Mutiny On The Bounty Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Mutiny On The Bounty script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Charles Laughton and Clark Gable movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Mutiny On The Bounty. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Mutiny On The Bounty Script


  

  

 

                   

Eight o'clock.



 

                   

All's well. Misty weather.



 

                   

-Here ye are, me lad.

-Thank ye.



 

                   

A press gang. A press gang!



 

                   

-The press gang!

-Let's get out of here!



 

                   

ln the king's name!



 

                   

Well, we got all the fish

we need in one net.



 

                   

-Line them up, boatswain.

-Aye, aye. Line up, lads!



 

                   

Lads, bow your necks and weep.

You're in the king's navy.



  

                   

l'm no seaman, sir. l'm a tailor.



  

                   

What's that, your needlework?

No chin music.



  

                   

-What ship, sir?

-The Bounty, for the South Seas.



  

                   

-That's the end of the world.

-No, he sailed there with Captain Cook.



  

                   

He knows the brown gals

gay as kiss-me.



  

                   

-Who's the captain?

-Bligh.



  

                   

-Bligh!

-Seize him!



  

                   

How long will we be gone?



  

                   

Till there's enough frost

in hell to kill snap beans.



  

                   

How long is that, sir?

l've got to know.



  

                   

Two years, lad.



  

                   

Please, don't take my husband.



  

                   

When we had a baby,

Tommy left the sea.



  

                   

He don't want to serve in the navy.



  

                   

-lt's true, sir.

-Sorry, the king needs six men.



  

                   

You can't take him! lt's like forever!



  

                   

l can't take them and not take him.



  

                   

No, you can't take him!

l won't let you!



  

                   

-Lass, lass.

-lt's two years! No! lt's two years!



  

                   

This is England's new venture

in science, in trade, in discovery.



  

                   

Who else but Sir Austin Byam's

son should go?



  

                   

But two years.



  

                   

-l understand, my dear.

-Ship ahoy!



  

                   

Bob.



  

                   

Behold! The elder son of the sea

and heir to all its oceans.



  

                   

Uniform by Jeeves.



  

                   

lt's so new, it creaks.



  

                   

l'll come back an admiral,

with a necklace for you.



  

                   

Pearls as big as coconuts.



  

                   

l'll name a nice shiny island

after you, Sir Joseph.



  

                   

-l owe you for my appointment.

-You've been appointed for one purpose:



  

                   

To make me a dictionary

of the Tahitian language.



  

                   

l've made that clear to Captain Bligh.



  

                   

-What's he like, sir?

-Captain Bligh?



  

                   

He's a seagoing disaster.



  

                   

His hair is rope yarn.

His teeth are marlinespikes.



  

                   

Marlinespikes? Good.



  

                   

Sounds rather terrifying. But perhaps,

as your father used to say:



  

                   

"A taut hand at sea is better

than a slack one."



  

                   

You'd have made a rare sailor, ma'am.



  

                   

Why don't you stow away, Mother?



  

                   

l've considered it. Very seriously.



  

                   

Well, here's to the voyage

of the Bounty.



  

                   

To the voyage of the Bounty!



  

                   

Still waters and the great golden sea.



  

                   

Flying fish like streaks of silver

and mermaids that sing in the night.



  

                   

The Southern Cross, and all the stars

on the other side of the world.



  

                   

Bless my soul.

To the voyage of the Bounty!



  

                   

ls that the Bounty?



  

                   

No, sir. That's the flagship of the fleet.

There's your little pint-pot.



  

                   

That's the Bounty for Tahiti?



  

                   

She isn't very big, is she?



  

                   

lt ain't the size that counts, youngster.

lt's the salt in the lads that man it.



  

                   

-Where's your sweetheart, handsome?

-She married a sailor.



  

                   

lt's Ellison, sir.

He tried to break ship.



  

                   

On deck, Morrison. Churchill.



  

                   

Aye, sir.



  

                   

Break ship, would you?



  

                   

l can't face it, sir. Not two years.



  

                   

l might not come back.

Then she's left with the baby.



  

                   

Flog me, send me to jail,

but don't take me, sir!



  

                   

Don't.



  

                   

Now, listen to me, Ellison.



  

                   

The sea's hard, but you whistle it off.



  

                   

Do your spit and polish and you'll come

home with the seals following in admiration.



  

                   

l was like you when l first came to sea,

Cumberland moss all over me.



  

                   

Now it's turned to barnacles.



  

                   

That's better.



  

                   

On this voyage, if you get in trouble,

come to me. l'll see you get justice.



  

                   

But if you're wrong,

look out for squalls.



  

                   

Now, get your chin up.



  

                   

Go on deck. Say goodbye to your wife.



  

                   

-You've got her aboard, sir?

-And the baby.



  

                   

-Come on. Shake a leg.

-Thank you, sir.



  

                   

-So you're going to the South Seas, Jack?

-Aye.



  

                   

Here. Take this with you.



  

                   

You can buy your own island.

Ten shillings.



  

                   

Ten? l ain't seen the king's face

on a shilling for so long...



  

                   

...l've forgotten which George it is,

but l'll take it and pay you when l get back.



  

                   

Sailor! You're not coming back,

not in this little half-walnut.



  

                   

Here you are. Diamond brooch.



  

                   

Real gold, mister, owned by Captain Kidd.

With a map of the treasure under the works.



  

                   

Here. Stand clear with the tinware, Joe.



  

                   

You keep leeward

of the ship's gentlemen.



  

                   

All right, now. Ta-ta. Ta-ta!



  

                   

Mr. Byam? l'm Fletcher Christian,

lieutenant and master's mate.



  

                   

-You'll be my instructor.

-Yes, in navigation and trigonometry.



  

                   

You'll have a watch, keep order,

go aloft to mend canvas, reef and furl.



  

                   

Otherwise, your time is your own.



  

                   

Mr. Christian, in my hands,

the ship is safe.



