The Perfect Storm Page #4

Slim to none. Where are you?

Tail of the Banks.

Kicking up something wicked here.

Made a couple of sets.

You doing any good?

Nine, first set. Twelve...

No, make that a baker's dozen, second.

Got a couple of markers to boot.

Your hand is so hot,

I can feel the heat from here.

-I've asked you to team up.

-I don't like partners.

Business-wise, that is.

Okay, okay. What's your position?

You headed for the Flemish Cap?

The lady knows her coordinates.

Yeah, I'm steaming full-bore.

The Flemish Cap is

nearly off the charts.

What are you trying to prove?

We got gale-force coming out

of Bermuda, stuff out of Sable Island.

As for me, I'm staring here

at solid white chop.

This could be a triple-header.

You're behind me.

So is your weather.

Yeah, but you've gotta go

through it to get back.

Good point.

Billy, you won't like this,

but I'm gonna say it anyway:

You be careful.

Yes, Mother.

Why don't we pick this up later?

I'm out.

-You guys use some company?

-Sure.

-Coffee?

-Yeah, thanks.

...in the mid-Atlantic,

moving rapidly northeast...

...30-foot waves.

What'd you hear?

They're out on the Flemish Cap.

I got it straight from big Bob Brown.

Yeah.

The Flemish Cap.

I went there, '62.

Lots of fish.

And lots of weather.

Hurricanes...

...squalls, huge seas.

You're full of sh*t, Quentin.

That's right.

I am.

-Where are you going?

-To point this boat up into the storm.

And scream for help!

We lie ahull, beam to the waves,

slip sideways. Standard procedure.

Forget it, we won't make it!

Missy, get on the radio now!

-We can make it.

-Mayday!

It's sopping wet!

She'll be weeping in the wind. No!

We stay below and ride this thing out.

Remember, this is my boat!

This is my life!

Go, Melissa!

Mayday!

Mayday! Mayday!

We're a 32-foot

sailing vessel, Mistral.

Our position is...

...39.49 north...

Mayday! Mayday!

Over.

Hey, cap!

Ice machine's had it.

It's dead.

-Check the evaporator?

-Yeah.

-Freon?

-Plenty, but nowhere to flow.

Use some spit and glue.

I did. She's fried, skip.

I told Brown, get us a new one...

...but he gets another overhaul,

son of a b*tch!

Sorry.

The ice machine's gone.

Oh, f***.

All right,

we got good ice on them now.

We seal the fish hold.

With luck, we'll deliver

the catch and set the market.

Pull up the gear.

We're going home.

Put these babies on ice,

and we're out of here!

We are taking heavy waves.

Damage on deck.

Need immediate assistance.

We're beam to the sea

and taking on water.

Just so you understand

what we're up against.

We're looking at 40 to 50-foot waves,

gale-force winds. A real bad one.

Right in our path.

The Weather Service

is jerking off again.

No.

You're afraid?

I never seen you scared.

It's pretty rough stuff out there,

that's for sure.

We either hang out here

for a few days till it calms down...

But, cap...

...we got 60,000 pounds of fish here.

Are we gonna let it spoil?

I thought we were gonna

set the market, make a killing.

Or we say the hell with it.

We drive right through it.

You said we're Gloucestermen.

What do you say, guys?

Are we or aren't we?

Did we come out here for nothing?

-It's a lot of money.

-Let's make some money.

Come on. Let's hear it, Gloucester!

Let's get her lashed down.

Bugs, put the birds in the water.

Birds in. Got it, skip.

Look. Look at this.

We got Hurricane Grace moving north

off the Atlantic seaboard.

Huge...

...getting massive.

Two, this low south of Sable Island,

ready to explode.

Look at this.

Three, a fresh cold front

swooping down from Canada.

But it's caught a ride

on the jet stream...

...and is motoring hell-bent

towards the Atlantic.

Cool.

Wait, wait.

What if Hurricane Grace

runs smack into it?

Add to the scenario this baby off

Sable Island, scrounging for energy.

She'll start feeding off

both the Canadian cold front...

...and Hurricane Grace.

You could be a meteorologist

all your life...

...and never see something like this.

It would be a disaster

of epic proportions.

It would be...

...the perfect storm.

Let's get down below.

Bobby?

I want you up here with me.

Mayday! Mayday!

Sailing vessel Mistral,

this is Coast Guard rescue.

Sandy!

Edie, they heard me!

They're coming!

Air Force rescue 2-3- 1.

We've located the Mistral.

Position:
39.49 north...

...69.52 west.

How far's that last position?

About 20.3 miles, captain.

OD, boatswain on the bridge.

Tallyho, there they are.

-Okay, guys, showtime.

-You got it.

Mistral, this is 2-3-1 .

We're gonna extract you

one at a time from the deck.

Hey, Jeremy, I don't like this.

-Clock's ticking.

-Come on, we better get them off now.

Get closer, Darryl.

Just a little closer.

Okay, deploying the basket.

Close to 2:
00.

Let's come right to 5.

-Four. Three.

-Son of a b*tch.

Stop there. Hold your hover.

Goddamn it!

Keep it steady, keep it steady.

Sh*t!

Man out!

-Shear the cable!

-No, I got it!

Sh*t.

Bring up the basket!

Sandy!

Hold on!

I got you!

-Basket's in.

-Looks like I'm going for a swim.

Okay, go get them.

Mitchell off intercom.

It's time to get wet.

We're gonna be all right.

Go.

Altitude.

Altitude. Get her up, get her up!

He's in the water.

I'm going after him!

No, no, wait! Stand by!

Jonesy, hold on.

There! He's okay.

This isn't working.

They'll have to get in the water.

Come on, come on!

You're having a blast, huh?

-Want a turn?

-No, just watch. I want to watch.

I'm studying up for the day

I get my own boat.

Your own boat, huh?

Want to give me a hand?

Grab the throttle.

Hang on.

-Ah, sh*t!

-Seven K, six easy.

-Eight minimum.

-Ten.

You know, I'm gonna get me

a new used Ford F-1 50...

...take a ride to Digby with Irene.

Going to get drunk, eat like a pig

and sleep like a child!

Fish and fun-gee!

Okay, Jer, too risky to go lower.

You gotta jump from here.

Good afternoon, madam.

I'm Sergeant Jeremy Mitchell.

I'll be your para-rescue jumper today.

How are you?

Okay so far.

Keep your hands

and feet in the basket.

-Careful.

-Okay!

All right, here we go.

You're next.

That was nothing!

Come on!

Oh, my God.

It's happening.

Andrea Gail, Andrea Gail.

This is Hannah Boden.

...Billy, over.

Calling the Andrea Gail.

Andrea Gail, do you read me?

Do you read me? Come in!

Come in, for God's sake, come in!

Billy, these storms have collided!

They are exploding!

Who is it?

I don't know.

Andrea Gail, come in!

Whiskey-Yankee-Charlie 6-6-8-1, over.

Talk to me, Billy, over.

I repeat,

Whiskey-Yankee-Charlie 6-6-8-1 ...

Look at your fax, damn it!

Look at your fax!

Whiskey-Yankee-Charlie 6-6-8-1, over!

-Where are you, Billy?

-Linda?

Give me the coordinates.

-44 north, 56.4 west.

-We're 44 north...

...56.4 west, headed west.

I repeat, 44 north,

Over.

Billy, get out of there.

Come about! Let it carry you out!

What the hell are you doing?

Hang on!

Billy! Billy, for chrissake!

You're steaming into a bomb!

Turn around, for chrissake!

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