Ker-plunk. Crash. As I fall toward the water on my fourth attempt I attempt to form a diving position. No luck. When I painfully hit the surface the other penguins laugh.
“Nice dive, Jason,” Sam manages to get out between laughs pushing him out of the way to get to the rock. A big splash, pretty good.
Sam isn’t the best at diving though her popularity helps give her friends.
“Nice dive,” shouts her friend Thomas sarcastically.
They look at me and I swim away.
The next day the same thing happens. And the day after. I’ve started to improve though. However, even as I improve, according to the other penguins I’m only getting worse. I go for a swim one day. A jet of water flies out and I fly up. I try to land in a dive, but nope. Belly flop again.
“Woah, bad dive,” says a deep but friendly voice. I look down and see a huge creature. “I’m Gary the whale. I’m great at diving. Wanna learn?”
Hesitantly I agree. He jumps out of the water splashing.
“Woah,” I stammer shakily.
“Yeah, I know. Perfect dive, right?” booms Gary.
Over time I learn to dive like Gary. I head to the other penguins, proud to show my progress.
I speed over bursting with adrenaline. I feel eyes staring at me as I climb the rock. I’m not used to algae on the rock. I slip a bit preparing.
I slip as I jump. Scared, I jump out of my belly flop position into an awkward headfirst one. Everyone goes insane.
“Wow,” says Sam. “You just created a new type of dive.”
That is how dives became the way they are.