   

                   

l understand.

"A little child shall lead them."



   

                   

Come along, l'll show you below.

You there, take Mr. Byam's box to his berth.



   

                   

-Ahoy, Mr. Christian!

-Ahoy!



   

                   

Excuse me.



   

                   

Good morning, sir.



   

                   

Nothing lost, Mr. Christian.



   

                   

Think l've got enough

for a two years' voyage?



   

                   

-You know your draft better than l do.

-My lad, nobody can estimate my draft...



   

                   

...least of all myself.



   

                   

-Easy, easy.

-What makes her roll so?



   

                   

Here's a navy for you.



   

                   

Rum in the skimmers today

and blood in the scuppers tomorrow.



   

                   

This is our ship's surgeon.

We call him Mr. Bacchus.



   

                   

-He's never told us his real name.

-l've forgotten it.



   

                   

Pleased to meet you.



   

                   

Mr. Byam, l should never

have gone ashore.



   

                   

England's only an island,

and all islands are alike.



   

                   

l'm going below. Bear a hand.



   

                   

Easy, now. Easy.



   

                   

Oh, Tommy, l'm afeard.

This ship's unlucky.



   

                   

They've changed the name.



   

                   

Well, l changed your name, didn't l?

Was that unlucky?



   

                   

Oh, Tommy.



   

                   

One, two....

Three of us in here?



   

                   

My dog at home has a bigger

kennel all to himself.



   

                   

l can see we shall be as friendly

as tomcats in a sack.



   

                   

Mr. Stewart? Mr. Byam.



   

                   

Drop in anytime, Byam.

l'll be just     inches away from you.



   

                   

-A pleasure, Mr. Stewart.

-l hope you'll like the ship.



   

                   

-l'd like any ship, Mr. Stewart.

-Johnny Newcomer.



   

                   

Oh, yes, Mr. Byam,

the amiable Mr. Hayward.



   

                   

-How do you do?

-Mr. Hayward has been two years at sea.



   

                   

And a man who's been two years at sea

should know how to lash his hammock.



   

                   

Yours looks like a Frenchman's knapsack.



   

                   

All right. On deck, all of you.



   

                   

Mr. Maggs?



   

                   

This here Captain Bligh, sir.

Now, you being ship's clerk...



   

                   

...would you call him a gentle officer?



   

                   

lf l was you, l wouldn't be

calling him anything.



   

                   

Oh, no, no, no, Mr. Maggs, no.

Never call anybody anything.



   

                   

But l do hope he is gentle because l'm

his messman and l frighten so easy.



   

                   

lt runs in our family, Mr. Maggs.



   

                   

My mother was frightened by

my father before l was born...



   

                   

...and l've been frightened ever since.



   

                   

Do you know, Mr. Maggs, there's times

when l can hardly hold a glass in my hand?



   

                   

Silence. The captain's coming aboard.



   

                   

Company, atten!



   

                   

Mr. Christian, clear the decks

of this rabble.



   

                   

Very good, sir. Clear decks.

Everybody ashore. Clear decks.



   

                   

-Mr. Fryer, we sail at six bells.

-Sail at six bells.



   

                   

-We got our rights here.

-Off ship, Joe. Off ship.



   

                   

l'm not going until the ship sails.



   

                   

Hey, you can't do that!



   

                   

Flogging through the fleet.

We're included.



   

                   

Quite a compliment to

the Bounty, Sir Joseph.



   

                   

Mr. Christian, pipe the ship's company

at five bells to witness punishment.



   

                   

Would you care to see the flogging?



   

                   

No. The only discipline

l know is science.



   

                   

There's science in using a cat-o'-nine-tails.

Watch my boatswain.



   

                   

l really must be off.

l came aboard merely to introduce Roger.



   

                   

Goodbye, my boy.



   

                   

This won't be all cakes and ale, Roger...



   

                   

...but your family's followed the sea

for seven generations.



   

                   

Not one ever failed in his duty.



   

                   

ln a tight place,

that's all you'll need to remember.



   

                   

-l'll try to, sir.

-Sure you will, my boy.



   

                   

-Goodbye, Mr. Bligh.

-Goodbye, Sir Joseph.



   

                   

What does it mean, sir,

"flogging through the fleet"?



   

                   

Sentence of court-martial,

two dozen lashes at each ship.



   

                   

What was the man's crime, sir?



   

                   

Struck his captain.



   

                   

But that's over     lashes.

l don't understand why--



   

                   

Can you understand this?

Discipline's the thing.



   

                   

A seaman's a seaman, captain's a captain.

And a midshipman...



   

                   

...is the lowest form of animal life

in the British navy.



   

                   

Now you know what

a midshipman is.



   

                   

Line up!



   

                   

Port oars!



   

                   

Ship's company, off hats!



   

                   

Article   : "lf any officer, mariner

or other person in the fleet...



   

                   

...shall strike or offer to strike

any of his superiors...



   

                   

...and being convicted,

he shall suffer punishment...



   

                   

...inflicted on him by

the sentence of a court-martial."



   

                   

Ship's company, on hats!



   

                   

-Mr. Morrison, two dozen, l believe.

-Two dozen it is, sir.



   

                   

-The man is dead, sir.

-Dead?



   

                   

-Shall l dismiss the men, sir?

-What?



   

                   

Certainly not.

We'll proceed with punishment.



   

                   

Boatswain, do your duty.



   

                   

Come along with you. Do your duty!



   

                   

Bloody murderer.



   

                   

Mr. Byam!



   

                   

-Punishment counted out, sir.

-Mr. Morrison, come aboard.



   

                   

-Mr. Fryer, make ready to sail.

-Starboard watch, secure for sea.



   

                   

Starboard watch, shorten and cable!



   

                   

Stand by to go aloft!



   

                   

ln captain's gig, Mr. Christian.



   

                   

Both watches, hoist!



   

                   

Hoist away!



