“Actually, I don’t see much point in going back down,” Uncle Charlie said. “We’ve got ten baskets of oysters. We might as well shuck them and see if we find any pearls. If we don’t, then we’ll say good-by to this spot and try another tomorrow.”
“Now I like that idea,” Biff said and stretched out on the narrow seat that ran around the side of the dory.
His uncle upped anchor, and they headed back to their island camp.
They didn’t go into Trinité that day, since they still had the reserve tank of compressed air and enough food for supper. The afternoon was spent at the tedious job of opening oysters. It was slow going. None of the three had the skill of a professional oyster opener.
The job was totally unrewarding.
“Not one pearl.” Biff sighed.
“Not even a single tiny one,” Derek said sadly.
“Now, don’t be downhearted, boys,” Uncle Charlie said, trying to cheer them up. “Can’t expect to hit it the first day.”
“At any rate, we’ve got enough oysters to make a stew. If we had some milk,” Biff said.
“Afraid not, Biff.”