"Get those hatch covers on!" the First Mate yelled, pushing seamen toward the treacherous deck.
 "We'll be killed," a young man yelled.
 "Then be killed, dam you, but save your ship. Get those hatch covers on now," he threatened.
 Jason, Mat, and Peter reluctantly ran out on deck. They took the hatch covers and fought the wind and waves to put them into place. Waves washed over the ship, threatening to wash the men overboard. Their yellow rain gear wouldn't help to find them in such a storm, if they did go over the side. Of course they wouldn't live long in the freezing waters 300 miles off the costs of Newfoundland.
 Below decks a cute little brunette in rain gear sat with one hand on each side of the tiny toilet, as she tried to pee without getting the dangerous chemicals splashed into her pussy. She didn't need toxic shock now, not when all hands were needed on deck. But nature called, even in a massive storm.
 Pee gushed from the tiny pussy into the blue liquid sloshing below. On some women a pussy was simply a huge ugly gash between their legs. But on Mandy, it was a tiny, intricately-carved treasure of great beauty. A perfect replica of a 12 year old girl, only larger. In addition to being tiny, her pussy had small delicate lips, a perfectly-rounded mound, and it was surrounded by clear, unblemished skin. It was neat and clean, or as sailors were fond of saying, it was eating material.
 At the moment, it was just something that Mandy peed with. She wiped her small, sparsely haired pussy on a wad of toilet paper, then stood and began pulling on clothing. She wiggled into her wet panties, grabbed her wet trousers and pulled with all her might, while squirming and wiggling like a snake. It seemed that every particle of wet clothing wanted to stick to her slender white legs. Her yellow rain trousers were last. These slid on easily. Snapping the suspenders, she pulled on the ugly hat and ran up the ladder while snapping the strap beneath her chin.
 Mandy Baker started to spring out on deck, but the First Mate grabbed her arm and slammed her back against the bulkhead.
 "Where do you think you're going?"
 "Out there to help."
 "No you're not. I'm not coming back with the only woman onboard dead or lost at sea. Back down below."
 Mandy knew he had a crush on her. Most of the crew did. She couldn't help it if men found her attractive. She didn't join the crew to flirt, she simply wanted to work like the rest of them. And long line fishing was the easiest way to make a lot of money fast.
 "Fuck you," she said, pushing past him. She immediately regretted her perseverance. A wave hit her full in the face, smashing her head into the cabin. Her ears rang and white lights flickered in her eyes. Slowly her vision cleared. She found herself in the firm grip of the First Mate.
 "Th... thanks," she said reluctantly.
 "You're welcome. Now get back to work, break's over," he said, pushing her into the melee.
 "You are such an asshole," she screamed as she ran to help with the hatch covers. She heard a hammer banging away. The ship was old, made of wood. Nailing was the only way to guarantee that the covers stayed sealed. She ran forward and plopped her rounded ass down on a cover. She felt the vibration of the hammer striking the hatch through her ass and pussy. It was quite a thrill.
 She saw the next wave curling over the ship. She yelled a warning, then grabbed the edge of the hatch cover. The wave tried to tear her free, but she held on. The water cleared and she saw the other three seamen running for cover. She shot to her feet and ran for the cabin. She had a brief glimpse of the Captain, up on the bridge staring down at her. He looked frightened. But there was so much wind and rain in her face, it was hard to see anything. She could be mistaken. Only the wildly flickering lightning, lit the deck so she could find her way.
 The First Mate met Mandy at the hatch. "Bilge pump can't keep up with the water. We need a bailing party right now," he yelled, pointing below.
 "Are we sinking?" she screamed to be heard against the wind. It was easier for a man's voice to be heard over the wind, than a woman's.
 "Don't sugar coat it on my account," she murmured as she ran down the ladder. Buckets were being passed out. Her descent was stopped by a five gallon bucket, half full of water, being shoved against her chest. She started to hurry up the stairs, but found the First Mate waiting with his hands out. She passed the bucket on to him and turned to receive the next. The first bucket went flying past her face, down to Peter, who was dipping. He started to complain at being splashed, but stopped at the First Mate's dark scowl. Mandy handed the next bucket up the stairs. In a moment it barely missed her face, on the way back down. She glared and the First Mate signaled that she should stand back on the right side of the stairs. In a few more minutes the bailing party was running smoothly. But it wasn't enough. The water came in around hatches, the gangway near the front of the ship, and the matching hatch and gangway beneath the bridge. They were losing the battle.
 "Isn't there some kind of emergency pump?" Mandy screamed.