   

                   

Way aloft!



   

                   

Winds offshore!



   

                   

You'll take the mizzenmast, Mr. Byam.



   

                   

What's the matter, afraid to go aloft?

Why, it's child's play.



   

                   

That man they flogged.



   

                   

He was dead.



   

                   

Get aloft. Bear a hand.



   

                   

Mr. Morrison, start those men.



   

                   

Tallyho!



   

                   

Child's play.



   

                   

Anchors aweigh, sir.



   

                   

Let fall!



   

                   

Down from aloft!



   

                   

Down from there! A dozen for

the coat of the last man down!



   

                   

Please, sir!



   

                   

Skipper Hayward!



   

                   

Mr. Hayward!



   

                   

-l'll take care of him.

-Keep hold!



   

                   

Hoist away!



   

                   

Set courses, royals and gallants!



   

                   

Royals and gallants!



   

                   

Starboard bridges,

aweigh with the anchors.



   

                   

-Ship ready.

-Give her lee helm.



   

                   

Lee helm, sir.



   

                   

-Steady.

-Steady, sir.



   

                   

There she goes. Her anchor's up.



   

                   

Oh, Mary, it's such a little ship.



   

                   

My Tommy will bring her home.



   

                   

Hurrah!



   

                   

Hurrah!



   

                   

Hurrah!



   

                   

Well, we're under canvas again,

Mr. Christian.



   

                   

-lt's our third voyage together.

-Not of my choosing.



   

                   

So the port admiral told me.

Well, you're here. l requested you.



   

                   

l like having a gentleman as my

subordinate, being a self-made man.



   

                   

l admire you for that, sir.



   

                   

And for very little else?



   

                   

Sailing orders?



   

                   

Tahiti direct by Cape Horn.



   

                   

Winds permitting.



   

                   

lf we can't make westing,

we shall have to go by Africa.



   

                   

Then we'll have to get

supplies at Simon's Bay.



   

                   

We'll need them. This ship has

less food than a prison hull.



   

                   

And l don't trust that clerk of yours.



   

                   

Who asked you to meddle

with my clerk?



   

                   

Can't get much from a hungry man.

l have to work these men we feed.



   

                   

Rascals and pirates.

Did you see them growl at the flogging?



   

                   

l'll teach them what flogging's like.



   

                   

My advice, sir, if you'll take it,

is not to be too harsh with them.



   

                   

We're sailing        miles together

for the next two years.



   

                   

-lt's like a powder magazine.

-l don't want your advice.



   

                   

l've my own way with seamen.

They respect one law, the law of fear...



   

                   

-...and my officers should remember that.

-l can only tell you what l think!



   

                   

They come from jails and taverns, but

they're English and they'll sail anywhere.



   

                   

l'm not interested in what you think.



   

                   

l expect you to carry out whatever

orders l give, whenever l give them.



   

                   

l'll carry out your orders, Mr. Bligh.



   

                   

Then we understand each other?



   

                   

Perfectly.



   

                   

-Any orders for the deck?

-No.



   

                   

-That all?

-Yes. You may go.



   

                   

Thank you, sir.



   

                   

-She's flying, Mr. Christian.

-Tahiti direct, sir.



   

                   

Tahiti direct, Mr. Christian.



   

                   

Pass it on: No change of

sail without my orders.



   

                   

Put two men at the wheel.

We'll carry on or carry under.



   

                   

-Southeast by east.

-Southeast by east, sir.



   

                   

No change in sails except

for captain's orders.



   

                   

Mr. Byam, you'll stand by

for midshipman's school.



   

                   

Aye, aye, sir.



   

                   

You! Hold up, there!



   

                   

Never empty your buckets into the wind!



   

                   

Find the wind, you idiot!



   

                   

Find the wind and then choose your rail.



   

                   

Get below!



   

                   

We're off around the world, boys.



   

                   

Light hearts and tight britches.

Off around the world.



   

                   

Oh, dry up, you cub.



   

                   

ls it human, or what do you think?



   

                   

l can't stand yowling water babies.



   

                   

Blast you! l told you not

to swing that lantern!



   

                   

You don't mean it makes you seasick?

An old buccaneer like you?



   

                   

l'll knock more tar out of you

than it'll take a month to mix.



   

                   

-Come on, blowhard.

-Oh, stow it, will you?



   

                   

l can't make head or tail

of this navigation.



   

                   

Don't worry. lf you get tangled,

l'll jump in and pull you out.



   

                   

-You'd better not try and fool Mr. Christian.

-Mr. Christian holds no terrors for me.



   

                   

l can wade the seven seas

and never wet my shirt.



   

                   

They have whales that can sink a ship,

but l can sink the whale.



   

                   

Behold, the face that launched

a thousand ships.



   

                   

Gentlemen.



   

                   

Today's navigating problem:



   

                   

Given the altitude of Polaris,

could you find your latitude, Mr. Stewart?



   

                   

To lead up to it...



   

                   

...ordinarily, the shortest distance

between two points is a straight line.



   

                   

But this is not true of navigation.

We must consider winds and currents--



   

                   

Yes. Suppose you considered the problem.



   

                   

Yes, sir.



   

                   

Perhaps Mr. Stewart means that it's...



   

                   

...like that lantern, sir.



   

                   

We assume it should hang straight down,

but because the ship is rolling...



   

                   

...it swings to and fro.



   

                   

But by watching it closely--



   

                   

You disagree with Byam, Mr. Hayward?



   

                   

He knows the lantern makes me seasick.

He's doing it to break up the lesson.



   

                   

-Stewart doesn't know his problem.

-Still, his original theory interests me.



   

                   

Please, sir.



   

                   

Proceed, Mr. Byam. You were saying,

by watching the lantern closely--



   

                   

What seems to be the trouble,

Mr. Stewart?



   

                   

Watch the wind, Mr. Stewart.



   

                   

lt's not there. lt's there.



