"I suppose you'll make Falmouth to-day," remarked Mr. Graham.
Mr. Armitage glanced aloft, where the clouds were scudding fairly rapidly across the sky.
"Glass is falling," he replied. "I think we'll keep inside the breakwater to-day. Look here, Graham, suppose we run you up the Tamar. It will knock about twelve miles off your journey."
"Thanks awfully," said Mr. Graham frankly.
"We don't know the Tamar," continued Mr. Armitage, "but there's no reason why we shouldn't find our course up the river. It won't be the first time we've had to navigate strange waters. It will be rather fun. Start her up, lads."
In five minutes the crew of the Olivette had their able little craft ready to get under way. The warps holding her to the Unity were cast off, and the boat began to gather way.
As usual, Mr. Armitage left the navigation to his Patrol Leader, merely standing by ready to correct any possible error that might result in a serious mishap. So Woodleigh, with a large-scale chart of "The Approaches to Plymouth", was in the wheelhouse, giving the course to Flemming at the wheel.
Warkworth was in charge of the motor, and, as was the invariable custom in crowded waters, kept within arm's length of the clutch. The rest of the Sea Scouts were on deck taking in the ever-changing view with the deepest interest.
Drake's Island glided past on the port beam. The intricate narrows between Devil's Point and Cremyll were safely negotiated, and the expansive Hamoaze, a sheltered sheet of water large and deep enough to accommodate the navies of the world, came into view.
Assisted by the strong flood-tide, the Olivette made rapid progress past the Royal Dockyard and Keyham Yard to starboard, and with warships of all sizes and descriptions lying at moorings on their port hand.