Bill pushed forward the stick, at the same time he cut his gun and the Loening amphibian he was piloting shot downward. Far below, the island-studded waters of Whitewater Bay sparkled in the summer sunlight. Lying on its quiet bosom like great waterbugs with wings spread were the five seaplanes of the Navy Squadron moored in simple V-formation. Even at that distance, Bill could make out the difference in design of the flying boats.