For the best part of the next five weeks adverse climatic conditions prevented the salvage of the stranded sea-plane. Unless given remarkably fine and calm weather, the sand-dunes of Thorbury, fringed by extensive shoals carrying less than a fathom of water, were inaccessible.
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.
By this time the tide was ebbing with considerable strength, its rate exceeding five knots. The danger arose of the unwieldy craft being carried out across the bar to the open sea, and it was only by dint of hanging on to fifty fathoms of rope that the men could keep the floats in check. During these operations one of the floats capsized in the rollers that were sweeping in over the bar, and before it could be righted Derek and half a dozen of his men had their sea-boots filled with water.
At the nearest point to the lorry where the floats could be grounded was an expanse of a hundred yards of soft sand. All the man-power at Derek\'s command was unable to drag the floats up the gradually-shelving incline, nor could the lorry be brought any nearer by reason of the yielding nature of the sand.
"Proper Marathon, eh, what?" remarked Derek, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.
"Pity we hadn\'t burnt these as well," rejoined Kaye. "Already these salvage operations cannot have cost a penny less than thirty pounds, and in the end these blessed floats will be sold for as many shillings to some blighter who wants them for fishing-punts."
"Service, my impatient lad; Service with a big S!" exclaimed Derek laughingly. "The main point is, we\'ve got to bring these wretched floats back to the depot. I\'m going to try hauling them up by means of the lorry. S\'pose it\'s man enough for the job."
Accordingly a sufficient length of stout rope was lashed round one of the floats and also to the lorry. At the signal the powerful vehicle began to move slowly ahead, and, with hardly a hitch, the float slithered over the sand up the incline and on to the hard ground. The second float followed suit, and then came the task of loading up.
By the time the two floats, the dinghy, and the gear were piled upon the lorry there was precious little room for eleven persons, but the Royal Air Force men were not to be deterred by trifles. Swarming all over the small mountain of gear, and even perched upon the canvas awning, they returned tired but triumphant. At last the work of salvage was compl............