Back on dry land, Mr Catch turned and looked at Scribble.
“You know, Scribble,” he said, “I feel like a pataphysical interlude just occurred…”
He looked puzzled as Scribble scribbled in his notepad furiously for several minutes. He held the pad up for Mr Catch to see.
OCTOPUS, it said.
“You are a strange boy, Scribble,” muttered Mr Catch, darkly, “however, I feel that has been well established by now, but what is less clear is this business about the moon.”
He waved his hand at the ocean.
“That sprightly young mermaid might just be able to help us, more considerate than Moby Doris, kinder of heart, and less prejudiced towards…ahem….fishermen, we need to speak to her urgently about the contents of this chest, for if I am not very much mistaken, the coral, the rope, the pearl and that fiendishly odd set of scribblings are the ingredients of some magical stuff, something powerful and dangerous, and yet also potentially adventure-solving… Just the sort of thing a mysterious and frankly mythological creature of the sea should be able to help us with.”
He stood up, feeling heroic, and tried striking a variety of noble poses, then realised something.
“There’s just one problem…,” he said, looking suddenly glum. “How are we, land-based organisms, going to venture beneath the salty waves?”
Now Scribble applied pencil to paper in a frantic and free manner, and after some little time had passed, handed the pad to Mr Catch.
“Well call me Ishmael and wipe my face with a flounder! A submersible!”
For what Scribble had drawn, nay designed, was exactly that. A fully equipped, deep sea diving, sub-marinal machine.
“Give me till tea time!” cried Catch, picking up a hammer and a sheet of metal that he found immediately at hand, “and I’ll be putting on the final lick of paint.”
And he was as good as his word…
Read the next instalment of the Big Blog Story at Alan Gibbons’ blog on September 24th: HERE