"Don't!" he exclaimed.
"Why not?"
"Sharks."
That was all of the conversation. Before I was half dressed the skipper touched my arm and pointed at a long, dark gray object that loafed along against the tide six or eight feet below our keel. It was a shark. My hair bristled. You see it is advisable to know sometimes just where you are "at."
Diving is certainly the best way for you to enter the water—always provided that you know all about its depth. Nothing can be more unhealthful than the dawdling habit of wading out ankle-deep or knee-deep, and waiting to get your courage up. The hot sun beats down on your head. Your feet and legs are in the cool water whose temperature is anywhere from ten to twenty-five degrees lower than that of the air.
You can't remain long under these conditions without injuring yourself. Nature's plan is to have the head cool and the extremities warm. Go contrary to this, and you are in trouble. Probably most of you can remember having had a headache some time or other from this very cause. Indeed, physicians will tell you that many attacks of cramps in the water are due to the swimmer's foolish habit of wading in very slowly. Deranged circulation causes cramps. In places where it is not safe to dive you can easily stoop over and throw a few handfuls of water on your head. Then hurry forward and throw yourself in—fall in. Will other fellows laugh at your precautions? Well, let them laugh, and pay for it with the twinges of cramps. I have been swimming twenty years, and I've never had a cramp, simply because I've followed the rules laid down here.
Never let yourself be frightened in the water. A boy I know found himself far outside of the breakers at Cape May. He swam deep—that is, with his feet far below him—and found that in spite of his efforts he was making no headway, or very little. Instead of howling for help, and using up his strength in struggles that would drown him before help could arrive, he put his wits to work. He soon found that the off-shore current was below the surface, and that at the very top of the water the flow was toward the shore. Thereupon he drew up his legs and swam as near the surface as he could. Even then it was a long swim for a twelve-year-old boy, but he got the beach under his feet at last. Another boy I know was dragged far out by a "sea-puss" at Long Branch—one of those deadly, swift, sudden currents that pounce on a bather unawares and carry him away from shore. This boy waved his arm and shouted for help. When he saw the men on shore running toward a surf-boat he calmly turned over on his back and devoted all his energies to floating. He had been carried nearly a mile before he was rescued. If either one of these boys had been frightened he probably would have drowned.
