Dan hauled in the painter, and dropped lightly on to the bottom boards, while Harvey tumbled clumsily after.
"That's no way o' gettin' into a boat," said Dan.

"Ef there was any sea you'd go to the bottom, sure.

You got to learn to meet her." Dan fitted the thole-pins, took the forward thwart and watched Harvey's work.

The boy had rowed, in a lady-like fashion, on the Adirondack ponds; but there is a difference between squeaking pins and well-balanced ruflocks--light sculls and stubby, eight-foot sea-oars.
They stuck in the gentle swell, and Harvey grunted.
"Short! Row short!" said Dan.

"Ef you cramp your oar in any kind o' sea you're liable to turn her over.