Premature

So there's this gigantic iceberg sticking through the hull. The ocean is pouring in like there's no tomorrow, which is very likely true. We decide to put aside such questions as "How did this happen?" and "Wasn't this thing supposed to be unsinkable?" and concentrate on fixing the immediate problem. And that is a job for First Mate Mitch.

"First Mate Mitch! First Mate Mitch!" we cry. "Help us! The ship is sinking! We either need to repair the breach or get the heck out of here! Get the crew to deploy the lifeboats!"

First Mate Mitch holds up his hands in a benedictory attitude. "Now, hold your horses" he says calmly. "Rushing for the lifeboats would be premature."

"B-b-but ... humongous iceberg! G-g-great b-big hole in hull!"

"The captain and I both want a solution to this," drones First Mate Mitch. "But the crew's just gone off duty. I can't ask them to come back to work so soon."

"B-b-but ... water gushing in! N-n-now!"

"Look," says First Mate Mitch, "if we start jumping into lifeboats now, we're just going to have people trying to save their asses at the expense of a reasoned solution."

"S-s-sinking ... G-g-going down!"

"We're going to consider more berg-resistant building materials," continues First Mate Mitch. "Different travel routes that avoid iceberg-infested waters. Mental health measures. Getting our own icebergs for self-defense ... In the meantime, thinking and praying ought to hold you."

Blurp.