Ocean SOS Read online

  “Poor thing,” gasped Zoe. “Is it Fingal?”

  “Can’t tell,” answered Ben. “We’ll have to go back down. I’ll use my knife to cut it free, but we mustn’t be seen.”

  “Agreed,” nodded Zoe. “We’ll approach from underneath the hull – but keep away from the propeller.”

  They dived under the bottom of the fishing boat.

  Zoe checked for holes in the nylon mesh, and signalled a negative to Ben.

  Ben held the net to steady himself as he pulled his knife from its sheath. The net gave a great lurch and the dolphin’s head appeared, as it pushed its nose desperately against its prison.

  Ben tugged at Zoe’s arm and pointed to a jagged scar running from its eye to just below its mouth.

  They had found Fingal!

  CHAPTER SIX

  This isn’t working, thought Ben, as he worked away with the knife. The more frightened Fingal becomes, the more he tangles himself up. If we don’t free him soon, he’ll run out of air.

  Cutting a net underwater was slippery work without a terrified dolphin to contend with. Each time Ben tried to break the net, Fingal would thrash, and he narrowly escaped cutting his hand. He’d lost his grip on his knife several times and it would have been on the seabed by now if it hadn’t been attached to his belt by a cord.

  Fingal writhed again and Ben nicked his hand with the knife. Ignoring the stinging pain, he attacked the net again and managed to slice through two strands.

  Zoe could see how Fingal’s struggles were hampering the rescue attempt. She swam to where his head was caught. He stared at her for a moment with frantic eyes, then started wriggling again. Zoe caught his snout through the net and patted his head.

  Fingal calmed down a little. Ben cut through another strand, then another and tugged at the broken threads.

  Zoe helped Ben tear at the thick nylon net. And suddenly Fingal thrust his snout through. The children ripped the hole wider, feeling the harsh nylon digging into their hands. At last they managed to drag it over the dolphin’s head. After another tug, his flippers were free. But now the net was caught on his dorsal fin. Ben and Zoe took hold of the net and pulled hard. With a flick of his tail, Fingal burst through the hole and shot up to the surface.

  But now Zoe was worried. When the fishermen saw the young dolphin and the hole in their net they might be angry enough to do something nasty to him. The net was rising slowly through the water, fish spilling out as the men winched it up. Zoe swam up on the other side of the boat to look for Fingal and lure him away. There he was, leaping in and out of the water, trying to attract the attention of the fishermen. Luckily, they were too busy cursing at the loss of their catch to notice him.

  Zoe waved frantically at Fingal and then dived under the water. To her huge relief, the dolphin came swimming towards her. His face looks as though he’s grinning, thought Zoe. He nudged her gently in the tummy and then swam on his back. She dived down deeper, and he followed. He’s used to humans, she thought. We’ll have no trouble keeping him with us.

  She could see Ben now. But he seemed to be still fiddling with the net. And then she saw why. The cord securing his knife to his belt had tangled in it. He was stuck.

  Ben was struggling desperately to free his knife. He could unclip the cord and swim away, leaving the knife in the nylon mesh, but the fishermen would be sure to see it and know that the net had been tampered with. What’s more, Ben couldn’t risk losing the knife. He didn’t know when he might need it again.

  Then he tasted peppermint. The GIL was running out of air. He tore at the net. He was having to hold his breath now. He was good at that, but would it be enough?

  He felt a hand on his. It was Zoe. She worked with nimble fingers, nudging Fingal away when he got too close. At last, the knife was free. And just in time – the net shot up above the surface, sending Ben somersaulting backwards through the water.

  Ben and Zoe were just about to kick away from the boat when a tremendous roar filled their ears and the water churned around them. The propeller was beginning to turn. Now that what was left of the catch was in, the fishermen had started their engine.

  Whoosh! Fingal was gone, terrified by the noise and sudden swirling of the water. Above them, the boat began to move.

  Ben kicked away hard to avoid the blades. His lungs were bursting now. He thrashed to the surface and gulped the air in relief.

  Zoe swam up alongside him. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” said Ben, “now that I’ve got some air.”

