Captain Firebeard's School for Pirates: Pirate School Book 1 Read online

  First published in the UK in 2016 by Scholastic Children’s Books An imprint of Scholastic Ltd Euston House, 24 Eversholt Street London, NW1 1DB, UK Registered office: Westfield Road, Southam, Warwickshire, CV47 0RA SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  Text copyright © Chae Strathie, 2016 Illustration copyright © Anna Chernyshova, 2016

  The rights of Chae Strathie and Anna Chernyshova to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work have been asserted by them.

  ISBN 978 1407 16339 0

  eISBN 978 1407 17020 6

  A CIP catalogue record for this work is available from the British Library.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Scholastic Limited.

  Produced in UK by CPI

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  With love to Cap’n Pete and Cap’n Catriona

  – may your voyage through life together be a long and happy one, me hearties!

  CHAPTER 1

  said Tommy.

  But no matter how hard he tried, he just could not squeeze a beard out.

  All around him fierce-looking men with hairy forests on their faces glared down from pictures hung on his bedroom walls.

  There was Captain Bluebeard… Captain Squarebeard… Captain Birdbeard… Captain Weirdbeard… Captain Spikebeard… And Captain Wildbeard.

  They were Tommy’s favourite pirates.

  But his favourite favourite pirate was Captain Firebeard, headmaster of Captain Firebeard’s School for Pirates – and today was Tommy’s first day in class.

  If only he could squeeze out a magnificent beard before school started at nine o’clock he was sure he’d impress Captain Firebeard and get a whole bunch of pirate points right away.

  He checked the mirror.

  There wasn’t even one measly whisker on his chin.

  Not. A. Sausage. (Although he’d have been quite surprised if he’d managed to squeeze a sausage out of his chin.)

  “Hurry up, dear!” called his mum from downstairs. “You’ll be late if we don’t leave now.”

  Tommy straightened his red spotty neckerchief and made sure his white- and-black-striped school tunic was

  shipshape and correct. Then he had a quick look in his school bag to make sure he had everything he needed.

  Captain Firebeard’s Introduction To Pirating: check.

  Grandpa Jack’s compass: check.

  Swimming trunks and goggles in case he had to walk the plank: check.

  A Jolly Roger pencil case: check.

  Two pieces of eight for the tuck shop: check.

  He buckled the bag and dashed out

  the door … then dashed straight back in again.

  He’d almost forgotten the most important thing – his letter of invitation to join Captain Firebeard’s Pirate School.

  read a warning written in red at the bottom of the letter.

  Mum and Dad were waiting at the door.

  “Come on, lad,” said Dad. “Your

  timbers will be well and truly shivered if you’re late on your first day.”

  “You know what they say about Captain Firebeard, don’t you?” said Mum.

  “Fiery of beard, fiery of temper,” gulped Tommy. “Thanks for reminding me, Mum.”

  They lived within a seagull’s squawk of the docks where the school was,

  so it would only take five minutes to walk there. Tommy glanced at the clock tower that rose above the higgledy-piggledy roofs. Six minutes to nine. They’d have to be quick.

  As they hurried towards the harbour Tommy’s tummy was rising and falling like a rowing boat in a hurricane. He’d never been so nervous in his life.

  They rounded the final corner just as the clock struck nine. There in front of them was the Rusty Barnacle – or Captain Firebeard’s School For Pirates, as it was also known.

  The ship is certainly well named, thought Tommy. There was plenty of rust, and even more barnacles.

  The hull was covered in peeling red paint, and three masts rose from the deck. What looked like a tree house was perched precariously high on top of the main mast. It was also a bit, well, bulgy. An unusual shape compared to the normal ships next to it.

  Odd bits and bobs had been added to it here and there – extra rooms with wonky windows that jutted out from the sides of the ship at weird angles, and an enormous home-made

  telescope that looked like it had been made from a variety of glass jars, pipes, dustbins and a battered tuba.

  The last bong of the clock rang out across the harbour.

  “Phew,” said Tommy. “Just made it.”

  They hurried over to the gangplank.

  “Now, remember to wash behind your ears,” fussed Mum.

  “Yes, Mum,” said Tommy.

  “And don’t play with any cannons,” said Dad.

  “No, Dad,” said Tommy.

  “Be good,” said Mum, sniffling into a yellow hanky.

  “Be

  said Dad.

  Tommy stopped at the gangplank.

  “Bye, Mum. Bye, Dad,” he said. “I’ll see you at the end of term.”

  They hugged each other and Tommy turned and joined the other children boarding the Rusty Barnacle. He noticed worried-looking faces all around him. One small lad in particular looked like he was about to be seasick – and he wasn’t even on the ship yet!

  A pointy-faced boy had used his sharp elbows to push right to the front of the line. His pirate uniform looked expensive and very elaborate. Tommy didn’t much like the look of him.

