Mutiny on the Bounty Page #3

and defying authority.

Tell me, sir.

What is it that makes this man go aloft?

I think, depending on the man, sir,

any number of things.

You can put it in one word. Fear.

Fear of what you'll do to him.

Fear of punishment so vivid in his mind

that he fears it even more

than sudden death.

Now don't mistake me.

I'm not advising cruelty or brutality

with no purpose.

My point is that cruelty with purpose

is not cruelty.

It's efficiency.

But a man will never disobey you

once he's watched

his mate's backbone laid bare.

He'll remember

those white ribs staring at him,

he'll see the flesh jump

and hear the whistle of the whip

for the rest of his life.

Well, perhaps you're right, sir.

I'd be careful of that cheese

if I were you, sir.

It has a peculiar smell.

I think it's a bit tainted.

But then, of course,

it's a question of individual taste.

It's damn good port.

In the following weeks,

Captain Bligh worked the ship

for every furlong of gain it could give.

Every inch of canvas spread,

and God help the helmsman

if the wake were not arrow-straight.

Captain Bligh must've asked me

the same question a score of times.

"What day saw the beginning

of the breadfruit's dormant period?"

I told him repeatedly,

I could not name the exact date

for lack of knowing it.

It became clear he'd begun to worry

lest we arrive too late.

He studied his charts hour on hour,

I could not imagine why.

I'd been told there was only one way

to get to the other side of the world.

The long way,

around the Cape of Good Hope

at the bottom of Africa.

That was the course with favoring winds.

As for the other route,

the westward passage around the Horn,

while arithmetic said "yes" to that,

weather said "no."

May I share your merriment?

Just a pleasantry, sir. It was nothing.

Mayn't I be included?

Well, it was just the way

you were walking, sir.

It reminded me of a mutual friend,

Lord Folkestone.

- Do continue.

- Well, that's all, sir.

What was the resemblance?

Well, you just both have

this distinctive walk, sir.

Really? In what way distinctive?

Well, he was kicked by a horse, sir.

I'd rather not say where, sir.

It had the effect

of making him walk most oddly.

Poor fellow.

I see.

You may make yourself comfortable

at the masthead, Mr. Young.

Please remain there until I summon you.

Aye, sir.

Don't repeat that mistake, Mr. Christian.

I'm not a figure of fun.

Indeed, you're not, sir.

- Make the course south southwest, please.

- Aye, aye, sir.

Bos'n's mate!

- Did you say south southwest, sir?

- I did.

- Lee braces!

- Lee braces it is, sir!

- Down helm.

- Down helm, sir!

- Hold her steady south southwest.

- South southwest, sir.

- Take away those weather sheets!

- Aye, aye, sir.

Going around the Horn

will take five months off our journey.

Well, we shall have ourselves

quite a little adventure.

What amuses you now?

I was just thinking, sir,

that our little errand for groceries

might wind up in a page of naval history.

If we succeed in negotiating the Horn

in the dead of winter.

Why shouldn't we succeed?

Admiral Anderson did.

Yes, but of course he didn't choose

to attempt it in a 91-foot chamber pot.

In any event,

his was the only ship to do it,

and I believe

he lost 50 percent of his crew.

You might point that out to the crew.

It should improve their performance.

Remember, fear is our best weapon.

Good night, sir.

- When should I recall Mr. Young, sir?

- When I come on deck in the morning.

I want to see how comically he walks.

Poor fellow.

But, perhaps, in the morning, sir,

he won't be able to walk at all.

Perhaps.

Good night, sir.

Good fellow.

Begging your pardon, sir.

Are we really making for the Horn?

Yes, evidently.

May Heaven protect us.

I was in Admiral Anderson's ship, sir.

Were you, really?

Did you find it interesting?

Interesting, sir?

It was like riding a cork

over a waterfall, sir.

And wind is not the name

for what blows in your face.

It's something made of iron,

swings at you from the west,

never changing, day in and day out.

With seas as high as the mainmast.

We had lifelines rigged everywhere, sir,

and there were still 16 men

washed overboard.

Cold?

Three men froze in the yards.

Frozen stiff, sir.

Couldn't get them down without cutting

their fingers loose from the shrouds.

I was lucky.

Well, that's the Horn for you, sir.

A delightful passage.

Good morning, sir.

And good morning to you, Ned.

Did you sleep well?

- My hands, I can't move them at all.

- Steady.

Easy, Ned.

- There's no feeling in them, Fletcher.

- Easy, Ned. Easy, Ned.

None at all.

Can't you understand? Absolute...

You're being undignified.

Yes, of course. I'm sorry.

Come along.

I don't think I can walk very well, Fletcher.

Well, don't be self-conscious.

We shall probably

all walk like Lord Folkestone

before this voyage is over.

There you are.

Very good, Ned. Very good.

She's straining badly, sir.

Yes, I'll have the t'gallants off of her,

Mr. Morrison.

Watch on deck, t'gallants fore line!

Bos'n's mate, call all hands!

All hands on deck!

Step lively, now. Come on.

Jump to it!

Try again...

Come on, let's get on with it!

We don't want be here if this stick breaks!

I think that's better, sir.

I have seen this storm.

Afraid of a little weather, Mr. Christian?

Set the t'gallants again.

But, you see, sir,

the masts are straining, sir.

- You arguing with me?

- By no means, sir.

I was simply answering your question.

- Mr. Morrison, set the t'gallants again!

- Aye, sir!

All right, you men.

Up aloft and set the t'gallants again.

Any excuse to retard our progress, eh,

Mr. Christian?

But you wrong me, sir,

if you believe that

I would willfully obstruct our progress.

Come now, why don't you admit

you wouldn't lift a finger to speed it?

But that's absurd, sir.

Why should I not wish to do my best?

Because you are

the sort of self-styled gentleman

who thinks only one thought.

You feel only one emotion, contempt.

Contempt for effort, for ambition,

for anyone born

less fortunate than yourself.

You are poisoned with contempt,

Mr. Christian,

and it makes you useless to me.

But I assure you, sir,

that the execution of my duties

is entirely unaffected

by my private opinion of you.

Be certain of that, Mr. Christian.

Be most entirely certain.

Land ho!

Land ho!

Prepare the ship for heavy weather,

if you please.

Aye, aye, sir.

Bos'n, prepare the ship for heavy weather!

Aye, aye, sir!

Ahoy, below!

Breakers dead ahead!

They ain't no breakers. They're combers.

Two oceans meeting head on.

Lend a hand, Norman.

Captain's orders to wear ship,

Mr. Christian!

- Do so!

- Aye, aye, sir!

All hands on deck! Come on!

Come on, come on. All hands lay aloft!

We've only just come below.

Listen here, what's he think he's doing?

Come on, come on!

The forward storeroom, sir!

A barrel has broken loose.

- Take over, Mr. Fryer!

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