The First Voyage Read online

  ‘No, no, it’s not.’ Brown Moss’s voice is cracking.

  He rocks his head.

  ‘No, it’s not so.’ She looks at me and her eyes are pleading with me. ‘Bent Beak can see the land now!’

  Eagle Eye is shivering but he looks up to me and his eyes lock on my face.

  ‘Don’t you?’ She stares at me.

  And I nod.

  He closes his eyes.

  I realise I have to add something. ‘It is a point on the sea, like a mountain . . .’

  Eagle Eye’s head sags and he softly sighs. And that is it.

  Brown Moss holds his head in her lap and she weeps.

  Fast Fish comes to her and puts his hand near Eagle Eye’s mouth. ‘He has gone.’

  But Fast Fish isn’t needed. I know and everyone knows. I lift up my head, wipe my eyes and try to focus on the horizon.

  The Wind and Moonlight wail, and Waterlily stares at them. After a while, Brown Moss joins them.

  ‘Hey . . .’ I say.

  I am ignored.

  ‘There is something . . .’

  ‘Shut up.’ Fast Fish says. ‘He is dead.’

  ‘But there is now!’

  They look at me and then Burnt Earth staggers up.

  ‘Where?’ he says.

  I point.

  It isn’t much. A sliver on the horizon, a splinter on the water. So small that I can put my little fingernail on it.

  ‘Um,’ he says.

  ‘And?’ says Fast Fish.

  Burnt Earth glances at me. ‘It could be.’

  And everyone – except for little Waterlily – scrambles up and peers at the sliver. Fast Fish rubs his jaw, Old Tortoise scratches his neck, Moonlight nibbles her lips, Brown Moss glares at it so as to say, now you show up, but The Wind’s lips are beginning to widen.

  Fast Fish turns to Old Tortoise. ‘What you think?’

  He shakes his head and wobbles his fingers before his eyes. ‘I can’t tell, now you have to trust the boys . . .’ Then he looks down to the big eyes of Waterlily. ‘No, I got special eyes!’ He wobbles up, sweeps her from the bamboo and plants her on his shoulders. ‘Can you see the land, Waterlily?’

  She grabs his white beard in fright but she blinks at the water, lets go and claps her hands. ‘Yes, yes, I can see it!’ She shoves her finger at the water.

  Fast Fish nods. ‘All right, we will say that is land but we will have to keep on going to get there. Come on, paddle.’

  Old Tortoise puts Waterlily down and looks at Eagle Eye’s body for a long time before he glances at Fast Fish.

  Brown Moss sees the glance, shakes her head and opens her mouth.

  But Fast Fish is faster than her. ‘No. He stays. He will get to his land.’

  ‘Good,’ Old Tortoise says. He starts to say something but he suddenly frowns and drops down on the bamboo. He grabs the line on his big toe, jerks it and feels it. ‘Ah!’ And he pulls the line fast and pulls a fish onto the raft.

  It is a bream, but not too big. It is not bigger than Waterlily’s hand, but it is a good sign. A great sign. Everyone has a taste of the fish – my stomach almost throws up, but I tell my stomach that we need it, so it quietens down. The hook is given a piece for another go, but I am hoping that he won’t get another one.

  We paddle furiously towards the sliver as the sun sits in the middle of the sky and blasts us. I feel the dripping of sweat from my face, and my is mouth as dry as a stone.

  Fast Fish looks at Moonlight and she is suffering more than everyone else – even more than Waterlily – because of the baby. He shakes his head. ‘No, this is stupid. It is too hot. Stop racing. It will be there tomorrow – if – never mind. If you have got a paddle, use it, but don’t battle with your hands. Just take it easy. And the paddlers take it easy too. We have seen the land and it won’t disappear. We will be better when the sun has gone.’

  I paddle slowly and it is better, but when The Wind taps me on the shoulder I am glad to hand the paddle over.

  But then Burnt Earth slowly frowns at the green water. ‘Um,’ he says to Fast Fish.

  Fast Fish is resting with his arm over his eyes. ‘Yes,’ he says tiredly.

  ‘Maybe some of us could push the raft.’

  He lifts his arm. ‘From the water? What about the sharks?’

  ‘There’s no sign of them now. You could look out for them.’

  ‘All right.’

