THE "GOOD ENDEAVOUR" LEAGUE.

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 9, Issue 69, 3 May 1946, Page 6

THE "GOOD ENDEAVOUR" LEAGUE.

What ho, what ho, ma hearties. Well, here I am back at Whale Island again after a very eventful trip to the Chatham Islands, where I attended a reunion dinner of the crew of the old barque ‘Fallingapart.’ It all came about when Keelson Katen (his first name was Murvin, but we always called him Keelson), the boy who used to peel the potatoes and swab, out the galley on the ‘Fallingapart’ (of course he is grown up now) arrived unexpectedly off Whale Island in a lugger in which he was cruising about the South Pacific, and telling me about the * reunion dinner, asked me if I would like to go with him. Naturally I wanted to go very much, and I told him so, but I was a little surprised when he told me that the bottom was falling out of the lugger, and as he wanted to get back home before it did so, he would have to leave before dinner. I rushed back in to the cave, scribbled a note for the postman telling him where I was going, pushed my pipe into my pocket, flung a few clothes (and Butch) into my suitcase, and set off, pausing only to pour out enough milk to last Butinsky and Peterkin till I got back. (I needn’t really have bothered about the milk anyway, as I might have guessed that the minute my back was turned they would not touch it. As it happened, Peterkin spent all his time catching fish, eating them, and then sleeping, whilst Butinsky amused himself nibbling all the young shoots off my prize dahlias.

Immediately we were aboard the lugger, I went below and unpacked my suitcase, at the same time letting Butch-out and warning him that the only reason I had brought him was to keep a watchful eye and a firm hand on him. Whilst I was below, I heard Keelson pull the anchor up, put a few sausages on to heat up for dinner, and make ready to sail. Several hours later, I decided to go up on deck to see how we had progressed. Imagine my surprise to see that we were still exactly in the same place. “What’s all the hurry about?” said Butch, who was sitting on my shoulder.

“Oh!” said Keelson, thinking I had spoken, “I just thought we would wait for a while.”

“What’ a sailor! What a sailor! Doesn’t know one end of a ship from the other,” said Butch.

“What do you mean by that?” said Keelson, hopping up and down and shaking his fist at me.

I hastened to explain that it was Butch talking, and not P.T.W.

“Oh!” said Keelson, and he looked very sulky. “Well, to tell you the truth,” he said, “I don’t want to wear out my sails any sooner than I can help, so I’m waiting for the Toa to come past and give us a tow”

“Well, you’r-e going to wait a long time,” I said, “because the Toa is in Auckland.”

' “Oh dear,” said Keelson, “I suppose that means I will have to.use my sails after all,” and so saying, he asked me if I would mind hoisting the sails and getting under way whilst he went below for a . short nap (Keelson always was a very lazy one).

However, seeing that the voyage was only just beginning, I thought that he might as well sleep (he was no use as a sailor anyway), so that he would be able to steer at night whilst I slept (I found out later that he had brought me along so that I could steer at night). Anyway, several minutes later, I had the sails hoisted, and with a fair wind behind us, we set off in the direction of the Chatham Islands, with everything very peaceful and quiet except for Keelson’s snores which shook the lugger from stem to stern. Well hearties, it looks as if I’ll have to carry on with the story next week. Cheerio till then. P.T.W.

FOR YOUNG READERS ONLY

Aboard for the Goodwill Cruise

by

PETER THE WHALER (vf WHALE JSLAND

NEXT WEEK’S COMPETITION Now then, here’s a competition which will set you thinking. You all know that a young human being is called a baby. But what do you call the babies of the following:— 1 Cat. 2 Horse. 3 Goat. 4 Fowl. 5 Goose. 6 Swan. 7 Turkey. 8 Deer. 9 Eagle. 10 Elephant. 11 Fox. 12 Sheep. There you are, and I think you’ll find some that will stump you. Remember sailors, three free picture tickets go to the ones sending in the neatest correct or most nearly correct answers. P.T.W. MY MAIL BOX Dear P.T.W., Please may I join the crew of the Good Endeavour. I am 14 years old. I enclose 3d in stamps. Yours truly, Mark Iki Pouwhare.

(Welcome aboard laddie. I’m right glad to have you sailing on the Good Edeavour, although you’ll have tio sign off again as soon as you become 15 yeai-s of age. P.T.W.)