Scotty grinned. "Any flying saucer that can navigate in this weather is welcome to what it gets. How's the anchor?"
"Holding," Rick said. "I hope." He looked out the galley window and watched the shore. It changed position as the boat moved, but that was only because the houseboat was swinging at anchor. "Seems all right," he added.
Ten minutes later coffee was ready. The boys sat at the dinette table and sipped with relish, listening to the storm outside. It seemed to be increasing in intensity.
"Picking up," Scotty said. "The guidebook wasn't kidding when it said 'sudden and severe summer storms lash the bay.'"
"Wonder how long they last?" Rick asked.
"Hard to say. Perhaps an hour."
The houseboat jerked suddenly. Rick jumped to his feet. "Did you feel that?"
The boat heeled under the lash of wind. Rick peeled off his sweat shirt. "Feels as though the anchor dragged a little. I'm going out and let out more scope. We can't take a chance of drifting in this wind."
"I'll go," Scotty offered.
"No. I put the anchor down. It's my fault if it slips. Stand by."