   

                   

ls that the face that launched

a thousand ships?



   

                   

One navigation problem and three wrecks.



   

                   

Smart as paint, you are.



   

                   

Why, you ungrateful swab.



   

                   

After l've given my all

for the honor of the class.



   

                   

Byam!



   

                   

lt wasn't my fault.

He came behind and struck me.



   

                   

-ls that true, Mr. Byam?

-l'd rather not say, sir.



   

                   

So you want to fight?

l'll cool you off.



   

                   

Get to the masthead and stay

there until l call you down.



   

                   

-All the way, sir?

-All the way.



   

                   

-Get below or go aloft!

-Yes, sir!



   

                   

Rather heavy weather

to send him aloft, isn't it?



   

                   

They must learn this isn't a beer garden.

lf you don't teach them, l will!



   

                   

Look alive, you crawling caterpillar!



   

                   

-Where's Byam?

-l couldn't help it, Stewart.



   

                   

When the man looks at me,

l want to jump overboard.



   

                   

Where's Byam?



   

                   

-The old man sent him aloft.

-You let him take the blame, huh?



   

                   

Here, here!



   

                   

You've started enough trouble!

Time you learn discipline!



   

                   

Get into your hammock

before l put you over a gun!



   

                   

Get up!



   

                   

You see, sir? lt isn't my fault.



   

                   

They're only jealous because

l've been at sea before.



   

                   

Who did that?



   

                   

l did, sir.



   

                   

Come here.



   

                   

Good.



   

                   

How she creaks. Wind's a gale.



   

                   

l'm too old to envy young Byam aloft.



   

                   

-Splice the main-brace, Mr. Morgan.

-l'll take it to kill germs.



   

                   

What? Waste my brandy?



   

                   

Here, you use the ship's drinking water.

lt would shrivel me wooden leg.



   

                   

Did you ever hear how l lost my leg?



   

                   

-No, no, but we will.

-Well--



   

                   

-l'm worried about Byam.

-Oh, he'll weather it all right.



   

                   

Well, l left my leg with

John Paul Jones back in '  .



   

                   

We came astern with a Yankee.



   

                   

Up went our colors and our captain hails,

"What ship is that?"



   

                   

"American ship Ranger," roars Jones,

and up go his colors.



   

                   

"Louder, you Yankee pip-squeak,"

our captain yells.



   

                   

"l can't hear you!"



   

                   

"Can you hear this?" says Jones,

and he lets go a broadside.



   

                   

Thundering guns.



   

                   

You all right?



   

                   

-Nothing lost, Mr. Christian.

-Look after him, Mr. Morgan.



   

                   

Keep her head up!



   

                   

Starboard!



   

                   

Get him below, to the surgeon!



   

                   

Mr. Christian!



   

                   

-Who brought that man down?

-l did, sir!



   

                   

But l sent him aloft!



   

                   

He's gone under. The top's no place.



   

                   

l know his place. Time you knew yours.



   

                   

Maintain discipline, not break it!

Send him aloft again!



   

                   

Mr. Bligh, he's had enough!



   

                   

Send him aloft again!



   

                   

That's right, lad. Drink another.

You'll be as right as a truism.



   

                   

lf you'd lost a leg, now....



   

                   

l lost mine in action against

the French, off Jamaica.



   

                   

A French surgeon did the trick for me.



   

                   

He apologized in French,

and l cursed him in English.



   

                   

-How is he?

-l'm all right, sir.



   

                   

He'll go anywhere.



   

                   

Get to the masthead again, Byam.



   

                   

-l've taken my punishment, sir.

-Get to the masthead!



   

                   

l've had a bellyful of that masthead

from Captain Bligh!



   

                   

You can't make me go

back up there again!



   

                   

lt was Mr. Christian

brought you down, lad.



   

                   

Thank you, sir.



   

                   

l didn't understand. Captain's orders.



   

                   

-You mind?

-No. Let him have it.



   

                   

Here, you'll need this.



   

                   

Here's something else you'll need.

You're a plucky youngster.



   

                   

lf necessary, l'd be happy

to cut off your leg anytime.



   

                   

Thank you, sir.



   

                   

-lf anything happens to that lad, Bligh will--

-Christian!



   

                   

Christian, careful!



   

                   

Ship's company, off hats.



   

                   

O, eternal god, who alone

spreadest out the heavens...



   

                   

...and rulest the raging sea, who has

compassed the waters with bounds...



   

                   

...until night and day come to an end...



   

                   

...receive into thy almighty

and most gracious protection...



   

                   

...the persons of us, thy servants

and the fleet in which we serve.



   

                   

Preserve us from the dangers of the sea

that we may be a safeguard...



   

                   

...unto our gracious lord

King George and his kingdoms...



   

                   

...and a security for such as pass

on the seas upon their lawful occasions...



   

                   

...and that we may return in safety

to enjoy the blessings of the land...



   

                   

...with a remembrance of thy mercies

to praise and glorify thy holy name...



   

                   

...through Jesus Christ our lord, amen.



   

                   

-Amen.

-Ship's company, on hats.



   

                   

The ship's company

will bear in mind...



   

                   

...we are at sea under the articles of war.



   

                   

Perhaps you are unaware

that the articles of war invest in me...



   

                   

...the authority to order punishment.



   

                   

During the recent heavy weather,

l've watched you at work on deck and aloft.



   

                   

You don't know wood from canvas,

and it seems that you don't want to learn.



   

                   

Well, l'll have to give you a lesson.

You, you, you, step forward.



   

                   

You three are

a disgrace to saltwater!



   

                   

Ten days on half rations.

What's your name?



   

                   

-Thomas Burkitt, sir.

-He's a thief, sir. Dartmoor Prison.



   

                   

-A thief.

-Convicted. Offered a choice:



   

                   

-Dartmoor Prison or the king's navy.

-You've been to Dartmoor Prison, Burkitt?



   

                   

-Yes, sir.

