The afternoon was perfect. Fred was engineering an impossibly complex sandcastle complete with moats, drawbridges, and hidden trapdoors. Daphne, in a chic oversized sunhat, was testing the water temperature with perfectly manicured toes. Velma, of course, was knee-deep in the tide pools, cataloging crustaceans.

Out from the lighthouse stumbled Old Man Jenkins, the crabby beachcomber who owned the run-down Tiki Hut.

While Daphne distracted the Serpent by throwing her designer flip-flops at its head (they bounced off harmlessly, but with style), Velma circled around to the old pier. She noticed a series of submerged tracks leading from the pod to a hidden alcove beneath the boardwalk. And inside that alcove? A rusty lever, a crank, and a marine-grade engine.