Kensuke's Kingdom. Michael Morpurgo

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Bill warned us about the Bay of Biscay, so we were expecting it to be bad, and it was. Force 9 gale. Force 10 sometimes. We were slammed about all over the place. I thought we’d sink. I really did. Once, when we came up on to the top of a wave, I saw the bow of the Peggy Sue pointing straight up at the moon. It was like she was going to take off. Then we were hurled down the other side so fast I was sure we were going to the bottom. It was bad. I mean it was horrible, really horrible. But the Peggy Sue didn’t fall apart, and we made it to Spain.

      Mum gets quite snappy with us sometimes when we don’t do things right. Dad doesn’t seem to mind, not out here, not at sea. He just winks at me and we get on with it. They play a lot of chess together, when it’s calm enough. Dad’s winning so far, five games to three. Mum says she’s not bothered, but she is. I can tell.

      We only spent a couple of days in La Coruña.

      Mum slept a lot. She was really tired. Dad did some work on the rudder cable while we were there. He’s still not happy with it, though. We set off for the Azores two days ago.

      Yesterday was the best day we’ve had for sailing. Strong breeze, blue sky, and warm sun to dry things out. My blue shorts blew off the washing line into the sea. It doesn’t matter. I never liked them much anyway. We saw gannets slicing into the sea all around us this afternoon. Really excellent. Stella Artois went mad.

      I’m fed up with baked beans already, and there’s still stacks of them down below.

      October 11

      Today I saw Africa! It was in the distance but Mum said it was definitely Africa. We’re going down the west coast. Mum showed me on the chart. The wind will

      take us down the coast for a few hundred miles then across the Atlantic to South America. We mustn’t drift off course, else we’ll get into the Doldrums. There’s no wind there at all, and we could just sit there becalmed for weeks, for ever maybe.

      It’s the hottest day we’ve had. Dad’s very red in the face, and the tops of his ears are peeling. I’m more nutty brown, like Mum.

      Saw flying fish early this morning and so did Stella. Then Mum spotted a shark off the port bow. A basking shark, she thought. I got the binoculars out, but I never saw it. She said I had to write it down in my notebook anyway, and then draw

      it. I looked them up. They’re massive, but they don’t eat people, just fish and plankton. I like doing my drawings. My best one so far is a flying fish.

      I sent a card to Eddie from the Cape

      Verde Islands. I wish he could be here. We’d have a real laugh.

      Stella loves to chase the football round the cabin, and pounce on it. She’ll puncture it one day, I know she will.

      Dad’s been a bit gloomy, and Mum’s gone to lie down. She’s got a headache. I think they’ve had a bit of a tiff. Don’t know what about exactly, but I think it’s about chess.

      November 16

      We’ve just left Recife. That’s in Brazil. We were there four days. We had a lot of repairs to do on the boat. Something was wrong with the wind generator and the rudder cable’s still sticking.

      I’ve played football in Brazil! Did you hear that, Eddie? I’ve played football in Brazil, and with your lucky football. Dad and me were just having a kick about on the beach, and before we knew it we had a dozen kids joining in. It was a proper game. Dad set it up. We picked sides. I called my side Mudlarks and he called his Brazil, so they all wanted to play on his side, of course.

      But Mum joined in on my side and we won. Mudlarks 5 – Brazil 3. Mum invited them back for a Coke on board afterwards. Stella growled at them and bared her teeth, so we had to shut her down in the cabin. They tried out their English on us. They only knew two words: ‘Goal’ and ‘Manchester United’. That’s three, I suppose.

      Mum had the films developed. There’s one of some leaping dolphins, another of me at the winch. Mum at the wheel, another of Dad hauling down the

      mainsail and making a right mess of it. There’s one of me diving off a rock into the sea when we stopped in the Canaries. There’s one of Dad fast asleep and sunbathing on deck and Mum giggling. She’s about to dribble the sun cream all over his tummy. (I took that one, my best photo.) Then there’s one of me doing my maths, sulking and sticking my tongue out.

      December 25

      Christmas Day at sea. Dad found some carols on the radio. We had crackers, all of them a bit soggy so none of them cracked, and we had the Christmas pudding Gran made for us. I gave them a drawing each – my flying fish for Dad and one of the skipper, in her hat, at the wheel for Mum. They gave me a really neat knife they’d bought in Rio. So I gave a coin back. You’re supposed to do that. It’s for luck.

      When we were in Rio we gave the Peggy Sue a good scrub down. She was looking a bit manky inside and outside, but she’s not any more. We took on a lot of stores and water for the long haul

      to South Africa. Mum says we’re doing fine, just so long as we keep south, so long as we stay in the west-to-east South Atlantic current.

      We passed south of an island called St Helena a few days ago. No need to stop. Nothing much there, except it’s the place where Napoleon was exiled. He died there. Lonely place to die. So, of course, I had to do a history project on Napoleon. I had to look him up in the encyclopaedia and write about him. It was quite interesting, really, but I

      didn’t tell them that.

      Stella’s sulking on my bunk. Maybe it’s because no one gave her a Christmas present. I offered her a taste of Gran’s Christmas pudding, but she hardly gave it a sniff. Can’t say I blame her.

      I saw a sail today, another yacht. We shouted Happy Christmas and waved, and Stella barked her head off, but they were too far away. When the sail disappeared, the sea felt suddenly very empty.

      Mum won the chess this evening. She’s ahead now, twenty-one games to twenty. Dad said he let her win because it was Christmas. They joke about it, but they both want to win.

      January 1, 1989

      Africa again! Cape Town. Table Mountain. And this time we’re not just sailing by – we’re going to put in there. They told me this evening. They didn’t want to tell me before in case we couldn’t afford it, but we can. We’re going to stay for a couple of weeks, maybe more. We’re going to see elephants and lions in the wild. I can’t believe it. I don’t think they can either. When they told me, they were like

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