  I join Burnt Earth, slip into the warm sea, taking away the heat from my body. We hold onto the bamboos and kick, which is great to get the feeling of the muscles in the legs working. I drop my head in the water and shake it, to try to fool my body that it is getting water. It doesn’t work. My throat now feels like sand and my stomach feels the hunger, like it has shrivelled to a knot. But it is better in the water, and we get Waterlily splashing with us.

  Eventually, we are replaced by The Wind and Moonlight, and we sprawl until the sun touches the sea. The sun leaks into the sky, into the water, and washes the kickers.

  Then Old Tortoise pulls his line from the water and there is no sign of the hook. ‘I felt a big fish on it,’ he says. ‘But the line couldn’t hold it.’

  For a moment I feel guilty, but I think that it doesn’t matter now.

  Fast Fish looks at the line, shrugs at Old Tortoise and claps his hands. ‘You will have to get out of the water now. We can’t see if there are sharks now . . .’

  I think that Fast Fish is sounding like Eagle Eye. It’s like the old angry warrior is drifting to slow worrier.

  He looks at me. ‘You better have a look at your little place. Just make sure that it is still there.’

  I nod and stagger up. I am still thinking about Fast Fish and I realise that I have got it wrong. He is not changing into Eagle Eye. It is the job, the Elder. The job that changes things. And then I see the sliver. ‘Oh.’

  ‘What?’ he says. ‘It’s gone?’

  ‘No, no. It’s still there. It’s just the same. No bigger.’

  ‘That fine. It’s there.’

  * * *

  The night is better. The stars are telling us where to go, there is a breeze behind us and that cools the paddlers as well as pushing us towards the sliver. I have a feeling that Shufflewing is looking over us and Eagle Eye has not left us. When I am paddling, I feel stronger than the day before, with a rhythm like Old Tortoise’s sticks. Even my parched throat is a little better. But I lick my arms often to get my salt and that somehow helps.

  But finally the stars begin to die to a wash of grey and I am frightened from that moment. I think, What if that sliver is gone? What if it’s little – a tiny island where all the birds go – and we miss it during the night . . .

  * * *

  The last star blinks out and the sky floods with pink as the sun peeps over the horizon. Fast Fish peers out there without standing, then shakes his head. He looks at me and then turns to Burnt Earth. ‘Get up.’

  I watch Burnt Earth wobble up and I am glad that he has the job.

  ‘Oh, oh . . .’ He is moving his mouth like a fish.

  ‘What, it’s gone?’

  ‘Come up, come up!’

  Fast Fish grabs his scalp and gets up. He hisses softly.

  I get up when he allows me and I see it.

  The sliver is now a thick line on the horizon. I can see that line is almost as big as the sun’s horizon, and there are bumps on it. Maybe mountains?

  ‘It is huge, isn’t it?’ Old Tortoise says.

  ‘I wish Eagle Eye could see this,’ The Wind whispers.

  Brown Moss looks down at his body. ‘He can.’

  * * *

  Nobody wants rest after that, but Fast Fish slows down all the paddlers when the sun is high. It is very annoying when you can see the land, but he is probably right and next day it will be close enough to look at it, maybe to step on to it.

  And then Moonlight dips her head and sniffs. ‘I can smell the land.’

  Fast Fish looks at dead Eagle Eye and fro
wns. ‘Are you sure?’

  There is now a smell coming from the body, but everyone is trying to ignore it.

  ‘I can pick up something,’ I say quickly. ‘Dust and maybe grass . . .’

  ‘Yes,’ Moonlight nods.

  Everyone tries to catch the whiff, but only Moonlight, me and The Wind can pick up the scent.

  Old Tortoise says that we have noses with a dream.

  I paddle towards the dusk, but then I stop.

  ‘What? Are you tired old man?’ says Burnt Earth. He is paddling with me.

  ‘I can hear surf.’

  Fast Fish hears me. ‘First we have your wild nose, and now your ears go mad. You are stupid. It cannot be surf, it’s too soon.’

  But Burnt Earth stops paddling and listens. ‘There is something . . .’

  Fast Fish jerks his head and scrambles up. Now he has heard the surf. ‘Oh, oh, that is too close.’

  Burnt Earth and I look at each other and then we clamber up from the bamboo. We can see the hills and a smear at the horizon in the faint light. There is a haze over those hills, and there are signs of little mountains further on from the hills. Those hills are still a long way away, but there are things before the hills. Things like high grass, a long beach running into the grass and blood-red cliffs. Those cliffs seem to catch the final lip of sun across the ocean. It is like Bird Island has reached across the vast ocean to kiss the new place. For a moment, my toes can almost feel the wet sand and touch the red cliffs – and then I see what is between us and that sand.

