Phineas hovered in the back of the craft, breathing calmly through the tube. Whenever he felt a break, he held his breath until the airflow resumed. Although he was able to keep his head together, the eerie patience of the eel was starting to send it him into a panic. 
After several minutes, the situation seemed useless. Phineas decided his only way out was, rather literally, sink or swim. Carefully, he inserted the tube back into the oil tank. Just as he braced himself to make a dash for the port hole, a shadow passed over the eel. Phineas froze; a bigger creature could pose a much bigger threat. He waited several more seconds and, to his surprise, Eliza appeared before him. In her hands she clutched a rusted pipe, evidently torn from the side of the craft. She braced herself and threw the projectile toward the eel, hitting her target with little effect. The eel turned sharply and darted at her as she surfaced, and Phineas realized with horror, from the faint tingle in the warm water around him, that it had attacked her. He bolted out of the craft, turning his head wildly in search for the eel. When it failed to appear, he lunged upward to Eliza, taking her in his arms. His head erupted out of the water, and he gasped for breath. Immediately he checked her breath; air was still flowing from her lips, so she was at least alive. Consciousness had, however, left her body. Phineas jerked his head in a circle, finally coming upon the thin strip of land that marked their camp. Holding her in one arm, Phineas began to swim towards the beach.

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Exhausted and out of breath, Phineas finally felt his feet touch soft sand below him. Cradling Eliza in his arms, he staggered up the beach, where Joseph was still blowing into the tube. He reached the dry beach and called out hoarsely; "She's hurt! Run and fetch fresh water from the spring!" 
He laid her body on the sand, stepping back to assess her condition. Thankfully, she was still breathing. A dark, ragged scar was beginning to form on her waist.