Jaws Page #17

HOOPER:

...And it was Dartmouth Winter

weekend, and she was Homecoming Queen,

and I was her date; then she got

into the fact that her family had

more money than my family, and she

was right -- her great-grandfather

was in mining, and my ancestors were

Yankee shipbuilders. So we broke up

and I went home with some beatnik

from Sarah Lawrence.

BRODY:

What stinks so bad?

HOOPER:

Our friend, the shark.

They bend over the shape like 18th century graverobbers.

HOOPER:

We always had a summer place on the

water -- Newport, the Vineyard, so I

figured I'd major in something I

knew about. Oceanography, marine

biology. It was that, or design racing

yachts like my older brother. Hmmm.

He we go. Up the old alimentary canal.

Hold the light.

We hear a slurp and a squish as Hooper produces a big knife

and dips into the shark with a major incision.

HOOPER:

We open the abdominal cavity and

check the digestive tract. Simple.

(he attends to his

work)

From his vantage point, Quint watches, unseen by the two

men.

Brody is holding the light, fighting the gag reflex,

fascinated by the bizarre ritual.

BRODY:

What's that?

HOOPER:

Half a flounder. Hmmm... a burlap

bag... a paint can... aha!

BRODY:

What? What?!

HOOPER:

Just as I thought. He drifted up

here with the Gulf Stream, from

southern waters.

BRODY:

How can you tell?

HOOPER:

(showing it)

Florida license plate.

BRODY:

He ate a car?

HOOPER:

(laughs)

No, but Tiger sharks are the garbage

cans of the ocean. They eat anything.

But this one didn't eat any people.

There's nothing here...

He kicks the remains around below camera.

HOOPER:

...Nothing.

BRODY:

What do we do?

HOOPER:

If you're looking for a shark, you

don't look on land. You go out and

chum for him.

BRODY:

Chum?

HOOPER:

Only one sure way to find him --

offer him a little something to eat.

Chum -- blood, waste meat, fish,

anything. They can sense it miles

away. If he's out there, we might be

able to get a closer look at him.

(checks his watch)

It's a good time, too. They're night

feeders...

EXT. ABOARD HOOPER'S BOAT - NIGHT (TANK)

We see Brody, looking sick and nervous, holding on anxiously

as the "Fascinatin' Rhythm" moves slowly ahead trolling at

night. His glasses are already flecked with the white salt

of dried seawater. He is wearing a life-preserver.

Hooper is at the wheel, a chart spread in front of him, his

eyes scanning the sea restlessly, checking the dials and

gauges in front of him as well as the electronic depth-finding

and "fish-finder" gear mounted in the cockpit. A green glow

shines from the instruments on his face. Two closed-circuit

TV cameras mounted below the hull flash their pictures onto

monitors in the dash.

In the aisle between the seats is a large container filled

with unpleasant-looking bait; Hooper is long-lining for signs

of shark, and chumming.

HOOPER:

(indicating distant

flashing beacon)

That's the Cape Light -- we're on

the stretch where he's feeding, if

he's still here.

Brody, bored, tired, and slightly queasy, is trying to

concentrate on anything but the motion of the boat. He stares

at the sophisticated electronics displays.

BRODY:

What is all this stuff?

HOOPER:

(ticking them off)

Depth-finder, fathometer, sonar,

closed-circuit TV -- fore and aft --

RDF, single side band...

(points to themselves)

And two loose nuts behind the wheel.

BRODY:

Can you tell from that if a big man-

eater is around?

HOOPER:

Sometimes.

(indicates display)

Look here -- something big, probably

a school of mackerel clumped together.

And staying right with us.

INSERT - ELECTRONICS SCREEN

It's blipping and peeping.

CLOSE ON THE TWO MEN

BRODY:

Where'd you get all this?

HOOPER:

I Bought it. Both sets of

grandparents set up trust funds for

me; stocks went up, so I don't have

to touch my principal.

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