Of course the craft, as I have said, was built to navigate on the water by means of pontoons or hydroplanes, but this could be done only on comparatively calm surfaces. With the sea boiling and seething as it now was, the Comet would have been wrecked had she fallen into it.
“I almost wish we were in that submarine,” said Ned, as he came to stand near Jerry, to aid him if necessary.
“Why?” called Bob from the little galley.
“Because then we wouldn’t mind the storm, no matter how hard it blew. Don’t you remember reading that a comparatively short distance below the surface the effect of a storm is not felt? Those fellows can sail along, deep down under the ocean, and not even know a blow is going on up above.”
“Well, they may be safer than we are,” exclaimed Bob, as he put on another pot of coffee, taking care to secure it to the electric stove so it would not spill off, “but, all the same, I don’t go in much for submarines. They’re too likely not to come to the top when you want them to.”
“Not the newest models,” defended Ned, who seemed to have taken a sudden interest in the under-water boats. “They rarely have an accident now-a-days. I’d like to take a chance in one.”
“I think I would too,” spoke Jerry, eagerly.
“Well, if you fellows go, of course I’m not going to back out,” asserted Bob, who, to do him credit, was as full of grit, when the test came, as either of his chums.
“Oh, I don’t know that there is any likelihood of our navigating one,” went on Jerry. “Still, you never can tell. It’s about the only kind of locomotion we haven’t tried yet.”