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Lost the Plot - Episode 5. The Journey. Part 1


By Monkey1 & Crouch n'Hold
July 25 2006

In the first grey light of the morning some of the players began to wake. The fires still burned, kept alive by those who were restless in the night. As the light grew stronger they were able to see each other & they started to check to see if anyone had gone missing during the dark hours.

Nobody else had disappeared after the terrifying moment when the wasps had taken Walder. They stayed together in groups hoping that would afford some protection from the force they now called ‘the elbow’.

 

Anna may be a short arse but dressed in her tight jeans & tee shirt she was an intimidating figure. Since the disappearances the previous evening she had become stroppy and was not someone to argue with.

 

“We will all stay together in groups”. She commanded. “If any more strange things happen, tigers, others, or even udders or otters, and especially the elbow you will huddle together for protection. Do you understand?”

 

The players cowered silently, the new Spanish inflection in her voice frightened them.

 

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” she repeated loudly

 

Murmurs of cowering consent came from the players.

 

“We are hungry, we must eat so we are strong when they come. All the forwards this time, that includes you” she ordered, pointing at the hookers “you will go to the rock pools and bring back food. If you see anything strange you will huddle until it is safe. Nobody goes into the jungle unless I say so. You will find food and you will all come back, now go quickly”.

 

The forwards lumbered off obediently, terrified of this powerful woman.

 

The backs sat around in groups not knowing what to do. Jonny & Sparks decided it was safe to go for a morning run.

 

“Where are you two going?” Anna barked.

 

“Just a short run along the shore”. Replied Jonny

 

“Sit”. Ordered Anna.

 

“But we weren’t going very …”

 

“SIT DOWN, it is not safe”. She shouted & the brothers sat obediently on the sand.

 

Burkey collected his driftwood surf board & headed for the sea.

 

“Stay with the group”. Ordered Anna.

 

“Aaah shove it Sheila”. Replied Burkey as he walked away “Coming Spud?” he asked over his shoulder. Spud collected his board & joined his Aussie mentor.

 

“Come back” she ordered “you don’t know what dangers there are in the water”.

 

“We’ll be foyne won’t we Spud mate. Naaah, just a few shaaarks, we can deal with them. They niver boite us away from home.”

 

Anna fumed silently. She must stamp out dissent, somehow she was going to keep them all alive. She would find a way to deal with Crocodile Dundee later.

 

Anna ordered the rest of the backs together & started dividing them into groups. They would be armed and would sleep in shifts.

 

“Armed with what exactly, fly swats?” scoffed Mayerhofler.

 

The players started chattering & with the return of the forwards with food for breakfast they broke up into the disorganised chaos that is normal for the Falcons.

 

After breakfast they formed into their usual little groups. Anna went over to sit with Rob, Walton & Blackie, hoping she could use their influence to organise the players into a fighting force.

 

“We need to make them realise that they will have to fight to stay alive in this place”. She said.

 

“Well we’ve been thinking it would be better to get out of this place”. Said Walton. “Rob is putting together a plan”.

 

“Oh great”. She replied sarcastically.

 

“Look we face challenges” said Rob “but we have some outstanding young talent coming through. I believe that we have the right people coming together to take us forward. On the day we can …”

 

“How long?” barked Anna.

 

“It is always difficult to predict” soothed Rob “it depends on injuries we may suffer, it is not an easy…”

 

“How long?” repeated Anna.

 

“It is impossible to say accurately but I believe that within 5 years…”

 

“5 Years” Anna almost screamed.

 

“Now howay pet, divvun gan getting yersel aal worrked up like”. Said Blackie putting his arm round the now hysterical Anna.

 

 

“What’s cookin fellas?” asked Burkey who had strolled over to see what the commotion was about, still dripping from his spot of surfing.

 

“Anna’s a bit upset, aren’t yu pet” explained Blackie “aboot wer plan at gettin away from the danger zern tekkin a bit long like”.

 

“Strewth.” Muttered Burkey “Jus moike a bleedin raaaft. Haaalf the lads er from Newcaaastle, foinest ship building ploice on earth. Oim sure they can build a blaaady raaaft.

 

“Oi Micky” he shouted “get yer aaarse over here will ya”.

 

Micky trundled over as only Micky can. A plumber by trade & coming from Wallsend he had to be an expert shipbuilder.

 

 

“Roite Micky. We need to build a raaaft ter git us awoy frum here”.

 

“Ah reet, aye canny, canny”. Replied the prop

 

“Will de yu think yu cun moike one thinn?”

 

“Na. Nivver.” Replied Micky.

 

There was a bit of what for some unknown reason is known as a pregnant pause.

 

“Wull mek yu a bert nay bovver but nivver a raft”.

 

“A bert?” asked Burkey.

 

“Aye man, a bert, like a syailin bert yer naa, a smaal ship man, a bert”.

