"Oh, I guess so," was the good-natured answer. "It'll be as good a time as any to give you boys some points on steering. No telling when you may have a boat of your own."
"I wanted my father to get one this year," said Bob, "only he said I was too young to run it, and he didn't have time. When I go back I'll tell him I can steer a boat, and maybe he'll get one."
"I hope he does!" cried Sammy, with visions of what fine fun he and his chums would have in a power boat of their own.
"Well, there's a heap sight more to learn about a motor boat than just steering it," said Silas, with a grin, "though maybe steering comes first. Now I'll show you what to do, and how to do it. Of course I can't show you all the different twists and turns of the channel now—it would take too long to learn them. But I can show you how to steer a boat, how to keep her straight, and how to go to port or starboard, or left and right, as they say now."
The three boys gathered about him as he sat at the wheel, which was made fast to a bulkhead, or partition just outside the cabin. The cabin of the Skip took up about half of the boat, the forward part. The after part was an open space, beneath the floor of which was the motor running in a sort of cockpit.
The motor was covered with a cover, or hatch, as it is called, and when this was in place you could not see the machinery, though it was running beneath your feet.
The cabin was of good size, and had small bunks in it that could be made up into beds. There were also lockers for food and water, and a small oil stove on which Silas cooked when he went off on fishing trips. In fact the Skip was a snug little craft.
"This wheel is what is called a sea wheel," went on Silas, beginning his steering lesson.
"Aren't all wheels sea wheels?" asked Bob.
"No, on some motor boats there are what are called land-lubber wheels."