The captain took down one. Jack saw that it showed the Caribbean. With a brown forefinger the captain checked off the course of the Tropic Queen and her present whereabouts, as marked that day by the chief officer when the log was written up.
“No chance of getting this ship anywhere within ten miles of the island,” he said, after he had examined the soundings carefully. “It is one of the worst places charted in these seas.”
“You mean it is unapproachable, sir?” asked Jack.
“Yes, to a degree. It is surrounded by shoals and reefs. It would be suicide to try to navigate a ship of this size amongst them.”
“What can be done then, sir?” asked Jack, who knew that he would have to send a reply to the lighthouse keepers.
“We shall be about twenty miles to the east of the island early to-morrow morning,” said the captain. “You may inform them that I shall send off a boat and perhaps the doctor, if I can spare him.”
“Very well, sir.”
Jack started away, but then lingered.
“Well, what is it?”
The captain swung around in his chair and looked at the boy who hesitated in the doorway.