THE "GOOD ENDEAVOUR" LEAGUE.

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 9, Issue 72, 10 May 1946, Page 6

THE "GOOD ENDEAVOUR" LEAGUE.

What ho, what ho, ma hearties. Well, here’s Friday come round again, and another week of 1946 has passed. Time is certainly flying, although by Neptune’s toenails, I can’t say that it did likewise on our trip to the Chatham Islands. You will remember that we started off after some delay, and the first night settled down with Butch the parrot, asleep on the bowsprit, Keelson below snoring his head off, and me steering. We were quite a happy party. The next day started at dawn and concluded at nightfall (like all days) and we sailed merrily on across the ocean, with Butch still asleep on the bowsprit, me steering, and Keelson taking things easy. All that night, and the day after we cruised, and then about 4 o’clock in the afternoon, six days after we started, the Chatham Islands have in sight.

I don’t know if you sailors know anything about the Chatham Islands or not. I have been there several times before, but have never really had much chance to look round, as all the ships I was on which put in there only stayed several hours and then sailed again. The Chatham Islands consist of two main Islands called Chatham Island and Pitt Island, with a number of small rocky ones surrounding them. They are about 480 miles to the East of New Zealand (that is oh the right hand side when you look at a map), and belong to New Zealand). (When you come to think how far they are away, I suppose Keelson’s lugger didn’t make such bad time after all). On the Islands, live 200 Maoris and 200 pakehas, who run sheep farms arid fish for seals. The Morioris used to live there but when the Maoris came this race of people started to die out, and now there are none left. Anyway, as I was saying, at about 4 o’clock six days after we started, the Chatham Islands hove in sight. But sailors, a terrible thing happened. Just as we had caught sight of them, there came a terrible grinding tearing noise, and the bottom started to fall out of the lugger. • “Oh dear,” said Keelson. “There goes the bottom. I knew we should have started earlier. Now we’ll sink, and the stew I’ve got cooking will be ruined. What shall I do?”

“Quick,” aid Butch, “save the stew at all costs.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Keelson, and he rushed away to the galley where the stew was eooking.

FOR YOUNG READERS ONLY

Aboard for the Goodwill Cruise

PETER THE WHALER //whale jsiand

But meanwhile, the lugger was starting to sink at a .fast rate, and water was pouring in so quickly that I couldn’t keep up with it, (I was bailing it out with an old jam tin Keelson had given me). “I know what to do,” Butch piped up suddenly. I turned to look at him in surprise, for Butch has never shown any sense at all. “I know what to do,” he said. “The bottom is falling out, but the deck is still quite sound. Let’s turn her over and then the deck will be the bottom.”

“Scupper me, but that’s a good idea,” I said, and I dived over the side, whilst Butch flapped his wings, and flew up into the air. Suddenly I saw a grey fin sticking up out of the water, coming slowly towards me. A shark! That meant I had to work quickly. I dived under the boat, and •catching hold of the bottom, tried to turn it over. Just at that moment a big wave came, and over she went. I came to the surface, and there was the lugger floating perfectly upside down, with Butch sitting perched on what was left of the bottom. I hastily clambered up and joined him, just beating the shark and no more. Well sailors, when I think of the narrow squeak I had, it fairly takes my breath away, so I’d better pause till I get it back, and in the meantime, continue with the rest of the column. Cheerio till next week. P.T.W.

■ LAST WEEK’S COMPETITION NAMING THE YOUNG ONES Yo ho, I thought that competition about naming the young ones of various animals and birds would be a stiff one; in fact I only received three totally correct entries. I received some very strange answers, which, although wrong, showed that quite a lot of thought had been put into them. For instance, one sailor thought that a baby turkey was a turklet, whilst another put a young elephant down simply as a baby elephant. (And remember sailors, that a young swan is a ‘Cygnet’, not a ‘Signet.’) Well now, free tickets this week go to the following:— Judy Radcliffe Beryl Brashier Pat Winers., A special ticket for neatness goes to Julia Morice. These lucky sailors (all girls I notice) may collect their tickets from

the Beacon Office with my best compliments. Correct answers were as under:— Cat—Kitten. Horse—Foal. Goat—Kid. Fowl—Chicken. Swan—Cygnet. Turkey—Poult. Deer—Fawn. ■Eagle—Eaglet. Elephant—Calf. Fox—Cub. Sheep—Lamb.

NEXT WEEK’S COMPETITION NAMES OF GROUPS Now here’s another competition just about as stiff as the last (and if it’s as popular as the last, I expect I shall be swamped with answers). Below are printed the names of animals and things, which when they are spoken of in a bunch, have special names. The first, for instance, ‘A of sheep’ is obviously ‘A flock of sheep.’ See how many of the others you can get, and send your answers in to me c/o Beacon Office.

1. A of sheep. 2. A ... . of fish. 3. A of monkeys. 4. A of cattle. 5. A of partridges. 6. A . . . . .of bees. 7. A .... of setting eggs. 6. A of bananas. 9. A .... of whales. 10. A ... . of keys. 11. A of lions. 12. A of pups. 13. A of kittens. 14. A ..... of leopards. There we are sailors. Number 10, I might say, is the easiest of the lot, although none of them is really very hard, except the last two. Number 13 and 14, I think, will probably stick most of you (I didn’t even know them myself until I looked the answers up), so any who get them, will certainly be one up on the others. P.T.W.

MY MAIL BOX Dear P.T.W., Could you please tell me how many points we have to get before we get a picture ticket. Yours truly, Pat Winters. (Yes Pat, the number of points needed is 10. Right now the page is short of contributions, so any littie pieces of poetry, jokes, etc. which you send in will stand a good chance of earning points for you. P.T.W.) Dear Peter the Whaler, May I join your band please? I am 14 years old. 1 I enclose 3d in stamps. Yours truly, Pauline Cradwick. (Step aboard Pauline. I see you’re v l4 years of age, but you will probably have some quite good times aboard the Good Endeavour before you turn 15. You’re certificate has been posted. P.T.W.)