Well I have had a lovely week holidaying at Wolf Lodge, as usual, on Sunset Beach.
It did not pass without incident, however.
One stormy night, word came of a schooner in trouble on the rocks. It's two man crew had managed to get into a small boat but were in serious danger.
The weather was so bad we could not launch the lifeboat so we all rushed up to Rocket Field. This is where the lifeboat men launch rockets to ships in distress. The rocket contains a line so that a breeches-buoy can be set up twixt ship and shore.
The small boat that the crew was in was too small to act as a target for the rocket. I am not sure if I have ever mentioned what a splendid swimmer I am, being rather modest, but I have received many gold medals for my prowess.
So, being the best swimmer there, I, somewhat heroically I might add, volunteered to be fired towards the boat. I then intended to swim to it and attach the line.
Unfortunately things did not go quite according to plan. The Old Monkey's aim was a bit too precise. I landed on the boat, of an inferior and weak design, and it split asunder beneath my weight.
Luckily, being such an able swimmer, the crew were able to climb aboard my back whilst we were pulled ashore. A little undignified but everyone was most grateful for my quick thinking and selfless regard for those in peril at sea.
We adjourned to Wolf Lodge and were soon comforted by buckets of cocoa.
It then came to light how this 'accident' had befallen the schooner. The Captain assured us that he had been keeping careful watch but had mistaken a large light on the coast for the lamp of the lighthouse. When we discovered his cargo our suspicions were roused. He had been carrying a hold full of barrels of Black Tom.
"Wreckers !" cried out, my detective, A.B.Fox. "The Badfort Crowd will be behind this!" added Goodman.
We set out, with the Coastguards, to investigate and before long came across a large fire burning on the cliff top. Then the One-armed Badger spotted a cart trundling away in the distance - filled with barrels.
Beaver Hateman's singing was carried across the bay by the wind.
Fifteen men on Sigismund's chest Yo ho ho and a bottle of Black Tom.
Drink and the devil had done for the rest Yo ho ho and a bottle of Black Tom.
Uncle was fixed by Hitmouses's skewer The Old Monkey brained with a barrel And the Foxe's throat was marked belike It had been struck by duck bombs ten; And there they lay, the fat elephants followers Like break o'day in a boozing ken Yo ho ho and bottle of Black Tom.
The Coastguards gave chase but they were well on their way to Badfort.
Waldovenison Smeare has made a painting depicting this despicable event.