The big ship forges through the blue currents, thick with green life. Tropical water foams easily before the bow and the steady damp wind fills the sails without effort and provides relief from the burning sun. What a strange ship this is! A four masted wooden galleon, she is crewed by fifty or sixty nimble sailors, running up the rigging, swarming over the spars and heaving on the ropes. And what strange sailors they are. Each one has a full growth of feathers on his head, large purple coloured eyes and a beak.
Now the “Sister of the Waves” is arriving at a new group of islands. Garlands of exotic orange flowers blow about her spars, and the sails are painted vivid green and red. Wave crests dance before her. In shows of bravery, some dare others to rise up and touch the wooden figurehead but despite much splashing and vigorous tossing of spray from choppy impatient onlookers, none of them can manage it. The ship slices the water like shiny steel rather than wood, such is her speed, but it has been a long journey and there may still be far to go.
Eager eyes scan the lands ahead. Two of the islands are rather closer together than any of the others, One is large and has what looks like the cone of an extinct volcano at its centre. The other is much smaller and flatter. A wide sandy channel separates them, and the captain doubts if it is deep enough for the “Sister of the Waves” to navigate safely. There is a fierce discussion between two of the tree guardians. One of them claims that this is the island of legend, where the stolen moon pearls are hidden. The other is scornful, and most of the rest of the guardians agree that it cannot be the place. It looks as though another enormous theological argument is about to start. Old scrolls are brought out to point to passages supporting one claim or another. Whistling voices grow into shrieks. The captain wonders wearily, and not for the first time, why he ever agreed to command this vessel.
In the end it is decided that they must sail through that sandy straight to settle the matter. Somehow the captain thought it would turn out like that. He gives the orders and they move through the shallow sea. Fortunately it is deep enough for them to pass safely and this is not the island they are looking for. There is no need to stop for provisions or fresh water. They last anchored only two days ago and there are so many islands in these parts that they are certain to be able to make land again within the week. So on they sail, that endless expedition, following the setting sun. On to find the hidden island. On to find the stolen moon pearls. In the blue rolling waters the “Sister of the Waves” carries the tree guardians and the captain and all his crew with the evening breeze all around the green world.