-lt seems you prefer the navy.



   

                   

You may regret that choice

before this voyage is over. Your name?



   

                   

Thomas Ellison, sir. Pressed into service.

l've got a wife, a baby.



   

                   

l asked your name, not the history

of your misfortunes. Your name?



   

                   

-Smith.

-Not you, you idiot! You.



   

                   

-William Muspratt, sir.

-Have you got a wife, Muspratt?



   

                   

Have you got a wife?



   

                   

Two, sir.



   

                   

The ship's company will remember that l am

your captain, your judge and your jury.



   

                   

You do your duty

and we may get along...



   

                   

...but whatever happens,

you'll do your duty. Go forward.



   

                   

Lively, lads.



   

                   

Thief. Nobody calls me a thief

but the men l steals from.



   

                   

Half rations.



   

                   

You there!



   

                   

Who did that?



   

                   

l can't tell you, sir.



   

                   

-Mr. Morrison.

-Aye, sir.



   

                   

Report that man for two dozen lashes.



   

                   

l done it, sir.



   

                   

Pick it up.



   

                   

Put it back.



   

                   

-Mr. Morrison, lay on with a will.

-Aye, aye, sir.



   

                   

Bligh, these men aren't

king-and-country volunteers.



   

                   

They've been brought aboard

by press gangs.



   

                   

ln a week, l'll get some spirit

without flogging.



   

                   

Teach them who's master

and never let them forget.



   

                   

-Mr. Morrison!

-Aye.



   

                   

Before we see port, l'll make them

jump at a midshipman's jacket...



   

                   

...even if it's hung on a broomstick to dry.



   

                   

Give this man his two dozen. When l ask

for information, l expect to get it.



   

                   

-l didn't hear the watch call, sir.

-Why not?



   

                   

-Sorry, l was cleaning brass for Mr. Byam.

-That's true, sir.



   

                   

Stretch this man over a gun

and give him two dozen lashes.



   

                   

-But l was responsible, sir.

-Byam will be in charge of the punishment.



   

                   

Two dozen. That's enough, Mr. Morrison.



   

                   

-Man overboard!

-Bring a line!



   

                   

ldiot. l'll have to teach

my top men not to fall off the ship.



   

                   

Mr. Morrison! When you get him onboard,

stretch him with a rail to dry him off.



   

                   

l can't stand it. l got to get water.



   

                   

Get back to your work.



   

                   

l wanted water for my knees, sir.

l can't stand it. Please, sir.



   

                   

-What is it?

-This man left his work, sir. Wants water.



   

                   

Look, sir, it's the sand

worked in cruel.



   

                   

-l wanted water to wash it.

-l'll give you water.



   

                   

Mr. Morrison, keelhaul this man.



   

                   

Haul away!



   

                   

-Well?

-The man is dead, Mr. Bligh.



   

                   

Mr. Bligh, l've seen calms and doldrums,

but not one like this in    years.



   

                   

-The men in the boats are worn-out.

-Not the way they're pulling.



   

                   

-Put new men into the boats.

-Mr. Morrison, pipe the men. Change crews.



   

                   

Dive in with your mess, lads.

The boats are alongside.



   

                   

Mr. Byam, look at this bit

of meat, sir. lt's alive.



   

                   

l'm sorry, lad.

There's nothing l can do about it.



   

                   

This bit of meat was

mined in a rock quarry.



   

                   

-Here, l'll change with you, lad.

-Thanks.



   

                   

lt's alive, all right...



   

                   

...but they're fresh meat anyway.



   

                   

Mr. Byam, l'm reporting

these two men unfit for duty.



   

                   

-Very good. You men are relieved.

-What's the delay here?



   

                   

You realize we're waiting

for these men to pull us into a wind?



   

                   

The men haven't finished mess,

and these two are unfit for duty.



   

                   

-Unfit?!

-My orders, sir.



   

                   

lf they can walk, they can work.



   

                   

Put them in the boats and get

these other men out immediately.



   

                   

Any sign of a breeze, sir?



   

                   

l'm about at the end of my rope.



   

                   

Keep up your stroke, man.

l'll whistle a wind up for you.



   

                   

Can't we...?



   

                   

-Can't we rest a spell, sir?

-No, and keep your hatch closed.



   

                   

This is the cask with

only one cheese in, sir.



   

                   

-What's this? What's this?

-Two cheeses are gone.



   

                   

-What?

-Two   -pound cheeses missing.



   

                   

-Stolen, of course, sir.

-Thieves and jailbirds!



   

                   

-What?

-A hundred pounds of cheese gone.



   

                   

They'd steal canvas off a corpse.



   

                   

-Strange. l checked the stores myself.

-Cheeses can't fly, fool!



   

                   

They've been stolen, of course.



   

                   

Stop allowance of cheese

until the theft is made up.



   

                   

Begging your pardon, sir.

Back in Portsmouth...



   

                   

...that cask was opened by you, and

Mr. Maggs had the cheeses carried ashore.



   

                   

-Silence!

-Perhaps you'll recollect, sir.



   

                   

-Maggs had me take them to your house.

-You insolent scoundrel!



   

                   

But l remember very well, sir, because

l didn't get to see my wife that day.



   

                   

Boatswain, spread-eagle that liar

to the rigging till sundown.



   

                   

-Aye, aye, sir.

-Wind off the starboard bow, sir.



   

                   

-Man the lee board braces!

-Aye, aye, sir.



   

                   

Here. Get that.



   

                   

Well, Mr. Christian, if your rascals

are any good, bring us into the wind.



   

                   

Boats!



   

                   

-Pull, lads! Pull!

-Lay into it, now. Get up.



   

                   

Send her up, Burkitt. Pull!



   

                   

Mr. Byam, pull up their strokes!



   

                   

Pull! Pull!



   

                   

-Mr. Hayward, speed up!

-Mr. Byam, use your rope's end!



