The kids are off camping on a tiny deserted South Sea island, on which they find a mystery because of course they do, they're like bloodhounds that way. I'm on the sixth of these books now and I think I'm slowly becoming inured to the utter ridiculousness of the plots. I mean, I get it's adventure wish-fulfilment for kids, and they're so enormously optimistic because they are for early readers, who no doubt don't want to be put off literacy for life by the infantile equivalent of Tess of the D'Urbervilles (which I just finished reading yesterday, so thank you for that endless dose of misery Mr. Hardy, appreciate it I do not). But still. Even with the ridiculousness there are some things that cannot be overlooked - like the fact that, on this tiny island, the kids discover a 100 foot long giant stone statue, like the ones of Easter Island, when the man who was shipwrecked on that island for literally years never noticed it. I swear I felt my brain stutter at that one. But, credit where it's due, these books are thoroughly good-natured, everyone's always kind to each other and tries their best to be happy and self-sufficient and you know, no-one's playing in a uranium mine this time around so as ridiculous as the plot is, it's still a cut above some of the previous volumes.