The Spagonaut saga
The concept had its genesis in faraway Funchal, where Edgar Jessop was due to compete in the Grand Epreuve de Madeira on the treacherous Spagforth Piranha.
However, due to the alleged effects of global warming, water levels had risen to such an extent that the public roads race track around Porto de Funchal harbour lay underwater, resulting in the cancelation of the race. Freed from his on-track duties, Edgar accepted an invitation from Governor Jose Garcia Camacho to spend the weekend on his floating palace which was liberally stocked with fine Portuguese wines and exotic food, with a crew mainly composed of captured Moroccan maidens. Upon his somewhat reluctant return to the dreary Spagforth works in Giggleswick, Edgar expected a typically withering reception from Sir Carruthers Spagforth, but after explaining the natural phenomenon that had intervened to curtail the race, he was surprised to note a wry smile break into the craggy features of the guvnor. Stashed in nearby warehouses, disused WW1 hangers, barns and sheds lay literally hundreds of the utterly contemptible Spagforth Scuttlebutt models – a motorcycle so vile that even the mention of its name by employees meant instant dismissal. “Global warming…rising waters…”, the boss was heard to mutter, before rising quickly from his sumptuous Yak leather chair and charging out of his office, leaving a bemused Edgar alone. Soon after, there appeared on the Spagforth test track, a curious half-canoe, half-motorcycle device, which had been code-named the Spagonaut. Incredibly, the saturnine and ungainly device passed its seaworthiness trials with only minimal seepage, and Sir Carruthers declared that, faced with the global warming threat, “No home should be without one!” An exhaustive and expensive publicity campaign was instigated and an elaborate network of motorcycle dealers and yacht brokers appointed. Alas, a fatal blow to the project was struck when Turkish corsairs purloined the prototype when it was undergoing tests off Teneriffe. It was painted black and with a skull and crossbones flag aloft, thereafter engaged in high piracy in the Mediterranean before a concerted search-and-destroy mission resulted in the craft being sunk by a Spanish navy submarine. After a multi-nation enquiry, the Spagonaut was declared to be an instrument of war, and therefore subject to the Geneva Convention. Accordingly, no one would be allowed to operate one without comprehensive military training and governmental approval.
Despite invoking favours from friends in Whitehall, Sir Carruthers was unable to overturn the ruling, and the Spagonaut project passed into history, along with so many other Spagforth fiascos such as the Spagforth Dine-o-Soar, an airborne restaurant powered by the same Scuttlebutt engine.