   

                   

-Come on, lads, pull!

-Come on, pick them up.



   

                   

Pull!



   

                   

We're almost in!

Put your weight in it!



   

                   

Good lad, Muspratt. Pull, lads!



   

                   

We're in!



   

                   

We're in! Well done, there!



   

                   

Shall l call the boats in, sir?

They've done their job.



   

                   

What do you expect me to do,

knight them? Hoist the boats.



   

                   

-Aye, sir.

-Good, lads! Good, lads!



   

                   

Well, we are out of

the doldrums at last, sir.



   

                   

l told you to spread-eagle that liar.

Why hasn't it been done?



   

                   

Very good, sir.



   

                   

Come along, McCoy.



   

                   

There's nothing more

powerful than brandy.



   

                   

l threw a brandy bottle overboard once,

an empty one, off the coast of Madagascar.



   

                   

Three years later, l picked it up

in a river in Portugal.



   

                   

lt had gone back

to its home vineyard for more.



   

                   

You would've made an excellent historian.

You have a profound contempt for facts.



   

                   

l don't despise facts, sir,

l'm indifferent to them.



   

                   

Water. Water.



   

                   

Cheese, Mr. Christian?



   

                   

No, thank you, sir.



   

                   

-Mr. Byam?

-No, thank you, sir.



   

                   

-Mr. Fryer?

-No, thank you, sir.



   

                   

Perhaps the surgeon

wants cheese.



   

                   

No, thank you, sir.

lt's bad for my innards.



   

                   

To the best of my recollection,

Mr. Christian, you're partial to cheese.



   

                   

Not tonight, sir.



   

                   

Burn me. l believe

you're with the men.



   

                   

lf you'll allow me,

l think you've been unjust.



   

                   

-Unjust?

-A bit of cheese, more or less.



   

                   

Unjust? ln other words,

you say l'm the man who lied.



   

                   

-l didn't say that, sir.

-You implied it.



   

                   

l've no doubt that Maggs disposed

of the cheeses without your knowledge...



   

                   

...but l can't understand your treatment

of the man who obeyed orders.



   

                   

Maggs is my clerk. lt's not

for my men to question his orders.



   

                   

Nor for you to question mine!



   

                   

l want your apology.



   

                   

l have nothing more to say, sir.



   

                   

Then you can dine elsewhere

on what you can get!



   

                   

-Mr. Bligh.

-Byam.



   

                   

Gentlemen.



   

                   

Come, he implied it,

didn't he, Mr. Byam?



   

                   

Well, l can also dispense

with your company!



   

                   

Thank you, sir.



   

                   

So you're all against me,

officers and men.



   

                   

Won't eat cheese, eh?



   

                   

Before l'm done with you,

l'll make you eat grass!



   

                   

l'm so hungry, if my mother

would reach out to pet me...



   

                   

...l'd have a bit of her hand.



   

                   

There's fish there, all right,

but they're making jokes about the bait.



   

                   

You see--



   

                   

lf l could prove what l suspect, l--



   

                   

No, l wouldn't.

l'm so weak, l'm peaceful.



   

                   

Muspratt, Burkitt,

look here, supper.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

Why--



   

                   

Why, Mr. Christian, sir.

Take a look at this, sir.



   

                   

Supper for six men.

Four pounds, they calls it.



   

                   

lf that weighs more than  

l'll eat the cat-o'-nine-tails.



   

                   

-lt ain't pig. lt's horse meat.

-We pulled our hearts out for this breeze.



   

                   

-And what do we get? We starve.

-Well, little meat, no distemper.



   

                   

Keep the wind in the sails

and out of your stomach.



   

                   

lf it's any comfort,

the officers are in the same boat.



   

                   

Not Captain Bligh.

He's getting fat, the dirty, thieving--



   

                   

Burkitt!



   

                   

Any more of that,

and l'll clap you in irons.



   

                   

Yes, sir.



   

                   

Buckoes. Buckoes.



   

                   

Here's your supper.



   

                   

-Thompson, get your hook and line.

-Right.



   

                   

See him? He's a big one, eh?



   

                   

-Here you are, Burkitt.

-Right.



   

                   

Well, we've got to have bait.

Sharks ain't seamen. They expect to eat.



   

                   

We've got to have bait.



   

                   

-You want to risk this for a meal?

-Aye.



   

                   

-l'm willing.

-Yeah.



   

                   

lf the hook don't kill him, that pork will.



   

                   

Let it go.



   

                   

There he goes. There he goes.



   

                   

-Got him.

-On deck with him.



   

                   

-Easy, now. Easy, now. Easy, now.

-Hold him.



   

                   

-Aye.

-You first, Burkitt. Choose for your mess.



   

                   

-Thanks, mates.

-Yeah, fine catch you've got there.



   

                   

You know l must have a slice, eh?



   

                   

-Shark eat shark?

-You forget yourself.



   

                   

You give me a slice, a nice, large one,

and l'll say nothing.



   

                   

Tell him, you slimy quill-pusher.

Take your slice!



   

                   

At ease, lads. At ease.

Well, how's our shark-killer, huh?



   

                   

He's cut to bits, sir.



   

                   

He'll be all right.

What's a flogging?



   

                   

A few blows and a few "ohs,"

and then you put on your shirt.



   

                   

-Here.

-Thank you, sir.



   

                   

Now, if you'd lost a leg, my lad....



   

                   

l left mine with a Spanish pirate

off the coast of Trinidad.



   

                   

A bullfighter did the trick for me.



   

                   

He was so drunk he nearly

cut off the wrong leg.



   

                   

Hey! Here.



   

                   

You'll be all right.



   

                   

A bit tattooed on the back perhaps,

but just the right style for Tahiti, eh?



   

                   

-Hey, fiddler, give him a tune.

-Aye, sir.



   

                   

-Good night, lads.

-Good night, sir.



   

                   

Listen, Byam. You can flog

those fellows, starve them...



