"In air parlance," he explained, "to taxi is to run a plane along the ground or on the water--just now, it isn't all it's cracked up to be."
"I should think it would be easier than flying."
"Not on water as rough as this. Your legs go to sleep with the strain you have to put on the rudder pedals."
"Oh--you're steering with your feet?"
"Yes."
"Well, why don't you let me help you? I'll drive her for a while," offered Dorothy.
Bill shook his head. "It's terribly hard work," he demurred.
"What of it? I'm as strong as an ox."
"Thanks a lot. You're a real sport. But the difficulty is in shifting places with me without swamping the old bus. She isn't equipped with dual controls. There's only one set of pedals, and as soon as I release them she will slue broadside to the waves, the wings will crumple, and she'll simply swamp and go under."
"And you must taxi either before the wind, or into the wind as we are now, in seas like these?"