The Aldens made their way slowly past the quaint shops that lined the cobblestone streets of Ragged Cove. They headed to a big white captain’s house with a huge black ship’s anchor planted in front.
“Looks like this is it,” Henry said when he saw the sign for the Sailors’ Museum. “Not exactly busy.”
“Not exactly open, either,” Jessie said.
She stepped up to the door and rapped on the brass door knocker. While the children waited for someone to open up, Benny peeked in the window by the door.
“There’s somebody inside. A lady with gray hair, I think. She’s just standing there,” Benny told Jessie. “Knock again.”
Jessie did. She rapped nearly a dozen times before the door opened just a crack.
“No children allowed without an adult,” an old voice said from the inside.
This didn’t stop Jessie Alden. “But . . . the sign here says the adult can be fourteen or over. Our brother Henry is fourteen.”
Benny scooted by Jessie and looked up at the woman. “We know about your great-grandfather and his boat, the Flying Cloud. And we saw your great-grandmother’s gravestone. And Jessie read us a story about your family.”
A tiny smile passed over the woman’s face.
Benny took a deep breath. “We like whales and boats, and Violet knows how to paint pictures of the ocean. And Henry can carve anything, even a whale tooth. If we ever find one.”
The door opened a few more inches. “Well, I don’t know. Most children come in here and go out disappointed. I have nothing here but old things, not even a gift shop.”
“We make our own gifts,” Violet said proudly. “But maybe we can get some ideas from your museum.”
The woman liked Violet’s idea very much. She waved the children inside.
Henry spoke first. “We’re the Aldens, Miss Coffin. We’re staying at the Black Dog Inn with our grandfather. The Peases told us about you. This is Jessie and Violet and Benny, and I’m Henry.”
The woman seemed curious and turned to Jessie. “I see. Tell me how you happened to be reading my book, young lady.”
“Well, first I read a story called ‘Watery Grave: The Wreck of the Flying Cloud.’ ”
The woman stiffened and looked angry. “That! I thought you meant the true history I wrote. That other story is just a lot of lies and gossip!”
Jessie wasn’t quite sure what to say next. She didn’t want to upset Miss Coffin. “Oh, but then Mrs. Pease gave me your book, and I read some of it last night. It’s so sad.”
Miss Coffin got a faraway look. “Yes, it is a sad story. So many died, so close to home. But there’s something worse than that.”
“What could be worse?” Violet asked.
“Humph,” the woman began. “What’s worse is what caused the tragedy of the Flying Cloud. There was an attempted . . . well, never mind.”
“Mutiny?” Benny asked, proud to show off his new word.
“Yes, but it was just that crazy Eli Hull,” Miss Coffin said. “Why, my great-grandfather was one of the most beloved sea captains in these parts. He treated his crew like his own family. Anybody who knows anything knows that! His crew would never have turned against him.”
“Of course not,” Violet said softly. She was reading the sign on a glass cabinet filled with carvings. “Anybody can see that Captain Coffin’s crew loved him. Look at all this scrimshaw his sailors carved for him. Were all these pieces in your family, Miss Coffin?”
Violet’s question perked up Miss Coffin right away. “Why yes—yes, they were. You see the crew made these carvings for my great-grandfather to give to his wife and children. Aren’t they the prettiest things? Here, let me unlock the cabinet so you can see how clever these carvings really are.”
Miss Coffin fished into her pocket and pulled out the key to the cabinet. “Which piece would you like to look at first?” she asked Violet.
Violet pointed to a whale tooth about six inches tall. On it was a parrot carving that was colored in with blue ink. “That one.”
“That’s my favorite, too,” Miss Coffin said. “It’s a picture of Gabby, the pet parrot my great-grandfather rescued on a voyage to South America. Its wing was broken, and he nursed the bird back to health. Gabby traveled on many of my great-grandfather’s voyages.”
Violet and Benny looked upset, remembering what had happened to his last voyage.
“There, there,” Miss Coffin said, “believe it or not, we think somebody freed Gabby from his cage right before the Flying Cloud went up in flames. Gabby flew right back to my great-grandparents’ house. And, believe it or not, I remember Gabby myself. He lived a long, long time after my great-grandparents died. We think Gabby was nearly sixty years old when he died of old age.”