  “Where’s the blood coming from?”

  Ben looked at the cut on his hand. “It’s nothing,” he assured her. “I nicked myself with my knife. The important thing is, where’s Fingal now?”

  “We’ll be able to search for him better when we’re back in the dinghy,” said Zoe. “He can’t be far away.”

  As they swam, Ben looked around. “You’re right! I think I can see his fin,” he said, pointing at the horizon. “And he’s heading towards us at speed.”

  Zoe trod water and checked her BUG. “That’s not Fingal,” she said. “In fact it’s not a dolphin at all. Swim for the boat!”

  “What’s the matter?” said Ben.

  “It’s a shark!”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ben and Zoe thrashed through the waves, the water pounding in their ears. Even with their superfast flippers they were no match for the expert underwater killer that was streaking towards them, attracted by the blood. Ben couldn’t stop himself taking a quick glance backwards under the surface. He wished he hadn’t. He caught sight of the shark’s tiny eyes and needle-sharp teeth. Surely it would reach them before they could get to safety. He kicked desperately – he wasn’t going to be shark food!

  Zoe reached the dinghy first. Ben saw her legs disappearing from the water as she scrambled aboard. With a final burst of energy, he launched himself at the boat. He felt a surge behind him as the shark lunged for him.

  He tried to pull himself up out of the water, but in his panic he lost his grip on the side of the boat and plunged back in. He could see the ominous grey shape of the shark circling beneath him, ready to attack again. The blood from his hand was trailing out in a thin ribbon, exciting the hungry predator. Ben clawed at the side of the dinghy, kicking in desperation. Then, just as the shark lunged, he felt Zoe clutch his arm and pull him to safety.

  Ben tumbled on to the deck, as the shark cannoned into the boat. He lay there, panting, while Zoe clung fearfully to the side and watched the grey body whipping round this way and that, battering the craft as it tried to locate its prey.

  “We’ve got to get away!” she gasped. “It could capsize the dinghy.”

  Shaking, she clambered on to her seat, pulled off her snorkelling gear and put up the sails. Soon the dinghy was nipping over the waves away from the bay. But the shark wasn’t giving up. Its grey fin could be seen copying every course change they made.

  Ben scrolled down the menu of his BUG. “It’s a bull shark,” he read from the screen. “They often attack without provocation. So my blood must have really stirred it up.”

  “It’s coming straight for us,” yelled Zoe.

  “It’s going to ram us again!” cried Ben.

  The shark slowed just before it reached them and swerved away.

  “That was a practice run, I think,” said Zoe. “Look, it’s coming again.”

  “I’ll find a predator to scare it,” muttered Ben, scrolling through the BUG menu, his fingers slipping in his haste.

  Now the shark was almost upon them, its fin cutting through the water like a blade.

  “I’ve set the limpet to give out a killer whale sound,” he said quickly. “I hope it works. The bull shark isn’t frightened of many creatures.”

  The sound must have reached the shark because it suddenly changed course. With a flick of its powerful tail, it was gone.

  “Good thinking,” said Zoe in relief.

  “Thanks for earlier,” Ben said.
“You saved my life.”

  Zoe shrugged. “Who’s going to scrub the decks if my cabin boy gets eaten by a shark?”

  Ben laughed. “I’ll do it the minute we’ve found Fingal.”

  “That’s not going to be so easy,” said Zoe seriously. “He was badly scared by that boat engine. He could be a long way off by now.”

  “Remember what the lady at the hire place told us.” Ben removed his mask and flippers, then threw Zoe her life jacket. They put them back on, tying the straps firmly.

  At that moment, they heard an engine.

  “Look out,” said Ben. “There’s a cabin cruiser approaching.”

  “Ahoy there!” came a cry.

  A man stood at the cruiser’s prow. The vessel came alongside and they heard the engine slowing.

  “Don’t forget, we’re just dumb tourists,” Zoe muttered to Ben.

  “Not hard for you,” Ben muttered back.

  The man peered down at La Gaviota over the side of the cruiser.

