Chapter 61

Gobsong

Chance of Mutiny: 11%

250 levels until fleet evolution.

Whew! What hard, hard work it was getting the chance of mutiny as far down as I could! And it wasn’t easy. Like Slime-tooth used to say, “If it's easy, it can’t be that easy.”

I confronted the goblins who had only reported half of their hammerhead catch.

“Why should we share everything we catch when we bring in the biggest fish and the most fish?” Click-tongue had said.

“You’re right,” I had said. “From now on I’ll keep track of who catches the biggest fish and the most fish.”

“I’m right? How can I be right when you're the Admiral, and I’m just a snot?”

“I will reward the sloop that catches the biggest fish and the most fish, that’s how!”

That certainly changed the tuna of things. Suddenly we had more fish available to eat, and fisher-goblins became more dedicated to their fishing lines.

On a canvas scroll, I kept track of more than caught fish; I kept track of leader goblins such as Remember-not. I showed her evidence that she was my right and left-hand goblin.

“See look,” I had said after inviting her into the deckhouse to show her the list of goblins and their achievements.

“That’s my name?” she had asked.

“That’s your name.”

“Whose names are underneath?”

“Those aren’t names. Those are all your accomplishments.”

“I did all those things?”

“Every one.”

“What about those things that don’t have check marks?”

“Those are to-dos. I want you to start training under a different Captain each week to start gaining some Captain-ing experience.”

Remember-not turned emotional after that.

While other goblins didn’t turn emotional, at least they were overcome with relief when I decided to maintain the speed of the galleon at only 2x its normal speed. The ketch had no problem catching up, and the goblins on the sloops didn’t have to work so hard to catch up. As a result, the chance of mutiny had decreased by 20 points. Who knew working goblins so hard could lead to mutiny so easily!

Almost as easily as keeping them hungry. Were they really so hungry?

“Starving,” they had all said.

Once a day without fail I had my fleet lower sails and set sea anchor. Giant onions and colossal garlic were rolled onto each sloop. I promoted goblins into cooks and made sure each sloop had a cook. The biggest catch of the day was celebrated and all catches were equally distributed.

Goblins ate with their familiar groups. It was clear which goblins had followings. I made a list to keep an eye on them and how many followers they had. If any goblin’s following got too big…

At the end of the week, the chance of mutiny had drastically reduced. It was exhausting!

On one clear and easy day, I ordered my crew to sail at half-sail.

“All on deck, please thank you!” I called. “Let’s take turns.”

“Food time already?” said Big-belly.

“Happy-dimple, you first. Grab the helm.”

Happy-dimple looked around before pointing to himself. “Me?”

“Grab the spokes, please thank you.”

He grabbed the spokes and put dimples in his cheeks with a giddy smile. “Wow, Admiral! Is this a promotion?”

“This is practice. I’m going to build more sloops so I'll need to keep in mind the best potential Captains.” Every goblin went stiff after that. Their eyes got big, maybe their ears too. “Right now we’re going to follow Slime-tooth’s rules—your turn Knuckle-hair.”

“Aye aye, Admiral!”

“As Slime-tooth used to say, ‘Steer forward, and you’ll get from here to there.” Goblins oohed and ahhed. Heads bounced in deep, understanding nods. “Your turn Pickle-tongue.”

“Aye aye, Admiral!”

That wasn’t the only one of Slime-tooth’s sayings that I shared on such a smooth and stormless day. When it was time for the daily food exchange and most-biggest catch competition, I invited every single goblin aboard the galleon. It was so packed with happily munching goblins that I had to share: “If you can tell it's your own limbs, there aren’t enough goblins around you!”

Everyone took an inventory of their limbs. Some came to find out that they'd been eating out of each other’s hands instead of their own. Those limbs were quickly untangled. Even so, there was still a lot of room for lots and lots more snots aboard.

And we were ready for more. Remember-not had finally caught up outfitting each goblin with hammered flower dresses which had tons of pockets. She’d been asking for more goblins, but there were none! Out of boredom, she’d been sewing together backpacks. She’d been wanting to make something that could hold the most pockets. I wanted Pinky-chew to be the first to try one on.

