Bear opened the bag and tipped its contents out onto the deck. Mia realised it was another sail, all folded up tight. Bear unfurled it to its full length, and then with Mia’s help he folded it double, then double again, until it was its full length, but only a quarter of its width.

“Now,” Bear said, “we’re going to pass this under the boat, and fasten it in place.”

They each took one end of the folded sail and lowered it into the sea on either side of Ursula’s pointy front end. They let it sink down and then they slowly walked backwards on opposite sides of the deck, taking their ends of the sail with them.

“This is the place,” Bear said when they were about three metres back from the front end. “Now, hold onto both ends. You’ll have to grip tight.”

Mia held onto her end with one hand, and reached across to take Bear’s end of the folded sail with the other. The sail tugged and jerked. It was heavy and hard to get a grip on. Her fingers ached and she just wanted to let go.

And she almost did, before she remembered one thing that was kind of important. This sail was meant to stop Ursula from sinking.

So Mia held on.

Bear whipped a length of rope through metal eyelets set into the ends of the sail, tying the two ends together. At last Mia could let go. She worked out that the sail was now wrapped completely around the hull, pressed tight against the damaged planks and held in place by the rope. Bear dropped down through the hatch for a moment, and emerged again looking pleased.

“That did the trick, just like it did two hundred years ago for Admiral Nelson. He had to patch up cannon-ball damage but the idea’s the same.”

“Is it waterproof?” Mia asked.

Bear smiled.

“No, but water pressure is pushing it against the hull to seal the hole – the water will still come through, slowly. We’re going to have to pump, regularly and often.”

Mia felt mostly relieved. Bear sounded more relaxed so she guessed that much of the danger was over. They weren’t going to sink. She didn’t really listen to Bear’s comment about pumping.

Bear puffed his cheeks out.

“We’d better have some water and some rations before we do the next bit. That last knock caused even more damage.”

Mia’s brief feeling of being okay suddenly vanished.

“Another hole?” she asked in alarm. Bear had already said that Ursula’s dinghy was swept away in the storm. If the boat went down now, then there was nowhere for them to go.

“Fortunately, no. But it took away the rudder. We’ve got no way to steer. Right now, we’re just drifting out of control.”

5

MIXED MESSAGES

“Eighty-five …” Mia gasped. “Eighty-six …”