//------------------------------//
// Salty Gets it Wrong 
// Story: Thomas and Friends: Tales from the Mainland Volume 1 
// by The Blue EM2 
//------------------------------//

As was normal on a morning, Falmouth Docks rang to the sound of industry. Ships were loaded with cargo for places far away, and fresh goods being taken to other places further inland was placed on the dockside, ready to be loaded onto wagons for goods trains to places far away.

Porter had been at work so far, moving most of the wagons, when Salty rattled onto the dockside. "Ahoy, Porter!" he called. "Having fun?"

"It's been quite hard going, to be honest," Porter admitted. "Seriously, where have you been?"

"Got a bit of a late start," Salty replied. "Sunny got out of the wrong side of bed... figuratively and literally, if you know what I mean."

"I thought her bed was pushed up against the wall," Izzy said.

"Not anymore it isn't, it seems," Porter laughed.

Sunny rolled down Salty's window. "Just stop," she said, a frown on her face. "I'm not in the mood. So stow it."

Izzy frowned too. "Yikes. She's in a foul mood."

"You can say that again," Porter replied.

"She's in a-"

"Not literally."

Salty rattled to work. "What a lovely morning. It reminds me of the day that the Giant Squid of Southampton arrived. Huge, he was. With tentacles longer than skyscrapers and eyes bigger than entire houses!"

He stopped when he noticed Sunny still seemed to be fuming. "You may want to remove that frown. If old Cap'n Stormio blows through, your face may get stuck!"

"You do realise that Captain Stormio is a personification of stormy weather rather than a literal person, don't you Salty?" Sunny replied. "Besides, it's not scientifically possible for wind to jam a person's facial muscles."

"Neither is it possible for a girl to sprout translucent wings and glow," Porter added, "and yet you seem to do it!"

This interjection didn't help, unfortunately. Sunny's mood only seemed to worsen at that.

Later, a member of dockside staff arrived with some news. "We're in a bit of a pickle here," he admitted. "We've got a pickup goods to take from here to Truro, but Charles has broken down and Sophie is elsewhere. We'll need one of you to handle this."

"I'll do it!" Salty said. "A nice run up the coast will be perfect to stretch my sea wheels. Besides, I have a new shanty I want to try with the trucks."

"Oh joy," Sunny said to herself. "Trucks."





The trucks were being awkward, as usual. "Oh look!" one shouted. "A big red box on wheels is here to pull us! What a lark!"

Sunny glared at the truck as she coupled Salty up. "Shut up," she growled. "I'm not in the mood for you lot acting like idiots."

The truck looked shocked. "What's gotten into her?"

"Forget Sunny, maybe we should call her stormy!" a van laughed.

Sunny ignored them as she got into the cab and shifted the throttle forward- much more aggressively than she normally did.

"Careful!" Salty called. "We're limited to fifteen miles an hour down here!"

There was no reply from the cab.

"Oh dear," Salty sighed. "Whatever has gotten her in such a mood?"

Shunting at Penmere went smoothly, with the required stock being left behind and new trucks added. Before long, the train set off once again for Truro, the trucks rattling along in front of Salty (as he was running backward).

Salty decided to try lightening the mood by singing a bit.

"You will have a fishy on a little dishy, 
You shall have a bloater when the boat comes in."

"You will have a fishy on a little dishy, 
You shall have a bloater when the boat comes in!" the trucks replied.

"That trick always keeps them in line," Salty smiled.

The approaches to Penrhyn from Penmere consist of two hills. The first sees a train going downhill, and the other sees the train going uphill. A clever driver can use the first hill to get up enough speed to clear the second one, and the second to slow down before entering the station.

Unfortunately, Sunny took it too fast and rocketed into the second hill going rather quickly. Truth be told, she wasn't concentrating and seemed preoccupied with something. And disaster was about to strike.

Several items of rolling stock that they needed to shunt and move had been placed in the platform for them. And the points had been set wrong. Salty slammed into them at about 20 miles an hour, derailing himself, the new wagons, and the ones he was pulling.

The crash jolted Sunny out of her lack of concentration, and her face shifted from one of annoyance to one of horror. "Trevithick preserve us."





After she had telephoned for a rescue train, she sat down and put her head in her hands. "This is all my fault. I'm so, so sorry."

"What's goin' on?" Salty asked. "You don't seem to be yourself today."

"It doesn't matter what I was mad about," Sunny replied. "It was something stupid. And now we're in a mess because I can't keep my emotions in check!"

"Sunny," Salty said, his face now an understanding smile. "We all have bad days, and we all get mad about silly little things. When I was younger and painted green, I once had a right old row with a fellow shunter at Portsmouth."

"What happened?" Sunny asked.

"We eventually made up. I must find out how he's getting on. I believe he's at Barrow Hill these days." Salty paused. "What's important is how we make up from our mistakes. And at the end of the day, we are all bound on the same journeys." He smiled as he indicated to the trucks. "How about that one about Cornwall to cheer our friend up?"

"Of course!" called the trucks. And they collectively began to sing.

"I’ve stood on Cape Cornwall in the sun’s evening glow,

On Chywoone Hill at Newlyn to watch the fishing fleets go.

Watched the sheave wheels at Geevor, as they spun around,

And heard the men singing as they go underground.

And no one will ever move me from this land!

Until Ruston calls me to sit at his hand!

For this is my Eden, and I’m not alone.

For this is my Cornwall and this is my home!"





At the end of the day, Sunny and Izzy sat in Sunny's kitchen as the sun began to set. "Thanks for rescuing us," Sunny said. "I really do appreciate it, given I was pretty rude to you and Porter.

"One and all, Sunny," Izzy replied. "That's the motto of Cornwall. We all get up on the wrong side of bed some days, and it's OK to not be happy and cheery all the time."

The oven beeped, and Sunny took a tray out of the oven. "Perfect! Fresh batch of scones on the go!" She placed the tray on the countertop and popped two on two different plates, and then moved the plates to the table. "Careful, they're hot!"

Izzy grinned. "Thanks for the cream tea, Sunny!"

"I thought it a fitting way to make up for how I acted earlier," Sunny admitted. "Cream and jam are on the table."

Izzy buttered her scone, and then put her knife in the cream. She glanced up to see Sunny looking at her. "Yes?"

"Other way round. Jam, then cream."

Izzy laughed. "Still getting used to that!"