“What isn’t wrong with my ship?” He asked me, sarcastically.
“When I figure that much out, you’ll be the second person I tell,” I replied.
We were walking on the dock, underneath the San Domino, as a crew was attempting to remove the propeller shaft from the vessel.
“I’d hold my breath until after we finish sandblasting the hull if I were you though,” I added, looking at the heavy pitting and wear on the hull plates.
Mr. Ajo, didn’t seem worried about the prospect of finding damaged steel. “If needs new steel, we’ll add more steel,” he said confidently.