Chapter 44

Junior put Andrea to practicing 'splash and goes' while David was messing with the machine tools in the hangar. Junior took Connie to the sheds (Quonset huts) to see what was around for spares. Having found nine Packard 4M-2500 with superchargers, intercoolers, dual magnetos and two spark plugs per cylinder rated 1500 hp still in crates at the boat basin was a delight.

The main consideration was fuel; a PT boat carried 3,000 gallons of 100 octane aviation gasoline. At 23 knots they had enough fuel for 12 hours. Hot rodding it used 500 gallons per hour to produce 41 knots. 3,000 gallons of fuel would be used in only about 6 hours.

The saving grace was the watch: timing it caused internal combustion engines to use no fuel or oil ... they never ran out.

The huts produced crated spare 450 horsepower Pratt and Whitney nine-cylinder, air-cooled, radial engines ... Wasp juniors ... and, oddly enough, Ranger sixes still in the box.

"Somewhere around here is a Widgeon," Junior said.

"A bird?" asked Connie.

"That too ... but this Widgeon is a smaller version of the Goose ... the airplane ... not the bird. Those Ranger engines are spares for the Widgeon. I wonder where it is? David!!!"

David came running out of the hangar. "Junior?"

"We're back here!"

Sure he was going to find blood and broken bones, he ran into the Quonset. "You scared me half to death ... what's up?"

"Did you find a Widgeon?"

"Nope ... no small ducks here."

"The airplane."

"No ... why?"

"There's spare engines for one ... or three ... since there's six crates of them."

"Only one airplane in the hangar ... a second Goose."

"Oh hell, I'll come see."

Junior walked back with David ... Connie looked in the Quonsets.

The hangared Goose was forlorn ... a broken spar made one wing droop ... it was possible to tell that a crew had been dismantling it when they were called away. There was an engine hoist attached to one engine ... the one with a bent propellor tip, and various and sundry panels were removed and wiring and cables were scattered here and there. Too bad ... wasn't what they were looking for ... but interesting anyway.

They keep looking around ... moving this, that and the other ... pushing and shoving until David got a crick in his back ... he stretched and wobbled his head ... and looked up. The shadow of crates hung from the joists. It was only then that the size of the hangar impressed the two of them

"Those?" David asked, pointing.

"Probably. It's pretty dark ... Company?"

The UFO flitted in the big hangar. "You rang?"

"We need some light, please ... shine a little on those crates on the ceiling," begged Junior.

"Sure," the UFO said.

The flash of light outshone the sun. Groans and complaints abound. "A little less please ... you're a bright little saucer."

"Is that better?"

"Give me a minute to see again," David said. He had tears in his eyes.

On walkabout, a group of Fitzmaurice Aborigines were set on examining the damage the 'whites' were doing to their land ... no matter what the English thought about it.