“There are shoals of bonito about, and the Camel can dress them fine. You don’t know how good they are, freshly caught and fried.”
Fitz made an impatient gesture.
“How soon is your father coming below?” he said.
“Oh, he may be down any moment. He and Mr Burgess are taking observations overhead and calculating our course.”
“Then he won’t be very long,” said Fitz.
“Oh no. Want to speak to him?”
“Yes, particularly.”
Poole gave the speaker a sharp look, which evidently meant, I wonder what he wants to say.
At that moment the boys’ eyes met, and Fitz said, as if to evade a question—
“Don’t you learn navigation—take observations, and that sort of thing?”