"Just our luck," rejoined Uncle Brian. "The boat's got a hole in her as big as my head. But we can discuss that later. Breakfast first."
Without the shadow of a doubt, Uncle Brian had risen to the occasion. The biscuits were little the worse for their immersion and, when flavoured with tinned pilchards and bottled tomato soup, were eaten with gusto. The tea, having been stored in an airtight case, was in splendid condition, although Peter deplored the fact that there was no sugar available, and that the condensed milk was of the unsweetened brand.
The meal over, the two men settled down to serious business. An examination of the boat confirmed Uncle Brian's statement. Right amidships was a fairly clean hole about fifteen inches in diameter. A blanket had, by some means, got underneath the bottom boards and had become wedged in the hole, with the result that when the two men had attempted to drag the boat clear of the water, the fabric prevented a free outlet. Now that the obstruction was removed, it was a comparatively simple matter to drag the damaged craft well up on the beach.
"That's one advantage of not having a keel," said Uncle Brian. "We can patch the hole from the outside."
"We can," replied Peter, "but——"
"But what?"
"Now that there is a gap amidships why not use it to take the propeller?" suggested Peter. "It would make the old coffin a jolly sight more seaworthy with that weight transferred from over the stern to the 'midship section."
Brian Strong regarded his nephew suspiciously. He was wondering whether Peter was wandering in his mind, or trying to "pull his leg".
"I mean it," continued Peter.
"Well, what's to keep the water out?"