It was not necessary to reach the island before morning and when Dick relieved Gaines at the motor, a call for half speed went through the speaking tube to the motor room.
The young motorist studied his charts, then, with the surroundings of the islands clearly in mind, took the steering wheel himself and laid his course by compass.
It was about five o'clock in the morning when the Grampus rounded a bluff headland and took a due east course across Tona Bay. Quiriquina Island loomed up clear and distinct against the gray dawn hovering in the eastern skies.
The cove which Matt selected as a berth for the submarine while repairs were being made had a sloping beach of white sand. It was virtually a bay within a bay, and the waters were as calm as those of an inland lake.
As soon as the anchors were down, all hands came on deck to get a whiff of the morning air.
"We'd better have breakfast before we tackle the valves, hadn't we, Matt?" inquired Speake. "I know I can work better on a full stomach, and I suppose the rest of you can."
"Good idea, Speake," returned Matt. "I had thought about that, but supposed you would like to loaf a little and not pen yourself up in the torpedo room with an electric stove."
"Those confounded valves bother me," grumbled Speake, "and I couldn't loaf and enjoy myself if I had to think about them."
"They bother me, too," added Glennie, "and I believe I'll go below and look them over."