  Someone nudged Tommy’s arm.

  “Hurry up, landlubber,” said a girl’s

  voice. “Let’s get on with the adventure!”

  Tommy turned to see a redheaded girl fiddling with her ponytail. Her red spotty headscarf matched her neckerchief. She had a fearless sparkle in her eyes. She would either be a lot of fun … or a lot of trouble.

  He smiled nervously and trotted on up the gangplank.

  Even though the boat was a rickety old bucket, Tommy was proud to be aboard. Only a handful of young buccaneers got chosen each year to be taken on board the best pirate school on the Seven Seas – and now he was one of them.

  He joined the crowd of new pupils who were standing around, wondering what to do next when …

  A door opened in the wall of the quarterdeck in front of them.

  Everyone stared.

  A gleaming metal hook appeared and pushed the door open further.

  came a throaty voice from the darkness. “Welcome aboard, lads and lasses. Captain Firebeard’s School For Pirates now be in session.”

  CHAPTER 2

  The gleaming hook turned out to be connected to an arm, which was connected to a pirate.

  “My name be Sea Dog Steve,” the pirate growled. “And I be Captain Firebeard’s right-hand man.”

  More like right-hook man, thought Tommy.

>   “Now, you landlubbing whelks,” continued the pirate. “Without further ado, let me introduce your teachers. First, we ’ave One-Eyed Norm – the crackest of crack shots and a dab hand with a cutlass. He can hit a gold doubloon from a mile away and slice a coconut in two with his good eye shut!”

  said One-Eyed Norm, who had a large green patch over his right eye.

  replied

  Sea Dog Steve.

  piped up a small voice

  from the crowd of pupils.

  “Oi!” said Sea Dog Steve. “No

  -ing’ until you’ve been

  taught how to

  properly.”

  “Sorry, sir,” said the small voice.

  “Next we have Maggie Magpie,” continued Sea Dog Steve. “She’s got an eye for treasure and a nose for adventure. Best keep a close watch on

  yer pieces of eight when she’s around.”

  yelled Maggie

  Magpie as she swung down on a rope, did a somersault and landed next to Sea Dog Steve.

  “Hallo, me hearties,” she laughed.

  Sea Dog Steve smiled to reveal a shiny gold tooth gleaming in his mouth. His chin was so stubbly he could have used it to sand the deck smooth and his eyes were as green as the leaves on a palm tree.

  Next he gestured towards a hatch in the deck. “Every ship needs a great ship’s cook,” he said. “Unfortunately, we be stuck with Gumms.”

  “Well, sizzle my sausages, we be awash with shrimplets!” wheezed Gumms, opening the hatch and letting out a pong that smelled like he’d been boiling fish heads and smelly socks in cabbage water.

  “What’s for lunch, Gumms?” shouted Sea Dog Steve.

  “Fish heads and smelly socks in cabbage water,” chortled Gumms.

  “Can’t wait,” winced Sea Dog Steve. “And finally,” he added dramatically, “a legend what don’t need no introduction.”

  He pointed upwards to the deck above, and there, looking down at everyone from beside the ship’s wheel, was Captain Firebeard himself!

  Tommy felt a thrill run through him. His hero was right in front of him,

  complete with crimson jacket, shiny gold cutlass, wooden leg and crutch … and a mighty beard the colour of flame.

  “Welcome to my school,” he bellowed. “You all be pirate pupils now, and we’re going to turn you into the best buccaneers on the high seas! So if there be any snivelling sea cucumbers or lolloping limpet lickers here, I suggest you jump ashore quick.”

  Then he drew his curved cutlass and thwacked a big brass bell with it.

  That seemed to be the signal to set sail, and with a creak of wood and a ripple of sails the Rusty Barnacle slowly moved away from the harbour wall and began its journey out to sea.

  There was a clamour of cheers and tears from the port as the crowd of mums and dads and grannies and granddads hooted their goodbyes.

  “Show the pupils to their quarters – then let the classes begin!

  Captain Firebeard barked, then he turned and stomp-clomped out of sight.

  “Follow me, young spratlings,” said Sea Dog Steve.

  He led the class through a hatch in the deck and down some wooden stairs. They walked through the cannon deck, where a pair of odd-

  looking pirates – one tall and thin and one short and round – were polishing cannonballs.

  Next they passed a small sailor with hairy feet testing a plank by walking off it into a bathtub.

  The classroom was down a crooked corridor. There was a sign on the door that read:

  Then they came to the canteen. The smell from Gumms’s cooking was strong enough to strip the varnish off a wooden leg.

  “I think I’m going to faint,” gasped the small lad who’d looked very seasick earlier.

  “Best give that little ’un a helping hand,” said Sea Dog Steve to Tommy.

