It's raining as Remington's two bearded boat builders trudge along, half hidden by umbrellas, and the scratchy darkness of these wordless, busy pages makes it as hard for us to ""read"" this as it is for the characters to see their way. A silly looking sun does come out when the pair arrive at a lake, and it (yes, the sun) is busy slurping up the water all the time that the men are engaged in constructing their vessel--and in further cluttering up the pages. First, they draw life size plans in the sand with their umbrellas, from which they then pull all their tools and materials, including planks many times the umbrellas' length. At the end when the moon is out and the ship completed down to the hammocks and figurehead, the only water left is a drop the sun has spit back out before setting. This sort of thing probably takes a certain measure of cleverness to conceive and execute, but like the landlocked boat, it won't do much for anyone.