The captain nodded.
"You know a milk sea is caused by a multitude of little animals that color the water milky white. They're phosphorescent at night. This must be something on that order, only these cluster together until the water is made into a jelly. And they have a queer, slimy smell."
"They aren't phosphorescent," said Davis.
"No, of course not."
Nita Morrison had joined the little group. Her father was beside her, looking rather worried.
"Well," said Nita anxiously, "what's to be done? How are we going to get the yacht free?"
"I'm afraid we aren't," said Davis, smiling. "The telegraphed orders that brought me here told me simply to make an examination and make a report. My plane can't do anything for the yacht, of course."
"Then what——"
"I'll go back and report," Davis explained, "and they'll send boats to try to get in to you people. There doesn't seem to be any immediate danger, and at worst you can all be taken off by aëroplane, if we can rise again from that jelly mess."
Nita wrinkled her small nose.