The Secret Diary of . . . Shipwreck Chippy
Shipwreck Chippy sent word to the crew that he was sick, and retreated to a far corner of the raft.
A sheet was hung over four small poles to isolate him and serve as a kind of quarantine station.
No more was heard from him for the rest of the day.
“Well that’s great,” grumbled one of the crew. “Here we are, lost at sea, and he’s got a sniffle and can’t get out of bed.”
“He can’t help that he’s sick,” said one of Shipwreck Chippy’s few remaining loyal lieutenants.
“So what?” came the bitter reply.
“Man up.”
“Give him a break.”
“What use is a captain who’s too poorly to lead?”
“That’s not fair.”
“He’s useless.”
“We all applauded him last week.”
They thought back to the tremendous speech he had made the previous week. Many thought it was the finest performance he ever gave — it was sharp, funny, direct, concise, and full of hope and purpose. Afterwards, Shipwreck Chippy said to the crew, “We have momentum!”
But now he had fallen silent, and their raft seemed to drift in circles.
TUESDAY
Nothing more was heard from Shipwreck Chippy.
Some of the crew did their best to stay busy. They washed their clothes and hung them out to dry. They cleaned their bowls and utensils and dried them with a cloth. They huddled beneath a piece of sailcloth and shared their provisions — water, chocolate, milk tablets, barley sugar, fish paste and a bottle of lime juice.
But supplies were running low. There was a terrible certainty that even if they did find land, not all of the crew would survive.
They had doubts about WillowJean Prime. They had doubts about Andrew Little. They had doubts about David Parker.
They also had doubts about Willie Jackson, but there was nothing new about that.
WEDNESDAY
Nothing more was heard from Shipwreck Chippy.
They had been lost at sea for many months. Some of the crew cried out in their sleep for their former skipper, Cap’n Jacinda, who was in command when they sailed a beautiful red ship. But she left her post and not long afterwards the ship capsized.
Shipwreck Chippy was given credit for organising a raft, and as captain of their pathetic vessel — the timber raft was rotting, and so were the ties that lashed the planks to oil drums which kept it afloat — he had tried his best to boost morale and reassure the crew that they would find land sooner or later.
His most loyal lieutenants remembered his stirring message: “We have momentum!”
THURSDAY
Some of the crew had forgotten what Shipwreck Chippy looked like.
FRIDAY
Shipwreck Chippy emerged from isolation. He didn’t look none too good. He was as pale as the sheet that had quarantined him all week, and he seemed to have trouble raising his voice. He walked slowly across the raft and stared out to sea. “How you feeling, captain?” “Good to have you back.” “Saved some fish paste for you.” “One of the planks washed away but it’s all good.”
Shipwreck Chippy thanked the crew, consulted his charts, and stared out to sea again. There could be no doubt about it. He was sure of it. They really did have momentum! The only problem was that the momentum had carried the raft backwards.
He retreated behind his sheet for a lie-down.