 

Burkey caught on to the general idea but as far as language was concerned they could have been from opposite ends of the planet.

 

“Royte, de yu think yu could organoise the lids tu moike this, erm, bert then?”

 

“Way aye man.”

 

“Yull need timber thinn, where yu gonna git noils?”

 

“Ah hang on bonny lad, hang on just a minute like. Wuv nivver made wooden berts at Waaalsend fer donkeys, wull mek it oot er metal like, mek it proppa like”.

 

Utterly perplexed at this outburst of Geordie the poor Aussie turned to Blackie for a translation.

 

“Aye man e said eel mek it oot er metal like, yer naa, like a proppa job yer naa”.

 

Burkey, non the wiser decided to call it a day, his brain was beginning to hurt after this onslaught of Geordie. Micky appeared to be organising some sort of workforce who were already making drawings in the sand & inspecting the wrecked plane for salvage.

 

They found the toolbox in the tail of the plane & that yielded some useful items. With a pair of tin snips they were able to gently cut away the edges of the metal panels that made up the plane.

 

An angle grinder was a real gem of a find which quickly removed the rivets so they could separate the metal sheets. They found a compressor & various air tools with which they could form & shape the metal panels.

 

The oxy-acetylene welding equipment that they found came in useful for joining the panels into a boat like structure, the 5 ton crane tucked away behind the first aid kit made handling much easier. Hidden away in the back of the luggage compartment was a JCB with which they dug out a dry dock to build their little boat in.

 

In just a week they had thrown together something that would be sea worthy & able to carry all of them safely across vast distances of ocean.

 

The Geordies stood back & admired their creation.

 

 

“Wow, that’s like quite something man”. Said Joe Shaw in his usual laid back manner. “Hey, we could go like anywhere man, that’s cool, that’s really cool”. Joe wandered off whistling a little tune as usual, his 5 second inspection having exhausted his attention span.

 

“Nice work guys”. Said Jamie. “You must be really proud of her”.

 

“Aye”. Said Micky looking very proud, then a frown fell across his face.

 

“Aw bugger.” He said “Wuz nivver went on strike at aall. Yu canna build a bert n not gan on strike, it’s like not proppa”.

 

Burkey began to think about organising a crew for the bert, I mean boat. Obviously he would be captain, or Cap’n as he would have to get used to while aboard. He needed someone used to ships, a proper old sea dog to head up his crew of land lubbers.

 

He sent for Perry to join him in his quarters, well on his patch of sand.

 

Perry stood ram rod stiff to attention.

 

 

“Yessa”. He said, stamping his immaculately polished boots.

 

“Ah Perry, you were in the Marines I understand”. Said Burkey.

 

“Nossa”. He replied.

 

“But I was told..”.

 

“Royal Marines Sa”.

 

“Ah yes, sorry about that old boy, too long away in the colonies. Now we appear to be in a spot of bother old chap, was rather hoping you could help out”.

 

“Yessa”. Answered Perry in his rather limited vocabulary.

 

Burkey continued in a voice that was reminiscent of James Mason “I need you to be my number one Perry. It is a tough call, I need you to organise a crew for this ship and be ready to sail at morning tide at oh nine hundred hours”.

 

“Yessa”. Was the not unexpected reply.

 

That appeared to be the end of the communication process so First Officer Perry was dismissed.

 

Perry was seen to be busy all day selecting the crew on the basis of whether or not they had military enough hair cuts & could polish a pair of boots. He soon had them stamping around pointlessly on the sand. None of the training seemed to have anything to do with sailing a ship but it sounded impressive enough, lots of shouting of “Ayer’un” and “A’eese”.

 

The following morning they were ready to set sail with the morning tide. They had used the JCB to dig a channel to the sea, the ship now floated on the sea like a living thing, a testimony to the craftsmanship of the Geordie players.

 

The Cap’n sat at the back of the bridge, well that is what they called the metal boxy thing that all the people who pretended to be important crowded into. Perry the Number One peered into the binnacle. He didn’t know why but the Number One always peers into the binnacle. The builders didn’t know what it was either but knew there should be a pipey thing at the front of the boxy thing so they stuck the toilet outlet pipe from the plane there & that is what Perry the Number One kept sticking his face into.

 

It all looked ship shape & Bristol fashion.

 

With everyone looking like they knew what they were doing it was finally time to set sail. Micky had appointed himself Chief Engineer & disappeared down a hatch at the back of the boat, or aft of the ship as it must now be known.

 

“Take her out Number One”. Said Cap’n Burke, now with a pipe clenched between his teeth in proper Naval Captain fashion, & despite the heat he had a towel wrapped around his neck as he had seen in the old war movies. The Pilot’s cap which he had found in the wreckage of the plane completed the image.

 

 

 The story continues in part 2, see link below.

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