“I never take a dare,” replied Joe.
“Count me in,” said Herb.
“I’m with you,” chimed in Jimmy.
They sought and got permission from Lieutenant Mayhew, who just then was the officer of the deck, and hurried to their cabin, where they slipped on the bathing trunks that they had packed in their suitcases when they started on their trip. In a short time they were ready and made for the deck.
“Last one in is a Chinaman,” sang out Bob, as he raced for the boom.
All sought to avoid the stigma, but Jimmy, with his short legs, was at a disadvantage and proved to be the Chinaman. At that, he was so slightly behind the others that the splash of the four bodies as they went down was almost simultaneous.
Despite the ensign’s assurances, they had not felt quite sure as to the temperature of the water, but as they rose after their immersion and shook the water from their eyes, they were agreeably surprised to find that there was none of the heart-gripping cold they had half anticipated.
“Why, the water’s as warm as milk!” sputtered Joe, with a little exaggeration, as he struck out.
“Like milk that’s been standing in the refrigerator for a while,” corrected Herb. “But it isn’t so bad, at that. I’ve found it colder sometimes in an early morning swim at Ocean Point.”
They were overjoyed beyond measure to find themselves at a pastime that they had mentally relinquished for the rest of that year, and they made the most of it. Again and again, they climbed up the ladder and dived from the boom. They were all good swimmers, and their skill in that respect earned them the respect of the sailors. The men at first had been inclined to grin at the “land-lubbers,” but they were soon forced to admit that there was little they could teach them when it came to swimming.