was rowing thus for some time when I heard a tremendous groaning and thrashing about. I made my way towards the sound and presently found myself abreast Queezebag's dory.

"Queezebag!" I shouted, overjoyed. But he seemed not even to notice I was there.

He was standing erect in the vessel, ankle-deep in codfish, one foot on each rise to balance himself. In his hands there was a giant, black cod, with a yellow hump on his back. One glance told me it was Slippery Sam himself, and he was thrashing about violently. So engrossed was my friend in this struggle that he hardly heard me as I shouted for him to stop.

"Avast!" I finally shouted.

He turned, suddenly, as if being woken from a dream, and in so doing, dropped Slippery Sam into the abyss.

"You crazy Englishman!" He shouted at me, shaking his fist. "Look what you made me do!"

So engrossed was he in his task that he seemed totally unaware of the thick, dangerous fog that surrounded us. Then I saw that he was determining to jump into the sea after it.

"No!" I cried but to no avail. There was a splash, and he was gone. I stared hard into the dense fog trying to see where, beneath the surface, he could be. I saw nothing for several moments until suddenly, there was a thundering crash and I caught a brief glimpse of Queezebag, riding atop the massive cod, trying with all his might to hold fast. Then they were under again. They rose together, once more, and were again submerged. Finally, I saw Slippery Sam rise alone, briefly, as if to signal to me what he had done. Then he dove and all was quiet.

I sat in my dory, adrift for what seemed like hours, unable to fathom what had happened. Queezebag, my friend, was no more. A giant cod had drowned him.

Finally, the fog lifted, and I saw that it was almost nightfall. In the distance, I could make out the stark figure of our dear Peapod and, willing myself to be strong, I rowed towards her in earnest.

"Earl, Earl, is that you?" The voice of Pip, the deckhand, was a welcome sound. He tossed down a Jacob's ladder and I climbed aboard.

"Thank-you Pip, I said gratefully. Where is the Captain? I have some unfortunate news concerning Queezebag and Slippery Sam."

"No more unfortunate than what has happened here," said Pip, shaking his downcast head. "Slippery Sam was here. He tormented our Captain jumping here and there around the ship. One moment he was forward, the next moment he was aft, then starboard, then port. Aye, he is a cunning fish. Our Captain could take it no more. He dove in after her. They rose twice, in unison, the Captain riding her like a bucking horse, and then the devilish cod rose once more, alone, and was gone. All was quiet, after that, as none could believe -- nor scarcely can we now -- that our Captain Mayhem was drowned by a giant codfish." After this speech, he removed his cap and bowed his head. The action was repeated by all that were present and I did the same, too stunned to recount my tale.

We set sail for England the next day. It was fair sailing, as the wind was in our favor and we could harden up and make very good time. No one mentioned Slippery Sam, the Captain, or my dearly departed friend Queezebag, although more than one sailor gave a sideways glance to the golden coin, still bolted to the bollard and gleaming brilliantly in the mid-afternoon sun.

The Story of "Slippery Sam" was inspired by the real-life adventures of the Tall Ship, "Gazela."
For more information, see: www.gazela.org