   

                   

-...but they'll bob up again with a fiddle.

-Music at sea...



   

                   

...l never imagined

how beautiful it was.



   

                   

Master-at-arms, stop that infernal jamboree.



   

                   

-lt's worse than two cats on a fence.

-Aye, aye, sir.



   

                   

The old death's-head.



   

                   

l've never known a better seaman,

but as a man, he's a snake.



   

                   

He doesn't punish for discipline.

He likes to see men crawl.



   

                   

l'd like to push his poison

down his own throat.



   

                   

You both have one thing in common,

the devil's own temper.



   

                   

He can let his go...



   

                   

...but whether l can keep mine bottled up

for the next two years is a question.



   

                   

l believe you will.



   

                   

Whatever happens, l'll always

be glad l've known you.



   

                   

l'll remember that when you're an admiral.

Good night, youngster.



   

                   

Good night.



   

                   

-More tea, sir?

-No, you get out.



   

                   

Yes, sir.



   

                   

-You sent for me, sir?

-Yes, l've got a job for you this morning.



   

                   

-Sit down. Had your breakfast?

-Yes, thank you, sir.



   

                   

l want you to sign the list

of all supplies issued on the voyage.



   

                   

Certify and sign.



   

                   

We should raise the island anytime now.

Not a bad voyage so far.



   

                   

All hands accounted for.

Only six down with scurvy.



   

                   

Five with scurvy, one with flogging.



   

                   

Correct, there's your credit.

Five with scurvy, one with flogging.



   

                   

We're still under canvas.



   

                   

Mr. Bligh, l can't sign this book.

No such amounts have been issued.



   

                   

You've signed daybooks with extra kegs

the ship never carried.



   

                   

-l have, sir.

-And why not? We all do it.



   

                   

We'd be fools if we didn't

on a lieutenant's pay.



   

                   

l want to stow away enough

to keep me out of the gutter.



   

                   

l understand, a captain's prerogative.

Ordinarily, l wouldn't mind.



   

                   

Why is this case different?



   

                   

The captains l've served

with didn't starve their men.



   

                   

They didn't save money by buying up

the stinking meat.



   

                   

They didn't buy yams

that would sicken a pig.



   

                   

Silence!



   

                   

They didn't call their men thieves

and flog them in the bone.



   

                   

-You impudent scoundrel! Sign that book!

-l refuse...



   

                   

...and you have no authority.



   

                   

l haven't?! l'll show you authority.

Lay all hands aft! All hands aft!



   

                   

Very good, sir.



   

                   

Company, attend!



   

                   

Mr. Christian, step forward.



   

                   

"lf any officer or other person in the fleet

shall disobey any lawful command...



   

                   

...of any of his superior officers,

every such person...



   

                   

...being convicted of such offense

shall suffer death...



   

                   

...or other punishment as shall be inflicted

on him by the sentence of a court-martial."



   

                   

Mr. Christian, you will sign this book.



   

                   

Mr. Bligh...



   

                   

...the ship's company will bear witness

that l sign in obedience to your orders.



   

                   

But remember, sir, l shall demand

a court of inquiry in England.



   

                   

You mutinous dog.



   

                   

-Retract that, sir.

-l will repeat it. You're a mutinous dog.



   

                   

-Mr. Christian.

-Land ho, sir!



   

                   

Furl away!



   

                   

There she waits, lads!



   

                   

-What is it, Mr. Fryer?

-Tahiti, you fool.



   

                   

So you'll face me

with a court of inquiry?



   

                   

We're a long way from England

and what can happen on this ship...



   

                   

...before we get there

may surprise even you.



   

                   

Milk! lt's milk!



   

                   

Captain, they got cows

here that lays eggs. What a place.



   

                   

Would you help me up, sir?

l'd like to see the island.



   

                   

What for? All islands are alike.



   

                   

That's a singularly stupid observation, sir,

and grossly unscientific.



   

                   

Well, science is one thing

and experience is another.



   

                   

-You see one island, you've seen them all.

-Fiddlesticks.



   

                   

Well, l'm to be first ashore.

Captain's orders, to begin my dictionary.



   

                   

l'll get my trade goods.

We can go ashore together.



   

                   

All right, then.



   

                   

-l know that man.

-Who is he?



   

                   

A friend of Captain Cook's

when l was sailing master.



   

                   

Hitihiti, chief of the island,

priest of the temple. Pipe him aboard.



   

                   

-Mr. Fryer, dress ship.

-Very good, sir. Dress ship!



   

                   

Bligh.



   

                   

-Bligh.

-Hitihiti.



   

                   

Oh, yes. Yes.



   

                   

-Bligh, you got fat.

-Oh, well, it is     years...



   

                   

...since we sailed together

with Captain Cook.



   

                   

-l beg your pardon?

-Where Captain Cook?



   

                   

Captain Cook is dead.



   

                   

-Morti?

-Yes, yes, morti.



   

                   

-He was a good man.

-Oh, yes.



   

                   

Hail King George.



   

                   

King George?



   

                   

Captain Cook say King George come

on next English ship.



   

                   

His Majesty is extremely

sorry he couldn't come.



   

                   

l beg your pardon?



   

                   

My hat.



   

                   

Captain Cook say if King George

don't come, he send hat.



   

                   

Yes, yes, yes! Of course, the hat.



   

                   

Mr. Maggs, go to my cabin

and bring me the hat--



   

                   

-The cocked hat, you fool!

-Yes, sir.



   

                   

The hat will be here

in one moment.



   

                   

So we shall require

      breadfruit plants.



   

                   

-Breadfruit? Uru.

-Correct, uru. Uru.



   

                   

-All we have for you.

-Thank you, thank you.



   

                   

We shall have to stay here

for several months.



   

                   

We shall have provision--



   

                   

-They're welcome to anything.

-Don't be a fool.



   

                   

-You'll need those gifts to make friends.

