Then Ted related how he was climbing up the outside of the boat as it waited on the beach to be released.
“No harm done,” said Lars Oleson, who was the captain of the boat. “You’ll get a bit dirty when we fill up the boat—that is, if we get enough fish to do so—but you won’t be in any danger. Stow him up in the bow, some of you, on a pile of nets. It’s getting rough.”
Indeed, the wind was blowing harder now, whipping spray from the crests of the waves and sending it in a shower over the boat. However, it was July and the day was warm.
Ted was lifted up farther toward the bow, or front end of the boat, which was higher than amidships, or the middle. Under the protection of the high bow, Ted sat down on a pile of nets. He rather liked the tarry smell, but he was afraid some of the tar would come off on his clothes. And he was right—it did.
“But it’s my old suit,” he thought. Mrs. Martin had been wise in making the children don old garments to play down on the sand.
Now the spray from the waves did not reach Ted, though the men were showered with it. But they did not seem to mind. It was part of their business. Then, too, they wore heavy oilskin coats which kept them dry.
After the first shock of his fall and his fright, Teddy’s heart did not beat so hard. He was rather glad, after all, that it had happened this way.
“But I guess Janet will be scared,” he told himself. “And I wonder what Mother and Daddy will say?”
There was one consolation, though, he would soon be back on the beach again. He heard the fisherman say that. They talked of the number of fish the other boat had brought in. This would not leave many for them, and they would be through that much more quickly.
Now that he was in a sheltered place, Teddy began to feel better. On, on to sea, toward the line of nets, rode the craft.