When he brought it up Ken could see that only the bottom quarter-inch of the stick had touched liquid.
He lifted his eyes from the stick barely in time to shout “Here it comes!” Another massive wall of water was about to crash down upon them.
It was an even bigger wave than the one before. A crushing weight of sea swept over the engine house, to shatter into stinging spray against the rear bulkhead of the cabin. For what seemed endless minutes there was three feet of water piled on the deck, and when it finally drained toward the sides it pulled the boys along with brutal force. They were barely able to prevent themselves from being sucked overboard.
They pulled themselves wearily to their feet again when the worst was over. The water was cold and the air was colder still. Their lips were blue. Their teeth chattered.
Sandy rubbed his hands and blew on the fingers to warm them up.
Ken was looking at the engine house. The side panel had been down when the wave struck.
“Soaked!” Ken shouted, pointing to the engine.
Sandy nodded grim agreement. “Have to dry it. Get blanket—towel—anything.” He jerked his head toward the cabin.
Ken nodded. He took a quick look at the sea around them and then made a dive for the cabin door. He was out again in a moment with a heavy bath towel he had found under the bunk.
Sandy was no longer bent over the engine house. He was trying to open the hasp of a small lean-to built against the cabin wall.