Christmas was drawing on apace, and the prospect of liberal leave demanded a "settling up" of the matter of the sea-plane as soon as possible. Having received his instructions either to salve or destroy the errant machine, Derek proceeded to Thorbury in a brand-new motor-boat fitted with a powerful paraffin engine, and capable of keeping the sea in almost any weather. Compared with the earlier motor-boats to which Derek had been accustomed, R.A.F. 21, as she was officially designated, was a ship. With sleeping accommodation for two officers and four men, and fitted with a small but efficient galley, she was practically independent of the shore in the matter of sleeping and feeding her crew.
Rounding Thorbury Head, R.A.F. 21 very cautiously approached the coast, keeping her lead-line going continuously. At a fathom and a half she anchored. It would be unwise to proceed farther in; even then the shore was only four hundred yards away.
Manning a dinghy Derek went ashore. It was a difficult matter, for the ground-swell was breaking heavily.
A brief examination of the sea-plane showed that her days were over. "Beach-combers" had already been at work, and several of the metal fittings had been stolen. It was also evident that an attempt to launch the sea-plane through the surf would meet with failure.
"She'll have to go," declared Derek to Kaye, who had accompanied him. "I'll send off for some petrol."
The crew set to work to remove the floats and dismantle the motor. This done, the fuselage was drenched with petrol and set on fire. In a quarter of an hour nothing but a few charred struts and tangled tension-wires remained.
Finding that it was impracticable to remove the floats—each of which weighed two hundredweight—except by land, Derek returned to make his report. His next task was to proceed by motor-lorry and bring the remains back to the depot.
Laden with a dinghy, two coils of three-inch rope, some "internal iron-bound blocks" (otherwise large pulleys), and nine men under Derek's orders, a large motor-lorry left Sableridge for Thorbury. The day was a perfect one, and the men were in high spirits, for the "stunt" promised to be of the nature of a picnic. In forty minutes the ponderous vehicle had covered the twelve miles between Sableridge and Thorbury, then further progress was barred by soft, yielding sand.
Between the lorry and the floats were first a stretch of fairly deep water forming part of Thorbury Harbour, and then three hundred yards of hummocking sand covered with coarse grass. The dinghy was unloaded, and the men and gear ferried across. Round one of the floats was passed a long rope, and all hands, tailing on to the slack, began to haul away. The result was rather surprising, for directly the heavy mass began to move half a dozen large rats scampered from the interior of the float.
Foot by foot, yard by yard, the float was man-hauled to the shore of the harbour, where, in sheltered water, it was launched and anchored until the second float was treated in a similar manner.