Here be dragons

I'm at a long, one story house with a terrace and a low roof. The sun is hot and the light has orange undertones; the garden is dusty and the trees and bushes are darkened and leaveless. I'm here to baby-sit three kids: a girl in here late teen, a boy slightly yonger and a girl barely out of toddlerhood. All three are dark-haired and rather cheeky. I take them to the pool behind the house to cool everyone off. The father, an whale of a man with a walrus moustache, makes a rude comment about the contents of my bathing suit and I dive into the pool. The water is warm and murky, the bottom of it full of slurge. My hair obscures my vision and when I wave them out I see that a whole wooden boat is embedded in the thick slurge of the bottom of the pool. I resurface and swim to the side to get out of the water. It runs down my body, making dark puddles on the stone terrace. I tells the family about the boat and the father is very excited about it, making it sound like there is a treasure in there somewhere. I have to keep the children from trying to explore it, and I'm annoyed with the rude father not thinking about their safety and oogling me.