Benny was amazed. “Sixty! That’s almost as old as our grandfather.”
“Did Gabby talk?” Jessie asked.
“Did he talk? Why he never stopped talking!” Miss Coffin answered proudly. “He said: ‘Cap Coff, Cap Coff’ over and over every day until he died. He meant Captain Coffin, of course, my great-grandfather. Anyway, one of my great-grandfather’s crew carved this piece of scrimshaw in happier days, when the Flying Cloud was the most successful whaling ship in these parts.”
“Did the parrot know how to say anything else?” Benny asked. He was still amazed that parrots lived such a long time.
“‘Hardtack, hardtack’ was something else he was always shrieking. Do you children know what hardtack is?”
Jessie smiled. “I do. It’s dried, hard-baked bread that sailors took on long voyages. Dried bread kept better and didn’t get full of mold.”
“Good for you, young lady,” Miss Coffin said. “The crew would put pieces of hardtack in soup or tea. Gabby just loved hardtack.”
Benny said, “I bet Bennycakes are better. That’s what Miss Pease calls johnnycakes, because I eat so many!”
This seemed to please Miss Coffin very much. “Those are my favorites, too.”
The children walked around the small museum and admired the ships’ models, paintings, and the many gadgets from whaling ships. They stopped before a display case of old photographs.
Miss Coffin pointed to a picture of a little girl standing with some older people. Off to the side was a cage with a parrot.
“That’s me with my grandparents,” Miss Coffin said. “And there’s Gabby himself. You know, I do have something you children would like.”
Miss Coffin went to a bookcase. She pulled out a children’s book called Gabby, the Parrot Who Couldn’t Stop Talking.
“Benny, Violet, take this as a present. It’s out of print now. We used to sell it in the museum,” Miss Coffin said. “I wrote it many years ago when children wanted to know about the great days of the Flying Cloud.”
Benny and Violet looked through the little book. They stopped at a page near the end that listed all the words Gabby knew how to say. “What did ‘capsick, capsick’ mean?”
Miss Coffin shook her head. “My family never figured that one out. Drove us crazy with that word. My great-grandfather was never sick a day in his life, certainly not seasick.”
“I hope I’m like Captain Coffin,” Benny said, “and that I don’t get seasick when we go out whale watching.”
Miss Coffin’s blue eyes darkened. “Whale watching? When are you going to do that?”
Benny didn’t like the way Miss Coffin was looking at him now. Something about whale watching seemed to upset the old woman.
“We . . . we don’t know,” Jessie said before Benny said anything else. “We’re hoping Captain Bob will take us out on the Jonah in the next few days. We are interested in whales and how they live and how to save them.”
“Humph,” Miss Coffin said. “Well, you don’t need to go on that man’s boat to find out about whales. Everything you could ever want to know about them is in this library.” She stopped. “And it’s a much safer way to learn than getting on a boat with that . . . that careless captain. Captain indeed!”
“But we want to see whales swimming,” Benny said before he could catch himself, “not just read about them.”
Miss Coffin stood up and walked to the front door. “Then I can’t be of any further help to you. Now I’ll have to ask you to leave. I’ve a busload of tourists—adults—coming this afternoon, and I need to get the museum ready. I think I’ll need that book back, Miss. It turns out I don’t have enough copies after all.”
Violet handed back the little book about Gabby. “Here. I guess we’ll go now,” she said to Miss Coffin. “Thank you very much for the tour. Can we come back again to look at the whale books you mentioned?”
Miss Coffin wouldn’t look at Violet or the other Aldens. “I’ll be too busy. There are several tours I have to organize this week. I can’t say for sure what the museum hours will be for the next few days.”
With that, Miss Coffin led the children to the front door and let them out.
“Do you think Miss Coffin is worried that whale watching trips harm the whales?” Jessie asked Henry. “She got so upset when we said we wanted to go on one of Captain Bob’s trips.”
Henry was just as puzzled as the other children. “The boat rides don’t get close enough to disturb the whales.”
Benny was the most upset of all. “Is . . . is the Jonah safe, Henry?” he asked.
“I’m sure it is,” Henry said. “Mr. Pease told Grandfather that Captain Bob was in the Coast Guard and knows everything there is to know about boats. And whales, too. Miss Coffin just doesn’t like Captain Bob because he’s related to Eli Hull.”
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