  “Do you speak English?” he called loudly and slowly. He had an American accent. He was joined by a woman in dark sunglasses.

  Zoe grinned. “We are English.”

  “We thought we’d better check on you,” said the man. “We were surprised to see you out here. You’re very young to be out on your own.”

  “Don’t worry about us,” called Ben goodnaturedly. “My sister’s an expert sailor. She’s got all sorts of badges.”

  “We’re just having a little sail before heading back to San Miguel,” said Zoe. “I’m teaching my brother the basics, so we’re staying out of the bay to avoid the other boats. He’s taking a long time to learn.”

  The woman laughed as Ben pretended to get himself tangled up in the ropes.

  “Well, don’t go out any further,” said the man. “Stefano, our captain, told us that there’s a hurricane on its way. It’s not going to hit the coast, but it’ll pass quite close and you’ll feel the effects if you head into deeper water. You’d better follow us back to San Miguel. We’re heading in now, just to be on the safe side.”

  The children were silent for a moment, trying to think of what to say.

  “That’s really kind of you,” said Zoe at last. “But…we’re…”

  “She means our aunt’s not far away in her boat,” Ben put in quickly. “We’ll wait and sail in with her. Thanks anyway.”

  “Your aunt?” said the woman doubtfully. “We didn’t see any other small dinghies.”

  “Are you sure?” said Ben. He slapped his forehead. “Of course! We’ve been heading for San Miguel and she said San Pedro. We’d better turn round and get going.”

  Zoe didn’t need telling twice. Soon the dinghy was scooting over the waves. They were relieved to see the cruiser continue on its course for the bay.

  “We didn’t need that delay,” said Zoe. “But well done for getting us out of a difficult spot. Now they’ve gone we can search for Fingal again.”

  “But first I’m going to check where the hurricane is,” said Ben. He called up the satellite weather map on his BUG.

  Zoe peered over his shoulder. “They’re right, it is going to get close – it’s northeast of here now. Wow! We didn’t reckon on it coming that near! But we’ll avoid it if we don’t go too far from shore. Any sign of Fingal?”

  “The limpet’s picking up a faint dolphin sound,” answered Ben. “I’ll see if it matches his call.”

  He tapped at the keyboard and punched the air as the result came up. “It’s a match!” Ben stared at the expanse of blue water. “He’s out there somewhere. He must be just within range.”

  “That’s all very well.” Zoe frowned. “But how are we ever going to catch up with him?”

  “I don’t know,” said Ben thoughtfully. “Unless…” He began to tap at the BUG keyboard again.

  “Unless what?” asked Zoe.

  “I’ve had a brilliant idea!” exclaimed Ben. “Do you remember the Mundo Marino website Uncle Stephen showed us?”

  Zoe nodded.

  “I had another look at it on the plane,” Ben went on. “There was a load of info from when the park was well run, about how the dolphins were trained. And there was something we might be able to use to get Fingal to come to us.”

  “Really?” Zoe asked eagerly.

  “The website said that if ever the barriers of the park pools were broken in a storm and the dolphins escaped out to sea, their trainers could set off a sort of pinger. The dolphins were trained to come to the sound straight away. Perhaps we could do the same.”

  Zoe’s face fell. “You’ve forgotten something. We haven’t got a pinger.”

  “The BUG can imitate one!” declared Ben, his eyes shining excitedly. “Why didn’t I think of that before? I can set it to send out the call.”

  “How?” demanded Zoe. “We don’t even know what it sounded like.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Captain,” Ben told her. “There was a sound clip on the website. I remember thinking it sounded just like the timer on the cooker at home.”

  “We’ve certainly heard that often enough!” Zoe laughed. “But supposing the frequency is wrong. Or the interval between the pings. Then Fingal won’t recognise it.”

  “I’ll keep adjusting the sound till he does,” said Ben firmly. “I know it’s a long shot, Zoe, but it’s our only chance of finding him.”

  “You’re right,” said Zoe. “It’s worth a try! I’ll keep the dinghy steady.” She pulled out the first-aid kit. “After I’ve seen to your hand. We don’t want to attract any more predators.” She stuck a waterproof plaster over the cut.

