Aunt Effie's Ark by Jack Lasenby Page B

changed, and we drifted north again, Peter said, “We’re just getting blown this way and that. We need tools to make masts and sails.”
    The little ones had explored more of the ship than the rest of us. They led Peter to the ship’s workshop. It had a carpenter’s bench and vice, and a blacksmith’s forge and anvil. All the tools including cross-cut saws, scissors, pit-saws, pins, marlinspikes, a pedal-driven Singer sewing machine, ropes, fids, blocks, thimbles, timber-jacks, gluts, mauls, sailmaker’s palms and needles, all the gear necessary to rig and run a ship hung around the bulkheads. Still keeping their fingers crossed, Peter and Marie sewed a net that we cast over the stern and caught a kauri log floating by.
    We hoisted it, using ropes and blocks from the workshop .We built a frame, jacked the log across, and pit-sawed it into planks. It was like being back in the bush again, working the kauri, only we sawed some planks a bit crooked because of our fingers being crossed.
    We steamed the planks, chamfered, overlapped, and clenched them with copper rivets and washers, and made a clinker-built dinghy. We broke another bottle of Aunt Effie’s champagne over its bow and named it The Dog’s Hind Leg because of the crooked planks, and because somebody who wouldn’t own up put in a couple of ribs upside down. Putting in ribs isn’t easy when your fingers are crossed.
    We hoisted some long logs on deck, and adzed them into shape for the masts, spars, yards, and booms. It was difficult, but we managed to do it with our fingers crossed.
    We remembered how to rig sheerlegs, raised the mizzen-mast towards the stern, and lowered it through holes cut in all the decks till its heel rested on a broad step. We adzed a bowsprit, capped it with greenheart, gammoned and frapped it to the stem with chains and lashings, and snugged it home with a wrapping of cow hides so it wouldn’t work and let water into the fo’c’sle.
    â€œWhy does it stick up so high?” asked Lizzie.
    â€œThat angle’s called the steeve. It keeps the headsails and gear out of the water when the ship pitches,” said Peter. “And it gives the jib more lift.”
    We rigged a capstan for’ard, ran a wire rope from it through a snatch-block out on the bowsprit, and back to the top of the mainmast.
    Ann and Becky had made friends with the cabinful of powerful gorillas. With their help, and the little onessinging a shanty to give us the time, we heaved on the capstan bars. Down in the bilges, Peter knelt to slip a gold sovereign under the mainmast. The ship rolled over to one side, the mast slipped, and water rushed in. His hand trapped under the mast, Peter was unable to stand as the water rose towards his mouth.
    And just at that moment, Ann screamed, “ Something’s sucked all the blood out of one of the sheep!”

Chapter Eleven
Rigging Aunt Effie’s Ark
    Even the powerful gorillas couldn’t lift the foot of the mast off Peter’s hand. The elephant tried, but shook his head. The ship lay on her starboard side, the mast askew. Down in the bilges, the water kept rising towards Peter’s mouth.
    The elephant hung on to the bulwark with his trunk and leaned out to port to try and bring the ship back. We ran around the deck screaming and getting in each other’s way.
    â€œMan the pumps!” Marie shouted to the gorillas. “Rig sheerlegs!” she ordered us.
    From down in the bilges, Peter yelled, “Keep your fingers crossed!” The water was rising over his mouth so we only heard, “Bubble bubble bubble!”
    The gorillas pumped manfully so water squirted over the sides, but down in the bilges it kept rising. Peter had to close his mouth and breathe through his nose.
    â€œI know what the trouble is!” said Daisy and ran into the hold.
    The rest of us screamed, tripped over each other,and hung a block from the sheerlegs. Our fingers