At the south end, the island was bisected by a narrow sea passage—the Ice Fall Narrows which gave the island its name. Some long ago earthquake had ripped the island in two. Only a narrow passage existed, barely twice the width of Daring Dream in a few places, but sufficient to pass safely with a wise pilot at the wheel. “Fight the Keel-Ripper and she will kill you,” Red Whale explained to Fishbum. “But ride with her and she will pull you through the Narrows—but even none of us can stop the Ice Fall if that be our fate!”
As Daring Dream slipped into the Narrows, sheer cliffs of rock, immensely high, could be seen rising ahead on both sides. Long runs of glacier ice could be seen, running up the side of Smoking Bill’s peak.
“Ayet, mates! Take a good look at the sky—that’ll be the last you see of it and Smokin’ Bill until we pop out the other side of the Narrows. We’ll be seein’ nothin’ but rocks, water, and fog for now.”
As the ship drew further and further into the Narrows, Red Whale commanded that all non-essential crew go below deck and close every possible hatch. “We’ll be crossing near the Ice Fall soon, and best for beasts to be below. Anyone on deck will be soaked with freezing water.” Halfway through the Narrows, a river flowing down off of Smoking Bill poured over the sheer, jagged, treeless cliff. The powerful fall of the river over time had eroded the far side of the Narrows, giving a wider passage for Daring Dream. Hugging the far wall of the Narrows, a ship could avoid the main force of the river falling into the sea-passage. But being fed by glaciers on the flanks of Smoking Bill, chunks of ice often were also carried over the falls. Sometimes the chunks were huge—the size of a rowboat or sometimes larger. When this “Ice Fall” occurred, it could easily destroy a ship. There was no telling what might be falling at any particular time.
Captain Gumberpott did not move or hesitate. “Fishbum,” he ordered, “get the moggets on. Here we go!” Fishbum and the few other crew-beasts left on deck quickly pulled on their moggets—waterproof lizard skin coats. Red Whale slightly turned the wheel to alter the course, pulling Daring Dream as wide as possible from the falling water. Below decks, two crew-beasts labored at every oar—twenty on each side of Daring Dream—to gently move the ship with the current. And with Captain Gumberpott’s experienced paw on the wheel, Daring Dream edged its way through a hideous graveyard of ships. The ghostly remains of smashed ships lay scattered around the waterfall, the ghastly ribs of keels poking up like great dead monsters.
Where the warm sea current mingled with the icy water coming off the mountain, thick fogs settled over the Narrows. Gloomy, swirling fog seemed to merge seamlessly with the gray water of the Narrows. Occasionally, a shaft of sunlight, pierced through a breech in the steep canyon walls and briefly lightened the lead-gray mist. But for the most part, Red Whale could barely see from one end of the ship to the other. Fishbum and several other seabeasts, stationed at points along the ship’s railing on all sides, peered into the fog, calling out warnings to guide Red Whale at the wheel: “Rocks to port—ten degrees starboard!”
As Daring Dream gradually worked her way deeper and deeper into the Narrows, the approach to the Ice Fall brought the booming echoes of huge chunks of ice falling into the water. Countless chunks of ice, some as large as a whale, others small as watermelon, now bobbed everywhere around the ship. The eerie sound of falling ice tested every nerve and often sent everyone by Red Whale scurrying for cover. SPLING! A box-sized piece of ice bounced off the side of Daring Dream, smashing two sets of oars. CRASH-SPLOOSH! A larger chunk broke off the bowsprit. CLINK-SPLINK-SPLING! A shower of chunks splattered the deck, one missing Red Whale only by inches. But the shower of ice chunks was even worse closer to the waterfall—WHA-SPLOOSH! A massive chunk sent up a geyser. Spray doused the Daring Dream’s deck.
“Crinoo! Hard on the oars, mates!” Red Whale yelled. “Pull for all you’re worth! Another twenty strokes and we’ll be clear of the fallin’ ice! Pull! Pull! Pull!”
WHA-SPLOOSH! Below decks the whole crew threw its muscles to the oars. Puffing and wheezing as they pulled, half suffocated in the stale air of beasts sweating and blowing, even the most seasoned felt sick as the ship tossed helter-skelter. Squalid air, seasickness, and fear all blended together as every beast frantically pulled to keep the ship out of the main path of the falling ice.
Frothing seawater splashed in through the long tear in the hull where the oar ports had been destroyed. Injured oar-beasts sloshed and stumbled toward the stairway to the upper deck calling for Banjo Saw, the ship’s doctor. Heeding the call of necessity, several beasts abandoned their oars and began working the manual pumps. Tense minutes passed. The creaking and groaning of the ship’s timbers had never seemed so fearsome.