“You’ll get your share along with the rest,” stated the bluejacket. He had the look of a seasoned seaman. Nancy judged him to be well over thirty, the oldest person aboard. Suddenly he seemed to accept the situation with what grace he could. He glanced around at his boat-mates and said, “Well, ladies and gentlemen, looks like we’re in for it.”
Even while he spoke a brilliant red sun slowly became a burning disk where sea and sky met. It seemed a warning of what they had to endure.
“First thing in order,” said the sailor, “is to take stock of all supplies—food and water.”
Nancy and Mabel reached into their musette bags to bring out their bars of chocolate and the small tins of concentrated food to add to the common stock.
Nancy noticed that the girl across from them had her canteen, but no bag.
“I see the young ladies are good seamen and have brought their canteens,” continued the sailor.
“I have mine, too,” said the private, putting his hand to his hip.
“Looks like I forgot mine,” said the dazed corporal, making a futile search for his canteen.
The bluejacket got out the boat’s supplies and stored with them what Nancy and Mabel had contributed. There was food and water enough surely to last until they were picked up, and navigation instruments, too, in case no help came.