  ‘Oh,’ I say.

  There is surf which breaks over rocks. And the raft is catching the swells and is being pushed towards the rocks.

  ‘It’s too close,’ Fast Fish hisses and points to Burnt Earth and me. ‘Get down and paddle! And everyone move the raft!’

  We crash down to the bamboo as Fast Fish grabs the other paddle. Old Tortoise uses his hand; The Wind, Brown Moss and Moonlight kick from the raft – even Waterlily kicks. But we are so badly confused that we are working against each other. We don’t know where to paddle the raft. Paddle towards the rocks? No, no. Paddle back. Against the swells? They will beat us . . .

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Fast Fish shouts. ‘Get on with it.’

  ‘We don’t know where to go,’ Burnt Earth mumbles.

  ‘There, there.’ He is pointing at the lip of the sun. ‘Now!’

  We try to turn the raft, but the big swells stop us and hold the raft in position, heading towards the seething rocks. I look at Burnt Earth and then we shuffle to the other end of the raft without a word. The deep swells run under the raft, and it is hard to paddle in the dip and rise. We can’t see the surf – I guess that is something.

  Old Tortoise slowly says, ‘We are going into the rocks.’

  Fast Fish says nothing for a moment. ‘Yes.’ He shouts at everyone. ‘Paddle harder, harder . . .’

  ‘It won’t work,’ Old Tortoise gasps.

  ‘Shut up, shut up . . .’

  ‘There!’ Old Tortoise pushes a finger in the mist of the swells, which are crashing.

  ‘What? There is nothing there!’

  ‘It is there.’ Old Tortoise looks at me.

  ‘Um.’ And I see it. ‘Yes, yes.’

  ‘No breakers, no rocks,’ Old Tortoise says.

  ‘Nothing!’ I say.

  ‘I don’t know . . .’ Fast Fish says.

  ‘We have to try.’

  Fast Fish slaps his leg. ‘All right. Paddle back and follow Old Tortoise’s finger.’

  ‘No, not me.’ Old Tortoise pulls Waterlily up and shows her the break. She locks her right arm around his neck and points with her other arm. ‘Follow Waterlily,’ he says and begins paddling.

  We try to get the raft on the angle across the swells.

  I shuttle back around the people paddling with hands. We hurl these paddles, stupid banana leaves, and try to follow Waterlily’s quivering arm. Every time I look down I get lost with the swirling water around the raft, so I try to keep one eye on Waterlily’s arm and one eye on the end of the raft, but it isn’t working. I can feel the banana leaf paddle folding underwater, but my arms are trembling. I don’t understand that. Now I can hear the surf getting closer, and I can hear panting around me.

  ‘Good,’ Old Tortoise hisses. ‘We are getting there.’

  I can see Waterlily’s arm is now lined up with the corner of the raft. But now I can see the rocks in the rollers. There are only five waves between us and the rocks.

  Old Tortoise sees my shivering arms and punches my arm lightly. ‘Just paddle.’

  I go wild with the paddle for a long time, and then I begin to see the place Waterlily’s hand is pointing to. We are driving towards a foaming black rock on the other side, and the rock looks like a huge rat. There is a small channel between the rocks, but it is too far.

  ‘We can’t get there!’ Burnt Earth shouts.

  Brown Moss looks at Waterlily’s face and her shaking arm. ‘All right, that is enough. You know where we are going. Waterlily, come down and grab The Wind.’

  When The Wind reaches for her, Waterlily snatches at her hand and in a flash she clutches The Wind’s waist. And then she closes her eyes.

  In a moment, I wish that I could do that. The raft has only three waves to the rocks. I can see barnacles clutching the rocks, and foam running down them, so close. And then a big swell lifts the raft under the bamboos, picking it up to hurl it on the rocks like a spear.

  ‘Hang on!’ Fast Fish bellows.

  I open my mouth and I think I am yelling as I grip the edge of the raft. I can see where these bamboos will hit on the rocks, and someone is roaring. I even screw up my eyes but I can see the terrible crash on my eyelids . . .

  But the crash doesn’t happen, not here.

