Turning the extinguishers upside down to break their containers and allow the chemicals to fuse and mix and create pressure and a spouting flow of watery gas, they turned the short nozzles onto the cockpit and cabin. There was the roar and hiss of chemicals meeting their flaring enemy.
There came a great puff of smoke and flame, but Nicky, just in time, on the edge of the cockpit, with Cliff in his arms, leaped!
He struck the water, and began to swim, holding Cliff’s head up!
Tom, freeing himself at the same time, sprang into the water and paddled to his chums.
The cutter came alongside and they were drawn from the water.
And then, with a violent roar as the fire found the gas line and fresh fuel, the fire blazed up again.
“The tank—the aft tank!” cried Jim, leaping from the cabin floor where he had, with his hurt arm, been trying to get the Libertad’s extinguisher into play. “The tank! Get away!”
He leaped into the water and swam off, and at the same time, with a glorious feeling that some High Power had held back the end until all were safely away, Nicky, in the cutter, saw El Libertad’s stern burst into a mass of fire, sparks and rending wooden splinters.
Her stern, literally blown to bits, sank, blazing and hissing, into the channel, leaving her still blazing with her nose on the coral.
There was nothing to do about it.