“Well, here’s what you try to do. Jump overboard. Turn on your back. I’ll hand you some dry shorts and sweat shirts. Hold them out of water over your head and see if you can make shore that way.”
“I’ll try, Biff. But I don’t know. Getting through the surf isn’t going to be easy. Probably get the clothes wet anyway.”
“We’ll try it. And if they do get wet, the sun will dry ’em fast.”
Li dived into the ocean. He plunged around like a porpoise for a few moments, enjoying and getting the feel of the water. Then he turned on his back and kicked to the side of the yawl. Biff handed down a bundle of clothing, and Li propelled himself away from the boat with a powerful thrust against its side.
Biff slung a pair of binoculars in a waterproof case around his neck and slipped into the water.
Li’s progress was slow. His leg thrusts were those of an excellent backstroke swimmer, but unable to use his arms, he couldn’t go very fast. Biff stayed alongside him.
“I’m going ahead when we reach the shore breakers,” Biff called to Li. “I’m taller than you. Maybe I can reach bottom, and take the clothes from you before a wave rolls over you.”
It was a good plan. But the sea has a way of upsetting good plans, and it did this time. Boys and clothes reached shore equally wet. They wrung out their shorts and sweat shirts as best they could, donned them, and headed up the southern slope of the Mauna Loa in the area called Kau.
They toiled upward, resting at regular intervals. It was hot, tiring work. Their wet clothes clung to their bodies. Perspiration from the effort kept their clothes damp. Even in the heat, Biff found himself shivering convulsively.
“I’ve got a clammy feeling from these clothes. Guess that’s why I’m shivering,” Biff said to his friend. He hoped it was the damp clothing, rather than fear for the safety of his father and Hanale Mahenili.