  Tommy grabbed the boy’s arm to hold him up. The girl who’d

  nudged him on the gangplank took his other arm.

  “I’m Jo,” she said. “Definitely Josephine, no matter what anyone says. Right?”

  “Err, right,” said Tommy. “I’m Tommy. Definitely not Josephine either.”

  The small boy groaned as the ship rolled from side to side on a wave. “And I’m … probably going to be sick. Oh, and my name’s Milton.”

  Sea Dog Steve pointed towards another staircase.

  “Your quarters be down there,” he said. “Choose a hammock and get your belongings squared away, then be in the classroom in ten minutes.”

  Before anyone got a chance to move, the spiky boy with the expensive outfit barged through, pushing people out of the way and almost knocking Milton to the floor.

  “That’s Spencer Splinter,” scowled

  Jo. “He thinks he’s the best thing since sliced fishcakes just because Captain Blackbeard was his granddad. Watch out for him – he’s as prickly as a hedgehog wrapped in nettles, and as slippery as an eel in a barrel of butter.”

  By the time Tommy and Jo had helped Milton down the stairs there were only three hammocks left.

  “Looks like these are our quarters,” said Tommy, putting his belongings in a locker next to his hammock.

  “Aye aye to that, shipmates!” smiled Jo.

  “Yo-ho-ho,” said Milton weakly.

  It was time to start pirating!

  CHAPTER 3

  On the way to the classroom Milton made sure he held his nose when they went through the canteen.

  As usual, Spencer and his two friends – a massive boy who looked like a great white shark in a pirate outfit and a girl with the grumpiest face in the universe – elbowed their

  way to the front. Spencer gave Tommy a good dig in the ribs on the way past.

  Captain Firebeard and Sea Dog Steve were waiting for them.

  “Welcome to the classroom,” said Captain Firebeard. “This be your home for the rest of the term.”

  Tommy’s tummy did a funny little somersault followed by a roly-poly that had nothing to do with the rocking ship. He still couldn’t quite believe he was actually a pupil at the best pirate school there was – or that he was in the same room as the

  star of his bedroom-wall posters.

  The classroom was very old- fashioned. It had wooden desks and rickety old chairs. On each desk was a brass compass, a pot of ink and a big feathered quill to write with.

  There were maps and navigational charts pinned to the wooden walls alongside diagrams of cannons and guides to different types of treasure. At the front of the room was a blackboard and a large desk for the

  teacher. Beside that was a row of wooden perches, each one with a brightly coloured parrot sitting on it.

  An excited buzz went round the classmates as they tried to guess which one of the birds would be assigned to each of them.

  “Now,” continued Captain Firebeard, “before we begin any lessons, we need to furnish you all with lovely new pirate names. It wouldn’t be proper to be callin’ yourself Nigel or Tabitha when you could be named something like Crow’s Nest Nige or Tabby the Terrible.”

  He nodded to Sea Dog Steve, who picked up a pile of papers from the teacher’s desk.

  “We’ve been checking your school application forms,” said Sea Dog Steve, “and we’ve come up with some howlin’ good pirate names for you all.”

  He examined the first piece of paper.

  “You there – Jo, lass,” he said. “You’re a proper wild-heart, so your new name be Jo the Fearless.”

  Jo punched the air. “Yes! Love it!” she yelped.

  “And you,” he said pointing to Milton. “It was going to be Brains,

  bein’ as you’re proper clever, but after this morning’s wibbly-wobbly hoo-hah, it be Jellylegs from now on.”

  Milton sighed.

  “The pointy lad,” he went on, nodding at Spencer. “You be Spiky Spencer, as you looks as sharp as a bag o’ needles and pins!”

  Captain Firebeard guffawed loudly at this. Spencer did not.

  “Do you know
who my grandfather was?” snapped Spencer. “He was Blackbeard himself!”

  Captain Firebeard’s bright red beard bristled.

  “That he may have been, laddie,” he

  said sternly. “But this ’ere be Captain

  school, not Captain Blackbeard’s school. Spiky Spencer it is.”

  Spencer looked annoyed, but stayed silent as his two cronies were named Muttonhead Max and Greta the Grouch.

  When all the names were given out except one, it was finally Tommy’s turn.

  Sea Dog Steve lifted the piece of paper.

  “Ah, yes,” he smiled. “Top in the pirateology entry test. Seems we ’ave a bit of a star in the making, Captain.”

  “We’ll see about that,” said Captain Firebeard, stroking his crimson bristles. “Let’s call you Hotshot Tom

  – see if you can live up to yer new name, eh?”

  Tommy felt his cheeks go the same colour as Captain Firebeard’s whiskers.

  “Y-yes, sir,” he stammered.

  “Aye aye, sir, ye mean,” said Captain Firebeard.