My name is Drake

You know that male Ducks are called Drakes, don’t you? Well, we’re absolutely delighted to be able to bring to our readers the story of one of the most famous Drakes of all time:

“My name is Drake – Frank Drake and I come from a long line of Drakes. The first-born male was always called Frank. My story begins in 13th century Italy. I had just caught a cheap flight to Venice and as luck would have it, a local tour agent managed to get me a place on a road trip with a couple of adventurers Niccolo and Maffeo Polo. I always loved an adventure and, being a bit of a fitness buff, relished the idea of trekking to unknown lands. Niccolo’s son, Marco, and I became good friends and shared many adventures on the journey. He taught me how to improve my leg muscles by walking and I helped him learn how to swim. I had much more practice than he did as there were few bodies of water along the way. Our family has been famous for its well-developed leg muscles since that time.
“He got sick in the mountains of what is now Afghanistan and I helped nurse him back to good health and he made sure that I survived the month-long traverse of the Gobi desert where we saw neither food nor water.
When we arrived at Xanadu, the summer palace of the Mongol leader Kublai Khan, we were welcomed and given freedom of the Empire. We actually represented the Khan on several diplomatic missions. While Marco made contacts at the human level, I made several close friends, notably with a clan of Mandarin Ducks who were famous for their Feng Shui cure for love. This was definitely something I thought I could adapt to Western culture over time. These ducks also taught me many useful swimming techniques that improved both my speed and stamina.
“One morning Marco told me that we had been invited to the winter palace for dinner. When I asked what was on the menu he replied somewhat hesitantly that the Khan was serving Peking Duck. Alarm bells sounded in my duck sized brain and I gave that meal a miss. In fact, I took that as my exit cue and departed with the next available flight that was heading south to some isolated islands in the middle of a huge pond. Legend had it that white gods in large canoes would be visiting there within the next 200 years. I wonder where they will take me?”
. . . . . to be continued.