A tumult of cheers and shouts broke out. “Huzzay! Aye’Mate! Halloo!” The ship’s musicians struck up all instruments—trumpets, tin drums, cymbals, and bagpipes. Red Whale, meanwhile, seemed uninterested in the jubilant celebration. Pulling a small spyglass from his coat pocket, he put it to his eye and scanned the horizon. For some minutes he continued to gaze through his telescope, moving it back and forth as he inspected various points on the horizon.
At last, satisfied that the identification of the long-anticipated island was correct, Captain Gumberpott lowered the spyglass. Slipping it back in his pocket, he turned to Fishbum. Shouting to be heard above the blaring, honking, clanging and yelling, Red Whale yelled in Fishbum’s ear: “Get a flash gourd from the explosives case and bring it up here. Be quick about it.”
Doing as he was told, Fishbum ran off and soon returned carrying one of the small gourds packed with highly-explosive grain dust. He handed it to Red Whale who, with a hearty chuckle, lit the fuse and watched it burn, smoking in his hand for several seconds. Then he drew back his arm and tossed the flash gourd with all his strength far out over the water. Fishbum and Red Whale watched the smoking fuse trace a long curving arc across the sky.
KA-BOOM! The deafening explosion set up a huge geyser of water that sprayed back across the deck. The crew’s celebration stopped instantly, all eyes turned to Red Whale. “There,” the captain began, “thank you for accepting my pleasant little invitation to pay attention! Listen well! Stop acting like landlubber shopkeepers who’ve drunk too much coffee! We’ve got serious business ahead! That will be all the partying for now. We’re not safe to the harbor yet. We have some real sweating to do—all paws to your oar posts! The current will tear us to pieces if we’re not about our wits!”
The crew scattered quickly to their tasks. Pulling in the sails and securing them, opening the oar ports, and extending the long oars, they readied the ship to move under its own power. As the crew did their work, Red Whale explained the situation to Fishbum. “The first sight of Smokin’ Bill means we’re about to be in the grip of the Keel-Ripper. The Keel-Ripper is a tremendous, powerful current that runs on this side of Ice Fall Narrows. It runs like a mad beast right past the island. We can’t fight it. Once the Keel-Ripper takes us, we only choose which way it carries us. She’ll be hurling us through a string of rocks and reefs if we don’t have our wits with us! Here, mate, take the glass and have a look.”
Red Whale handed Fishbum his spyglass. The Lynx surveyed the sea that lay ahead. Frothing ripples clearly showed where the water surged at high speed across long stretches of rocky reefs. Fishbum did not need much imagination to picture the extreme danger they were facing.
“Now, we won’t be goin’ that way, mate. The reef’s sure destruction for us. Tryin’ to weave through the line of reefs—why, the Keel-Ripper’ll just skip us like a stone across the rocks...septin’ Daring Dream won’t skip none too good. We’d be torn to pieces in a wink.”
He paused for a moment, then clapped Fishbum on the shoulder and continued in a jovial tone. “But, we have a choice, mate. We can’t trust the winds, but rowin’ we have a chance of controlling the way the current carries us. With strong backs to the oars and a tiny bit of good luck, the Keel-Ripper’ll be throw’n us right through the Narrows to safe harbor. Just before the line of reefs begins, the current splits—one stream goin’ through the reefs, and the other pushing through the Narrows. Ride it through the Narrows and we hit the safe, deep bay on the other side. There’s a fine snug harbor there.” Having piloted through the Narrows before, Red Whale knew that working with the powerful tide was both highly dangerous and the only hope of safety. Using oars to keep the ship at the center of the surging current and steering with great care, the Keel-Ripper would push the ship safely through the Narrows to the other side of the island.
The captain had hardly finished speaking, when the ship lurched as if a mighty beast had grabbed it. “Pull on the oars—Now!” Red Whale yelled as the ship lurched, broadsided by the powerful current. “Row lively now, mates! We’ll be caught on the reefs if we don’t work it well! Row as if all and forever depended on it. Hard to the oars! Hard as ya can!”
Approaching the line of reefs, the frenzied crew below deck pulled at the oars. Captain Gumberpott, turning the wheel slightly, steered the ship down the narrow passage separating the line of reefs from the rugged coastline studded with rocks. Everywhere, sharp rocks and precipitous cliffs promised to dash a poorly piloted ship to pieces.