Jaws Page #12

ANOTHER DOCK AREA, CLOSE BY

A particularly awkward moment between a small sailboat and a

couple of powerboats. The sailboat is trying to hoist sail

to make it away from the pier under sail, a real yachtsman's

conceit, since Hornblower himself probably couldn't navigate

through this mess. Brody, a landlubber for sure, is trying

to direct traffic to untangle this new mess.

BRODY:

Just back up! No, the other way! Cut

it to your left! Your other left!

The big boat, your front end is out

way too far. Little boat, stay still!

Amidst all this, we can hear the angry shouts of the entangled

crews.

SKIPPER 1 (THE SAILBOAT)

Dammit, a vessel under sail has the

right of way!

SKIPPER 2 (MOTORBOAT)

You schmuck, you ain't under sail,

you're goddam drifting!

HOOPER:

(stepping in to help)

Ahoy, sail! You got an oar? Well,

scull it out!

SAILBOAT SKIPPER

Tell that stinkpotter to belay!

MOTORBOAT SKIPPER

Tell that ragsetter I'm going to

poke him in the snoot!

HOOPER:

Just cast off in turn and make for

the channel, OK?

BRODY:

Thanks.

Brody starts back towards the shore, Hooper is by his side.

HOOPER:

Excuse me, I wonder if you could

tell me...

Before he can finish, Brody spots something on shore that

moves him to shout to his deputy.

HOOPER:

(noticing something)

Is that dynamite?

Brody looks, and stops by a boat that's about to cast off.

He holds out his hand.

BRODY:

If that's dynamite, give it here, or

don't leave port.

MAN:

Aw, c'mon, it's just fireworks. Sharks

like fireworks, it attracts them.

BRODY:

Hand it over.

The man passes Brody a cigar box filled with dynamite sticks.

Brody tucks the dynamite under his arm, and continues down

the pier. Hooper is still with him.

All around them are two distinctly different breeds; the

quiet pros, like Ben Gardner, in well-worn, comfortable

clothes, with efficient, sensible gear, and the amateur

crazies, with all manner of weapons and impractical, silly

tourist clothing.

INT. DOCK SHED - DAY

Brody is on the phone, talking to his office, trying to get

Hendricks' attention. He throws a handful of washers at the

window.

HOOPER:

There's a fantail launch out there

that won't make it beyond the

breakwater.

BRODY:

You're tellin' me. I swear, this

town has gone crazy.

HOOPER:

Officer, I wonder if you could tell

me where I could find Chief Brody?

BRODY:

Who are you?

HOOPER:

Hooper, Matt Hooper. From the

Oceanographic Institute.

(holds out his hand)

EXTERIOR - OCEAN - DAY

Ben Gardner's boat is in the lead with Gardner's shouting

derisive comments at the crowd headed out from land. The

armada is spread out and moving in a ragged circle, fifteen

boats in all. One man heaves cherry bombs into the water. A

smaller boat going in the opposite direction offers us

Barwood, forking spaghetti leftovers into the ocean while

his friend pours out a bottle of ketchup.

A speedboat chugs by, one of the occupants reading

instructions aloud from a book entitled "Sharks - East Coast,

Vol. I."

boatload of impoverished scallop fishermen throw a net

overboard, full of gaps and split ends. The professionals

look professional, but the landlubbers out for the $3000

make it impossible for everybody. Collisions are barely

averted.

THE RUBE GOLDBERG ERROR

The Out-of-Towner in a small boat is bent over in a life and

death struggle, his rod in a tight arc. His buddy leaps across

to lend a hand.

Twenty yards away in another boat the same struggle ensues.

This time it's the overloaded boat with the poor scallop

fishermen. Shouts of I'M ON! DIG IN! STRIKE! Then a tangle

of tackle springs from the water. They have hooked each other.

Joy turns to swearing. Arnold Felix stands up to applaud

the mishap, while his buddy Pratt takes careful aim with his

Remington 1100 12-gauge and blasts at the tackle as if it

were a clay pigeon. The tangle explodes --

Both the Out-of-Towners and the Scallop Fisherman falls over

backward --

ANGLE - HARRY'S BOAT

Three men are aboard, one holding a rod which holds a fast

arc. A few yards off stern we see a triangular dorsal fin

crossing back and forth, struggling, jerking, the mighty

tail threshing. One man is screaming success, the other two

slapping the angler on the back.

CLOSE - PRATT AND FELIX

They spot it and sour.

PRATT:

Well, get over there! He ain't caught

it yet!

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