One morning soon after their arrival at Ocean Point the boys went down
to the beach equipped with a novelty that they had often heard about,
but had never seen until the night before.
It had been Jimmy's birthday, and his father had made and sent him a
gayly decorated surfboard to celebrate the occasion. When he first saw
it Jimmy was at a loss to know what kind of strange present he had
received, but when he showed it to the other radio boys, Bob quickly
told him what it was for.
"I saw a moving picture once that showed the beach at Tampa," said Bob.
"It looked as though almost everybody had one of those surfboards, as
they are called."
"Yes, but what do you do with the thing? That's what I want to know,"
complained Jimmy. "It looks like something that would be fine for
scaring the birds away from the garden, but, aside from that, I can't
think of much use for it."
"Why, you just flop down on it against the crest of a surf wave, and the
wave does the rest," explained Bob. "At least, that's the way it looked
in the pictures. The wave carries you and the surfboard along in front
of it, and believe me, you travel some, too."
"Well, that listens all right," said Jimmy dubiously. "But since you
know all about it, it's up to you to try it out, Bob."
"Surest thing you know, I'll try it out," returned Bob. "I suppose we'll
get plenty of duckings while we're learning how, but we'll be out for a
swim, anyway, so what's the difference?"
On the morning following they sallied out bright and early, eager to
experiment with this latest means of amusement.
"I only hope there's a good surf running," said Bob. "I suppose now that
we want it to be a little rough, the sea will be as smooth as a mill
pond."
"Well, I hope not," said Jimmy. "I've never seen a mill pond myself, but
according to all the dope they must be about the stillest things that
ever happened. I wonder if there is such a thing as a rough mill pond.
If there is, I'd be willing to go a long way to see it."
"Oh, there are lots of things like that," said Herb, laughing. "For
instance, whoever saw an aspen leaf that didn't quiver?"
"Yes, or a terrier that didn't shake a rat," said Joe.
"Or a pirate that didn't swagger," said Jimmy.
"Or even a pancake that wasn't flat," added Bob.
"Good night!" laughed Herb. "What have I started here, anyway? We'll all
be candidates for the lunatic asylum if we keep this up very long."
"Oh, well, after being around with you so long, we'd feel right at
home," said Jimmy sarcastically.
"I haven't any doubt _you'd_ feel at home, all right," retorted Herb.
"I'll bet you'd feel at home right away."
"You bet I would," said Jimmy. "All I'd have to do would be to tell them
some of your bum jokes, and they'd elect me a charter member right off
the bat."
"I think Jimmy would show up even better as a member of the Pie-eater's
Union," said Joe. "He has such a special gift in that direction that
he'd soon be champion of the whole outfit."
"Well, it's something to be a champion of anything in these days of
competition in sports," said Jimmy. "But here we are, Bob, and here's
_your_ chance to demonstrate how to become a champion surfboard artist."
"All right, I'm game," said Bob. "Hand over that instrument of torture,
and I'll be the goat and give you fellows a good chance to laugh at me."
The surfboard was about the shape and size of a small ironing board,
although much lighter. Equipped with this device, Bob waded into the
surf, holding the surfboard over his head until he got into water as
deep as his shoulders. There was a fairly high surf running, in spite of
his pessimistic prophecy to the contrary. Bob waited until an unusually
high breaker came curling in, and then launched himself and the
surfboard against the green wall of water.
More by good luck than anything else he caught it at the right angle,
and went whirling toward the shore at breath-taking speed. For perhaps a
hundred feet he held his position, but then tilted to one side, and in a
moment he and the surfboard disappeared in a smother of foam and spray.
Tumbled over and over, he finally got to his feet, after the force of
the wave had spent itself, and waded into shore, puffing and blowing.
"I got a good start, anyway," he panted. "I guess it takes practice to
keep your balance and come all the way in, but it's a great sensation.
I'm going to try it again." Suiting the action to the word, Bob waded
valiantly in again. After several attempts he finally caught a big wave
just right, and by frantic balancing rode all the way in to shallow
water. "There you are!" exclaimed Bob triumphantly. "Say, when we once
get on to this, it ought to be barrels of fun. Who's going to be the
next one to try it?"
"I'll take a whirl at it," said Joe. "It looked easy enough the way you
rode in the last time."
"Sure it's easy," grinned Bob, shaking the water out of his ears. "Go to
it, Joe. I'll stand by to rescue you if you need it."
Joe made several attempts, and received some rough handling from some
big breakers before he finally contrived to make a fairly successful
trip.
"Wow!" he exclaimed, scrambling to shore and throwing the surfboard at
Jimmy. "It's fun if you have luck, but I thought I was going to drink
the whole Atlantic Ocean once or twice. You try it, Jimmy. It's your
board, anyway."
"Yes, I know it's my board," said Jimmy. "Don't you want to try it next,
Herb?"
"Oh, I wouldn't think of using it before you," said Herb. "I want to
have the fun of seeing you get drowned before me, Doughnuts."
"Well, I suppose I shouldn't refuse to give you that pleasure, so here
goes," returned Jimmy, and he waded manfully into the surf, the board
poised above his head.
He made a lunge at the first big breaker that came along, but instead of
planting the board at an angle, he slapped it against the wave in a
vertical position, and the next second he was underneath the board and
was being ignominiously rolled and tumbled along the sandy bottom. When
the wave finally left him, he staggered to his feet and found the
treacherous surfboard floating within a yard of him.
His companions, seeing him safe, laughed heartily at his woebegone and
bedraggled appearance.
"It's great sport, isn't it, Jimmy?" chaffed Bob.
"Sure it is, when you do it right," sputtered Jimmy. "I'm going to try
it again, if it kills me," and he seized the recalcitrant surfboard and
waded doggedly out again. This time his persistence met with a better
reward, for, warned by his previous experience, he placed the board
flatter this time, and rode in almost to shore before getting upset.
"That's enough for a starter," he gasped. "There certainly is plenty of
excitement to it. Go ahead and try it, Herb, with my blessing."
Herb did not seem any too anxious to follow his friend's bidding, but
nevertheless he took the board, and after several attempts got the hang
of it well enough to get enthusiastic over it.
"It's simply great when you get started right!" he exclaimed. "We'll
each have to get one, and we'll have more sport than a little with
them."
For the rest of the morning the boys took turns with the contrivance,
and by the time they stopped to go home for lunch had gotten quite
expert. That afternoon they got their tools, and by evening had
fashioned three duplicates of Jimmy's board. On following days they used
them to good effect, and before they left Ocean Point that summer they
were all adepts at this new form of sport.