  A look of concentration on his face, Ben fiddled with the controls until he got the BUG’s limpet to make a pinging sound. The children scanned the waves for the young dolphin.

  “I’ll try a different pitch,” said Ben, after a few moments.

  He tried setting after setting, but there was no sign of Fingal. Zoe adjusted the sails. A stiff breeze had got up and she had to work to keep the boat steady.

  “It was a good idea,” Zoe said. “But it’s not working.”

  Ben’s face was set. “We can’t give up,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

  He adjusted the sound again. “Let’s try that. Now it’s time for lunch. I’m starving. Pass me one of those pastelitos.”

  They ate their pastries and fruit and washed them down with water. There was a fresh wind in their faces now and small clouds were scudding across the sky.

  Zoe packed up the food and scanned the waves, desperately hoping to see some sign of Fingal.

  “He’s not going to come,” she said at last. “I’ll head us back just in case he’s returned to the bay.” She turned the dinghy towards San Miguel.

  “Look!” shouted Ben suddenly. “What’s that?”

  A grey shape was speeding towards them through the water, leaping and plunging through the waves. It dived under the dinghy, flipping up its tail and sending a spray of water all over Ben and Zoe.

  Now they could hear excited, highpitched squeaks and the sleek round nose of a young dolphin burst up from the surface. It had a scar running down from its right eye.

  “Brilliant, Ben,” cried Zoe. “Your pinger worked. It’s Fingal!”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Fingal swam round Ben and Zoe’s dinghy, leaping happily in and out of the waves.

  “He’s really pleased to see us!” gasped Zoe in delight.

  “He’s showing us his tricks,” said Ben, with a grin. “Look!”

  With his next leap, the young dolphin gave a twist in the air, before plunging back into the waves. When he surfaced, he gazed eagerly at the children. Zoe clapped and whooped. This seemed to please Fingal. His following jump took in two elegant spins.

  “I think that calls for a reward,” said Ben. “On the website it said a whistle from the trainer means the dolphin’s done well. They start with a whistle and food treats at the same time. Then they wean the dolphin off the food rewards so they res
pond just to the whistle.”

  Ben put his fingers to his mouth and blew a shrill whistle. Fingal immediately swam up to the boat and began to nod his head vigorously, making a loud chattering noise.

  “He’s only young.” Zoe laughed. “I reckon he still links the whistle with food. Take the tiller while I give him a treat. Here, Fingal.” She pulled a dolphin snack out of her backpack and lobbed it through the air. Fingal leapt up and took it cleanly.

  “He seems to like it,” said Zoe, as Fingal danced backwards across the waves on his tail. “He’s showing us what he can do so we give him some more. Clever boy!”

  “We’ll run out at this rate,” said Ben.

  “I’ll try the whistle without the treat.” He whistled again.

  This time Fingal swam close and laid his head on the side of the dinghy next to Zoe’s hand. She reached over and stroked his smooth, cold nose and the dome of his head.

  “You are a lovely boy,” she crooned, “and you’ll soon be safe at the sanctuary.”

  “Keep him there if you can, Zoe?” said Ben, taking out his BUG and scrolling through the menu. “This is a great time to tag him with a tracking dart. Then we won’t lose him again.”

  Ben aimed the BUG at Fingal. But at that moment a gust of wind caught him off guard and the dart embedded itself into the wooden side of the dinghy.

  “Great!” Zoe laughed. “Now we’ll be able to track our boat! Very useful.”

  Ben stuck out his tongue at her and aimed again.

  This time the tiny dart flew home – straight into Fingal’s back. The young dolphin didn’t seem to notice at all.

  He rolled playfully in the sea, and as Zoe bent over the side to stroke him again, he blasted her with water from his blowhole. He tossed his head back and chirped as if he was chuckling.

  “That must be one of his tricks!” Ben laughed, as Zoe wiped her face.

  “He likes all the attention,” she said in delight. “We’re getting his trust. Next task – take him somewhere that’s safe and quiet and contact Uncle Stephen.”