1 Scurvy Sea Dogs

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1. SCURVY SEA DOGS "We be needin' a day at the beach!" said Mr. Jolley-Rogers. He wasn't entirely sure why he said it. He just did. He'd been planning to tar the deadeyes, but he suddenly had the strangest urge to play in the sand. "I was thinkin' the same thing," said Mrs. Jolley-Rogers, who, moments earlier, had told Nugget that it wasn't sunny enough for a day at the beach. "AWESOME!" said Nugget, who

was plucking maggots from an old lump of hardtack and making them into a living, wriggling necklace. It had been fun at first, but the maggots kept squirming free and falling down her dress. If they went to the beach, she could collect shells and seaweed and make a much less wriggly necklace. Nugget's big brother, Jim Lad, appeared from belowdecks. "Where we headin', Dad?"

"This be lookin' like a good spot," said Mr. Jolley-Rogers. He noticed his finger was already pointing to the map. "HMMM, Hag's Head. I'll plot a course. Who wants to take the helm?" "ARRR!" shouted Nugget as she hopped onto a barrel. She grabbed the wheel with one hand while scratching her bottom with the other. Squawk, the parrot, flapped around her feet, feasting on the maggots that were raining onto the deck.

Jim Lad scurried aloft with a telescope. His mom was already dropping the foresail. Dad flipped the lid of the ship's compass, tore open a bag of toffees, and hollered, "Northeast for Hag's Head!"

"LAND AHOY!" yelled Jim Lad from the crow's nest a few hours later. It was a bit blustery aloft and had started to drizzle, and Jim's fingers were going numb as he hurriedly furled the topsail. Perfect beach weather, he thought as he slid down a rope to join the rest of his family on deck. "I'll be stayin' put," said Grandpa, creaking back and forth on his rocking chair with a frown and a large bottle of grog in his good hand. Grandpa rarely left the ship. He claimed never to have set foot