  I look and the raft is racing along the rocks with the foam and wild water. The raft bangs on the rocks several times and then there is a sliding impact, but we have survived – for a moment. We may get to the opening, but now the water has gone crazy, churning. Breakers are throwing themselves across the rock walls and then back into the frothing water – and there are fast waves coming out. The raft is spinning and hits both rock walls, and I feel it falling apart around me. And then the raft smashes into a rock and it disintegrates, and everyone is thrown into the midst of the wild water.

  For a long time, I am tumbling in the water, with no way to work out what is up or down. I think of The Wind and I feel something soft on my leg at one point, but I can’t see through the swirling white foam and bubbles. I can only concentrate on keeping the water out of my throat, but I am even losing that battle. I see the air escaping from my mouth as I roll and bounce. Finally I gasp – never mind that I know there will be a flood of dark water that will thunder into my throat. I can’t hold it.

  But that flood doesn’t happen.

  The water flows around my face and retreats. My lips taste sand and salt and I can smell seaweed. I lift my head, wipe my lips and see that I am on a short beach with dusk setting. I can see a lump on the backwash of the waves.

  The Wind!

  I stagger up, splash though the shallows and pull at the lump. It is Moonlight and I feel disappointed, but I shake it away. She is coughing water and whooping but she is alive. The Wind – all of them – could be alive on this beach. I am looking past her face.

  Then she pushes me away. ‘I’m all right. Go find them.’

  I step away, turn and shuffle off. And almost straight away I can see through the mists of the waves two people holding each other up – and there are two others behind them. The first people are lurching a bit, and one of them falls in the sand. I try to run to them but my legs are like jellyfish. As I move slowly to them I recognise Old Tortoise and then he falls on the sand. He gets himself up, takes a step and falls again.

  ‘All right, we stop here,’ gasps Fast Fish.

  The other two are closer and I see that it is Brown Moss and Burnt Earth. I swallow.

  Fast Fish
sags slowly to the sand and looks at me. ‘Have you – ’

  ‘Moonlight is back there and she is all right. Have you . . .’

  ‘The Wind and Waterlily? No. We will look. In a moment. Get Moonlight here.’

  I turn and stagger away with a lump of rock in my belly. I see Moonlight leaning on the sand, but something is wrong there. And then I see it and I try to run on the wet sand.

  It is not a single person. It is two – no, it is three!

  ‘The Wind!’

  She looks at me and points me out to Waterlily. They are wearing huge grins across their faces. The Wind gets up from Moonlight and Waterlily and wobbles towards me, clutches my shoulders and holds me close for a while. I can feel her body shaking.

  When she is ready, she lets go. We join the others and collapse on the sand.

  ‘We made it,’ Burnt Earth croaks.

  ‘Everyone made it,’ Moonlight says.

  Brown Moss says, ‘No. Not everyone.’

  Nobody says anything. We stare at the dying purpling sky, and then just sag down on damp sand and sleep . . .

  * * *

  Next morning, I wake up to a red sky and see Brown Moss has left. She is walking along the beach and looking at the waves. The others are still sleeping so I get up carefully to follow her. On the sand there is seaweed and shattered parts of the raft.

  Suddenly she splashes across the shallows and I can see the mound near the rocks where she is going to. I hurry to it and we pull Eagle Eye to the sand. He doesn’t look good – the rocks and pieces of the raft have attacked him.

  I say, ‘Well, we have him.’

  ‘Yes.’ She nods slowly and looks at the rocks, walks quickly to them and picks up a big stone from the shallows. She plants her feet on the shifting sands and swings her stone against a rock.

  It is terrible to watch. I try to look away, but I can’t.

  And everything changes.

  She hits the rock once more and she examines it. Then she puts her fingers inside, and plays in the part of the rock that she has hit. She then pulls something from there and puts it to her mouth. Then she suddenly hoots loudly.

  The others jerk awake and some of them start to get up. But I am closer to Brown Moss and I can work out the meaning of that hoot. I stagger to her and the rocks. She had found Eagle Eye and dragged him out of the water and that is it. It doesn’t matter if the body is damaged – he can’t feel it. So she looked around and saw shells clinging to the bottom of the rocks. She wasn’t attacking the rocks for what they did to Eagle Eye, but the shells – oysters! I grab a rock, join her, hit one of the ugly shells, pull out the slimy meat and slide it down my throat. Lovely.