Pinky-chew slipped her arms through the straps. “Now this is nice, Admiral!”

“Open it up, please thank you.”

She dropped the backpack. She wrestled with the straps like a cat backpedaling a ball of twine. At last she flipped the flap back. There were a hundred folds and a hundred pockets.

“I lost a piece of garlic in there,” said Remember-not. “If you find it…you can just have it.”

“So many pockets!” said Pinky-chew.

I clapped and performed a pirouette. “Like Slime-tooth used to say, ‘A pocket in a pocket is like a secret’!”

I was soon beginning to hand out backpacks for promotions. The first lot went to the next sloop that caught the biggest fish. Suddenly, goblins had safer places to put all their trinkets and coin. I also decided to promote Gabby with her own backpack.

“I am promoting you to my personal Sayer,” I said.

“I am honored, Admiral,” said Gabby between tears.

“Here are your boots.”

“I’ll do the best that I can!”

“As my personal Sayer, I’ll need you to say ‘please thank you’ after everything I say.”

“I’ll be the best Sayer ever!” Gabby sniffed.

“All right everyone! Full sail ahead!”

“Please thank you!” said Gabby.

And morale improved! An improved morale helped in times of uncertainty. It was always hard to predict the weather; but one thing was for sure, clear days didn’t last forever.

On one chilly morning there was a thick fog in our way. It was miles and miles long, and there was nothing to do but sail straight through. Water beaded on the lines and rigging. Water dribbled down the masts. The soft air wet my eyelashes. I could hear the sea slam against the hill but I couldn’t see it. It felt like we were frozen still, but the masts were full of air, and I felt the cold damp wind.

The fleet sailed tethered in line to the galleon so that no ship turned lost. I put Remember-not at the helm. After pouring myself a tankard of spit beer, I went on a stroll. There were so many sleeping goblins! Green legs had to be stepped over. Arms had to be moved aside. I had to make sure my boots didn’t step on ears or noses or fingers or stomachs.

Bouncing-leg was asleep beneath drooping white trumpet flowers that were as large as barrels. Little-one was asleep in a heap of canvas within a barrel. Some creature tugged at the fishing line, but Bush-brows was asleep at the rod. Easy-going was sprawled out in a large coil of rope near the prow. Grumpy-mumble was sitting against the taffrails with shut eyes. Dew dripped off his chin. Slime-tooth was right when he said, “A cloud is a good place to sleep for a quick nap.”

For almost a week, while sailing straight west, every goblin got to breathe easier. The chance of mutiny fell to 8%, and spirits were high when we broke through the fog and sailed under a bright full moon the color of cheese.

Nearly all had been sleeping when we began to hear a lovely soft hum. The hum eerily grew into squeaks. Soon everyone was up and looking over taffrails for the source.

The sea was pleasant and still. No big splashes slapped my ships. No great fin sliced the water. Yet the squeaks turned to shrieks. The sound moved like a song with ups and downs, and highs and lows, and lefts and rights, and quiets and louds.

“Pretty,” said Half-ear.

“Lovely,” said Broke-toe.

“Sublime,” said Blow-nose.

They were all spot on. The sound was so, so lovely—like a dolphin singing and laughing. They were similar to sounds that came from Hawkin’s woods: cackling coyotes or foxes; whining, warring cats…Something like that!

“Admiral,” Stretch-arms said and lobbed an arm over his head to wave me over.

I clomped on over to the stern. I climbed the steps over the deckhouse and looked overboard. I gasped!

Down in the jolly boat, Soft-song was laid back with his arms behind his head belting the most beautiful song I had ever heard. Then Stretch-arms began to wail with his own long song. Bright-eyes shrieked into the night. Bell-throat clanged. Remember-not wailed like a siren. Stuffy-nose and Fat-tongue mimicked foghorns. Soon the song spread to the ketch and to the sloops.

Spontaneous gobsong! The rare camaraderie! Who would have thought? Gloom-glower never experienced anything like that before. I was sure even Gone-hand never experienced gobsong. My ears pricked this way and that. I performed a pirouette, and I howled.

By midnight, the chance of mutiny was 0%.