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“MR WELLARD!!” coaxes Captain Sawyer. “If you want to be the Easter bunny then you’ll need to wear the Easter bunny ears.” Sawyer places the bunny ears on Wellard’s head. “And here is your basket of chocolate Easter Eggs. Dr Clive and I haven’t touched those.” Dr Clive and Sawyer laugh evilly. “Couldn’t manage another egg,” says Clive sinisterly.

 

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But where to hide the eggs? Wellard knows he has to hide them quickly in strategic hiding places where no-one will find them before the Easter Egg hunt begins. Wellard thinks that maybe Dr Clive’s surgery is a good hiding place, perhaps under the pillow on the operating table. That way, the next man injured would get an Easter treat to speed his recovery. Wellard creaks the door open slowly…..and when fully open, he sees Dr Clive operating on a man with a splinter in his bottom. Dr Clive stares at Wellard. “Either come in or go out boy!” snaps Dr Clive. “Don’t just stand there like a startled Easter rabbit!”

 

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So Wellard looks for other hiding places. He decides to distribute them throughout the ship and on Easter day, to give ‘clues’ as to where the eggs are hidden. So he puts some in the galley, some in the hammocks, a couple stuffed down the cannons, a few tossed in empty wine glasses locked behind glass cabinets, several stuffed into the pockets of uniforms hanging in the wardrobe, and a large Easter egg hidden in the jolly boat. But what Wellard didn’t see, as he was carefully hiding each egg, was the eye of the curious observer watching him from a tiny hole in the wall.

 

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On Easter morning the men were desperate for a sugar fix, and armed with weapons, they crowded round a bunny-eared Wellard to hear his clues.   

 

Wellard felt intimated by their bulging eyes and the licking of their lips in anticipation, so instead of giving them cryptic clues, Wellard just said “some eggs are hidden inside weapons of mass destruction, and others where you sleep. And sweetness you will find inside your clothes, boats within boats, and devices from which you eat.”  The men dispersed immediately after that to find the eggs according to the clues Wellard gave them.

 

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Matthews and Styles went down into the sleeping cabins to search through every hammock, but no eggs could be found. Matthews became frantic, tearing bedsheets apart, but when the last hammock was found to be empty, Matthews screamed “What the-?! The eggs have been STOLEN!!! STYLES!!!”

 

Buckland went to the dining cabin and nervously began searching his pockets for the key to the glass cabinet. Dr Clive arrived two seconds later and said “If you’ll excuse me.” He pushed Buckland aside and smashed the glass with his elbow, sending a piece of glass to cut through Buckland’s forehead where he began bleeding profusely. “Ah! Ah!” cried Buckland, clutching his forehead with one hand, and desperately trying to stop Dr Clive from throwing out empty wine glasses with another.

 

Hobbs went to the hanging magazine first, then he searched inside every cannon. “Stand clear!!” he shouted to keep the other men at a safe distance. Sawyer went down to the wardrobes to check his uniform. “GET AWAY! GET AWAY! STAY WHERE YOU ARE!!” he threatened the men who were lurching behind him to share in their bit of sugar.

 

Bush wasn’t sure where to look, but he thought the hold was a good place to start. When he got there and found not a trace of chocolate in sight, he tried to think laterally and started gnawing on a wooden beam, on the presumption that it probably was a log of brown chocolate disguised as a wooden beam. Hornblower followed shortly. “Sir?” he enquired at the sight of Bush with an arm and a leg wrapped around the wooden beam, his neck craning on an angle to chew the splinters. Bush looked up at Hornblower and regained his dignified composure. “It isn’t chocolate!!!” cried Bush, as if he had made a terrible discovery. “I know” said Hornblower flatly, but before he could offer his theory on who had the chocolate, Bush stormed out of the room to look for the chocolate Easter eggs elsewhere.

 

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Wellard was pacing along the deck, still wearing his bunny ears, having no idea he was about to become a wanted man. He was abruptly stopped in his tracks by Mr Hobbs.

 

“I was wondering what happened to the Easter eggs” said Hobbs menacingly, “and I fancy you know EXACTLY what happened to them.” Wellard’s bunny ears drooped with dismay. “What do you mean?” said Wellard. “I’ve given you all the clues I have.” He tried to walk away but was stopped again by Mr Hobbs. “The eggs are not in the cannons.” Wellard took a breath to say something but was interrupted by Hobbs’ monologue of accusations “…nor in the wine cabinet, or in the jolly boat, or in the galley, or in any of our uniforms.” Hobbs ignored Wellard’s look of shocked dismay. “WHERE ARE THEY MR WELLARD?” Hobbs demanded.

 

Just then, they heard Sawyer raving at Mr Bush. “I’m disappointed in you, Mr Bush, Why did you not tell me where the eggs are?”

 

“I have no idea, Sir, I was about to ask Mr Wellard” said Bush with honesty.

 

“Ah! Mr Wellard!” said Sawyer. “Of course it is only to be expected the Easter bunny would steal all the eggs for himself. You couldn’t resist a bit of sweetness, could you boy?!”

 

“No - Not at all Sir!!” cried Wellard helplessly.

 

“Why attempt to deny it?” mocked Sawyer. He had the mind to turn Wellard upside down and shake him by the legs, when all of a sudden, the faintest sound of a crack caught everyone’s attention.

 

“Sshhhhhhhhh!” ordered Hornblower. Everyone listened intently to the sound again. “You hear that?!” he asked.

 

“It sounds like someone cracking a chocolate Easter egg!” said Matthews.

 

Hornblower took decisive action. “Follow me” he said, and the entire party crouched behind him and followed him quietly below decks. “You three go this way” whispered Hornblower, “the rest of you men come with me.” As Hornblower’s party advanced toward the stern of the ship, the sound of cracking chocolate eggs got progressively louder and the scent of sweetness got stronger.

 

Then a clue. A trail of dark brown chocolate bits scattered in a broken powered line. Bush knelt down and dipped his finger into the debris to taste them. “It’s definitely chocolate, Mr Hornblower” he reported. They kept following the line until eventually it led to the door of the ship’s lavatory. Hornblower opened the door slowly…..and found a familiar (though chocolate smeared) face lying on his back, gorging himself with the entire ship’s supply of chocolate - or what was left of it.

 

“You mean to say you ate all this chocolate by yourself?” wailed Lt Buckland. “Where’s the rest of it?”

 

“This is the rest, Sir” came the wavered reply. “I was going to save you some but those honey nougats are just irresistible.”

 

Hornblower gritted his teeth. There was something about the way Archie pronounced ‘honey noo-gits’ that irritated him to the core. But that would warrant its own punishment.

 

“Horatio?” quizzed Archie as the men advanced towards him with outstretched hands, smacking their lips with wanton cannibalistic hunger.  

 

“Horatio?” said Archie again, terror creeping into his voice. “Horatio?!….don’t let them touch me!!…HORATIO!!……..HORATIOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”