Sweat poured down her face as she heaved on the pump handle. Her arm was killing her. The other side of the hull, water gushed out of the boat and into the sea with every stroke.

The handle was tucked away behind the ladder. When Mia had first gone down below, water had been sloshing on the floorboards. Up on deck, she’d only half-listened to Bear’s instructions. She had been too busy thinking of her own things. But as soon as she saw the water she quickly started pumping. Obviously this was serious.

Every heave felt like she was moving a ton of water.

“Eighty-seven … eighty-eight …”

Bear was on deck, doing more repairs. Bear had suggested that Mia count to a hundred strokes, to make the time pass more easily. Then start again with another hundred, and keep repeating until Ursula was dry.

Mia had lost count of how many times she had got up to eighty-eight, and kept going. Her arm was aching with the unusual effort.

Surely a quick break couldn’t hurt?

Mia paused, and flexed her throbbing arm with relief. But as soon as the pump was quiet, she could hear the water sloshing below.

There was no easy way out of this, she realised. Just pump.

Mia gritted her teeth and started again.

“Eighty-nine …”

On top of all that, there was a really weird smell in the cabin, which made her gag. It was like something had died beneath the boards. Bear said it was the bilges. There was always somewhere, right at the lowest part of the boat, where the pump couldn’t reach. The water down there went stagnant and foul. The flood of sea water had mixed with the bilge water and brought it all up close to the cabin. Every slosh sent a signal to her stomach that she wanted to be sick. She fought it back.

“Ninety … ninety-one … ”

The pump made a gurgling, sucking sound, and suddenly moved more easily. There was almost no resistance.

Mia had done it! She had pumped the water out of the boat!

She scrambled back onto the deck and gratefully breathed the fresh air. The rotten bilge smell still seemed to be lodged inside her, at the back of her throat.

“We’re dry, Bear!” she gasped. “For now.” She knew that more water would already be leaking in through the sail patch.

Bear looked up from what he had been working on, and grinned.

“Brilliant!” he beamed. “Great work, Mia. If we give it a hundred strokes every hour from now on, that should do it. Now, could you get me a length of rope from the second locker along?”

Mia felt a bit cross about being ordered about. But there was no one else to help, so she grudgingly held her breath to go back below, into the bilge-smelling air. She found the rope Bear wanted. Mia was halfway back onto deck before she suddenly realised something.