Mr. Grant had recovered his health when the Sea Scouts’ Jamboree was announced. It was to be a gathering of every troop in the United Kingdom, and was to be held in the spacious land-locked waters of Chichester harbour. There were to be sailing and motor-boat races, rowing and sculling matches, swimming and diving contests, and numerous competitions in which the Sea Scouts were to display their prowess. For those lads who were unable to come round in their own craft a splendid camping site was provided; but, as Peter Craddock remarked, a lot of the fun would be missed if the “Otters” had to hike it by road, and then be compelled to see others display their seamanship, they themselves being unable to compete in friendly rivalry. Without the Puffin, the outlook seemed a bit disappointing.
Then, quite unexpectedly, a chance presented itself. The Scoutmaster heard of a suitable craft offered for sale at a very reasonable figure owing to the present owner finding himself unable to carry out his original intentions.
She was an ex-naval “launch”—a boat propelled either by sail or oars—of very substantial construction and only a few years old. She was forty-two feet in length and diagonal built. That is to say, she had her planks doubled, those forming the outer skin running diagonally on those of the inner skin. This system resulted in great strength of hull, while in addition the edges of the planking were “flush,” otherwise a smooth surface.
Her present owner had intended to convert the launch into a ketch yacht, and had already given her a fairly deep iron keel and had commenced to deck her in and build a cabin. Then he “stuck” owing to lack of funds; and to make the best of his bargain offered the craft as she stood.
“As she stood,” meant that she was lying afloat at Polkebo Creek, a remote inlet of the spacious Cornish harbour of Falmouth, which was a long way from Aberstour.
The Sea Scouts held a council of ways and means. Fortunately they had seven weeks’ holiday. The proposal of a trip to Falmouth to bring back the boat seemed alluring. As for the completion of the conversion job, the lads were all handy with carpenters’ tools: their Troop funds were enough to justify the expenses.
The deal was completed, and the “Otters” lost no time in proceeding to Falmouth and taking over the new craft.
Compared with the Puffin she was a lump of a boat. With her newly fitted iron keel she was “as stiff as a house.” Her original masts, sails, anchor, chain and other gear were stored in a shed adjoining the creek. Timber and other necessary material were readily procurable at Falmouth. Most of these were brought by water in a serviceable 14-foot dinghy that had been included in the bargain.
Work progressed apace. The Sea Scouts stuck it gamely, cheerfully working long hours in the assurance that theirs was a labour of love for that fickle taskmistress the sea. The kindly fisherfolk of Polkebo took great interest in “them young furriners,” giving the amateur shipwrights many useful hints and, what was more, helpful assistance.
There was one exception, however. That was Carlo Bone, generally known as Blueskin, a hulking lout of about thirty and the despair of the district. He was tall, heavily built and, with proper exercise and clean living, ought to have been a formidable figure in the old Cornish pastime of wrestling. Unfortunately he showed no inclination either to work or to play decently. When sheer necessity compelled him to work, he sometimes shipped on board a coaster. The local fisherfolk knew him only too well, and there was never a berth for him in the pilchard fleet. During his many spells of idleness “on the beach,” he spent all the time the Law allows in lounging in public-houses. He was a cunning poacher, but he had never been caught in the act. Rumour had it that he combined the undesirable occupations of thief and smuggler. Already his evil life had left its mark. His face was flabby, and his features were of a purplish hue. Hence his name Blueskin.