Presently we brought our mattresses ashore, spread them along the beach and, one by one, dropped off to sleep.
After breakfast the next morning we had a quick swim and got on board the boat. The anchor was pulled up and Taki started the engine. It coughed into life, we moved some six inches and then the engine died.
“Oh, God, don’t tell me we’re going to have engine trouble,” said Larry.
Spiro, scowling, went to consult with Taki. We heard them muttering together and then suddenly Spiro’s voice, like the roar of a bull, raised in anger, heaping obscenities upon Taki’s head.
“What the hell’s the matter?” said Larry.
“This stupids bastards,” said Spiro, red with rage, pointing a stubby, quivering finger at Taki. “This stupids bastards — if you will excuses this words, Mrs Durrells — forgot to gets any more petrols.”
“Why did he forget?” we all asked in unison.
“He says he meants to, but he forgot when he hads to go and gets the ice-boxes.”
“There you are!” said Mother. “I knew it! I knew you shouldn’t have moved that ice-box!”
“Now don’t start on that again,” said Larry. “Where’s the next place we can get petrol from?”
“Taki says it’s Metaloura,” said Spiro.
“Well, that’s simple enough,” said Mactavish. “We can row there in the dinghy.”
“I don’t know whether it’s escaped your notice or not,” said Donald, “but we have no dinghy.”
It was very curious that none of us had noticed this, for most benzinas, especially when doing a trip of this sort, trailed a small boat behind them.
“Well,” said Mactavish, flexing his muscles, “I’m as fit as a fiddle. I can swim there and get help.”
“No, Mr Mactavish,” said Spiro glumly, “it’s ten kilometres.”
“Well, you can land on beaches and things and have a rest,” said Mactavish. “Easily do it by nightfall. Be back in the morning.”
Spiro scowled thoughtfully and then turned to Taki and translated Mactavish’s idea to him. But Taki was vehement. As from this bay to the next bay where petrol could be obtained it was practically all sheer cliffs, there would be nowhere one could go ashore for a rest.
“Oh dear,” said Mother, “what are we going to do?”
“Well, just sit here,” said Larry. “It’s quite simple.”
“What do you mean, it’s quite simple?” asked Mother.
“Well, we just sit here and when a boat passes we signal it, and it will then go down the coast and bring us some petrol. I don’t know what you’re all getting so fussed about.”
“Master Larry’s rights, Mrs Durrells,” said Spiro dismally. “We can’ts do anythings else.”
“Anyway, it’s a delightful spot,” said Larry; “I mean, if we had to break down we couldn’t have chosen a better place.”
So we all got off the boat and sat about on the beach, leaving Taki sitting cross-legged in the bows of our immobilised craft, keeping a careful eye on the mouth of the bay for any fishing boat that could come to our rescue.
The day passed pleasantly enough but no fishing boat passed. and by nightfall Mother was getting increasingly agitated.
“I do wish you’d stop fussing, Mother,” said Larry, “there’s sure to be one to-morrow, and we’ve got plenty of supplies.”
“That’s just the point,” said Mother, “we haven’t got plenty of supplies. I didn’t bring enough to allow for a break-down, and in any case the ice is melting so fast that if we don’t get a boat to-morrow half the food will go bad.”
This was an aspect of our predicament which had not until then struck us. The little bay, with its towering cliffs, provided none of the amenities that Robinson Crusoe had found on his island. There was nothing but a tiny spring of fresh water that trickled down the face of the cliff and formed a stagnant pool in which Theodore had discovered so many forms of life that none of us felt it would be suitable for drinking should our supply of liquid run out.
“Muzzer is not to worry,” said Max, throwing his arms around her protectively. “If necessary ye vill all get behind de boat and push her back to Corfu.”
“Danmed silly suggestion,” said Donald. “Just the sort of suggestion a Continental would make. God knows how many tons she weighs. Couldn’t possibly push her.”
“I’m afraid Donald’s quite right,” said Mactavish. “Fit though I am for my age, I feel that even united as we are, we couldn’t get her very far.”
“I do wish you’d all stop carrying on like this,” said Larry irritably; “after all, this whole coast is littered with fishing boats. There’s bound to be one along sometime to-morrow.”
“Well, I hope you’re right,” said Mother, “otherwise I’m going to have to ration the food.”
“Also, I know it’s only a minor point, but some of these specimens I’ve got are quite rare,” said Theodore, “and unless I can get them back to Corfu fairly soon, I’m afraid..., you know..., because they are so fragile, they are..., you know..., going to disintegrate.”
We all went to bed in an uneasy frame of mind and Taki and Spiro took it in turns to sit in the bows of the benzina watching in case one of the night fishermen passed who they could spot by his carbon light. But dawn came and still there was no sign of rescue. To add to our plight, the ice — having decided to melt — was melting at an alarming rate and we had to dig a hole in the sand and bury quite a lot of the more delicate and perishable foodstuffs that Mother had brought. We had a very meagre lunch.
“Oh dear,” said Mother, “I do wish we hadn’t come.”
“Do not worry, Muzzer,” said Max, “help is on de way. I feel it in my bones.”
“I think Larry’s right,” said Donald. “Lots of fishing boats along this stretch of coast. One’s bound to come along sooner or later.”
“Well, it had better be sooner than later,” said Mother, “otherwise we’re all going to starve to death.”
“It’s all Larry’s fault,” said Leslie belligerently, for he was feeling hungry. “He suggested the trip.”
“Now, don’t turn on me,” said Larry angrily. “You were just as much in favour of it as I was. If the damned thing had been organised properly we wouldn’t be in this predicament.”
“I agree with Leslie,” said Margo. “It was Larry’s suggestion.”
“I didn’t suggest we ran out of petrol in a remote bay surrounded by unclimbable cliffs ten kilometres away from the nearest source of supplies,” said Larry.
“Now, now, dears,” said Mother, “don’t quarrel. I’m sure Donald’s right. There’ll be a fishing boat along soon.”
“In the meantime,” said Sven, “I will play to you, my dear Mrs Durrell, to soothe you.”
It was unfortunate that he chose Bach since, as it apparently soothed him, he was under the impression it soothed everybody else.
But the day passed and no fishing boat appeared. The ice was melting away with great rapidity as, indeed, were our food supplies. Our meal that night would have prompted any Oliver Twist to ask for more.
“Bloody silly,” said Larry. “All these damned fishing boats dashing up and down the coast. Why the hell don’t they fish in this area?”
“Maybe there’ll be a night fisherman tonight,” said Mactavish.
Though Spiro and Taki kept watch, nothing passed the mouth of the bay. For breakfast we had a rather soggy peach each. Lunch consisted entirely of watermelons and bread.
“What do our supplies consist of now?” asked Larry when we had consumed this repast.
“It’s rather fortunate that I am a small eater,” said Theodore, adding hastily, “I mean, fortunate for me, that is.”
“If this goes on I don’t know what we’re going to do,” said Mother, who by now had worked herself into a sort of near panic in spite of everything everybody was trying to do to reassure her.
“Resort to cannibalism,” said Larry.
“Larry dear, don’t joke like that,” said Mother. “It’s not funny.”
“In any case, ha ha,” said Mactavish, “you’d find me rather tough.”
“Oh, we’d start on you,” said Larry, fixing him with a baleful stare. “We’d have you as a rather indigestible hors d’oeuvre. But Leonora, cooked slowly in the sand as they do it in Polynesia would, I feel, be absolutely delicious. Toes, buttocks and breast.”