Barracuda Bill! A balding parrot sitting on his shoulder screeched, “Time for bye-byes!” and then chuckled cruelly. Bill bent forward and thrust his face so close that Eddy could see the fleas jumping in his bristling red beard. He opened his lips, revealing a mouthful of long, sharp teeth.

“What ho, me hearties?” he growled.