We walked across the fringe of beach under the cocoanut-palms and into the little town, and found several hundred riotous seamen from all the world, drinking prodigiously, singing prodigiously, dancing prodigiously--and all on the main street to the scandal of a helpless handful of Japanese police.
Victor and Axel said that we'd have a drink before we started on our long walk.

Could I decline to drink with these two chesty shipmates?
Drinking together, glass in hand, put the seal on comradeship.

It was the way of life.

Our teetotaler owner-captain was laughed at, and sneered at, by all of us because of his teetotalism.

I didn't in the least want a drink, but I did want to be a good fellow and a good comrade.