After a while she said, “But maybe Momo won't turn up.”
“So what?” another voice broke in. It belonged to a rather ragged and neglected-looking boy.
Even if she doesn't, we can still play a game.“All right, but what?” “I don't know. Something or other.”
“Something or other's no good. Anyone got an idea?” “I know,” said a fat boy with a high-pitched voice.
Let's pretend the amphitheater's a ship, and we sail off across uncharted seas and have adventures.
I'll be the captain, you can be first mate, and you can be a professor - a scientist, because it's a scientific expedition.
The rest of you can be sailors.“What about us girls?” came a plaintive chorus.
“What'll we be?” “Girl sailors. It's a ship of the future.” The fat boy's idea sounded promising.
They tried it out, but everyone started squabbling and the game never got under way.
Before long they were all sitting around on the steps again, waiting. Then Momo turned up, and everything changed.
The Argo's bow rose and fell, rose and fell, as she swiftly but steadily steamed through the swell towards the South Coral Sea.
No ship in living memory had ever dared to sail these perilous waters, which abounded with shoals, reefs and mysterious sea monsters.
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