-Him no need gift, my friend.



   

                   

-Me Hitihiti, you my tayo.

-Tayo?



   

                   

-Chief makes you his friend.

-ln my tongue, close friend.



   

                   

You live home, my home.



   

                   

Tayo. Friend, the finest

word in any language.



   

                   

-lt shall be the first in my dictionary.

-The hat.



   

                   

Yes, thank you.



   

                   

With the compliments of His Majesty

King George lll of Great Britain.



   

                   

-Byam, you come ashore with me.

-Sir?



   

                   

Permission granted, mind you report

onboard ship every night.



   

                   

-Byam will live with my family.

-lmpossible.



   

                   

-l can have no favorites aboard my ship.

-Bligh, you are chief on this ship...



   

                   

...but l am chief on that island.

Byam will come with me, yes?



   

                   

Perhaps that's best. Permission granted.



   

                   

By the way, Mr. Morrison,

pipe the ship's company aft.



   

                   

Aye, aye, sir. All hands aft.



   

                   

Well, we're here. Tahiti at last.



   

                   

England to Cape Horn,

Africa, New Zealand...



   

                   

...Van Diemen's Land

and the great South Seas.



   

                   

l've sailed the Bounty over       miles...



   

                   

...and you think you've come

to an island paradise...



   

                   

...a tropical grog shop

of feast and song and sleep.



   

                   

Well, you're wrong!

You're here to labor.



   

                   

You'll fill this ship with breadfruit trees.

You'll recondition her for sea.



   

                   

Shore leave permitted

if and when l can spare you.



   

                   

lf you abuse it, you'll answer to me.



   

                   

And remember, your work is finished

when we drop anchor in Portsmouth Harbor.



   

                   

-Mr. Fryer will have charge of work ashore.

-Very good, sir.



   

                   

Mr. Christian, you will remain onboard

in charge of reconditioning the ship.



   

                   

Unfortunately, you will have no shore leave

while we're here at Tahiti.



   

                   

That's all.



   

                   

What a place.



   

                   

Hey, when's dinner?



   

                   

Your language is most un-English.

lt means exactly what it says.



   

                   

Here are three pages

on your words meaning "look."



   

                   

-Plenty kind of look.

-That's the trouble.



   

                   

There's one for the downcast eyes,

one for the sidelong glance...



   

                   

...one that invites, one that consents.



   

                   

A whole language of looks.



   

                   

Byam, you think too much.



   

                   

One day, you head go crack.



   

                   

No, no, no, Tehani. l've told you before.

l like my flowers in a bowl.



   

                   

Now, scat. l'm busy.



   

                   

What do you call that look, Byam?



   

                   

The look of a charming girl who will still be

happy when we English invaders go home.



   

                   

By the way,

what's your word for money?



   

                   

Money? What is money?



   

                   

All right, l'll explain. Now, which would you

choose? The shilling or the nail?



   

                   

Oh, no, Hitihiti. With one of these

you can buy    of these.



   

                   

-Oh? Where?

-Well, in England.



   

                   

You see, in England, you must have money

to live with to buy food.



   

                   

ln island of England, no fruit on tree?



   

                   

-No fish in the sea?

-Oh, yes. Plenty.



   

                   

No money, no food?



   

                   

-That's right.

-l stay here.



   

                   

Byam, ahoy!



   

                   

Sounds like Christian.



   

                   

-Well, it can't be.

-Maybe so.



   

                   

Hitihiti, you got him leave!



   

                   

Byam!



   

                   

Fletcher!



   

                   

-Ahoy, Robinson Crusoe.

-Fletcher!



   

                   

l'd given up on seeing you

ashore and Hitihiti never even winked.



   

                   

When he came aboard wearing that hat,

even the articles of war failed Mr. Bligh.



   

                   

Christian. Christian. Lieutenant.



   

                   

Thank you

for speaking to the captain.



   

                   

The sea is good, but the earth

is good also. Be at home.



   

                   

lt's good to be ashore again.

l've been as restless as....



   

                   

-Well, can you speak Tahitian yet?

-Like a native.



   

                   

Why, you little powder monkey!



   

                   

lf you cross my hawse again, l'll

spank your little starboard, understand?



   

                   

-Yes.

-Yes?



   

                   

-Well, l didn't know you speak English.

-Yes.



   

                   

-You must think me a perfect fool.

-Yes.



   

                   

-Well, does she or doesn't she?

-Yes. She speak English. One word: yes.



   

                   

Mr. Byam, your Tahitian dictionary.



   

                   

Madam.



   

                   

This is Hitihiti's granddaughter.



   

                   

-What did she say?

-You must be a king in your own country.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

lf His Majesty could see her...



   

                   

...as l see her now,

he'd forgive the error.



   

                   

-Shall l tell her that?

-No, no. Just say thank you.



   

                   

Byam...



   

                   

...your friend is wise.

He looks, he understand.



   

                   

You make word,

you understand nothing.



   

                   

No work today. Go swim, all.



   

                   

Come along, Fletcher. l'll show you

an island you'll never forget.



   

                   

-You can't imagine what it's--

-Byam.



   

                   

They'd like to come with us,

if you don't object.



   

                   

-Object?

-l thought not.



   

                   

Christian?



   

                   

Aren't they amazing? l never knew

there were such people in the world.



   

                   

They're simple and kind,

and yet, somehow, they're royal.



   

                   

What did you say?



   

                   

Nothing.



   

                   

l'm sorry.



   

                   

l was just thinking...



   

                   

...what a contrast to the ship.



   

                   

Tehani wants to race me. Come on!



   

                   

-Oh.

-What's wrong?



   

                   

He comes from the ship.



   

                   

-Captain Bligh's orders.

-Bligh?



   

                   

You're to report onboard immediately.



   

                   

Oh, l am? Byam, l know his game!



   

                   

He gives me leave and recalls it to devil me

into insubordination. Well, l'll oblige him!



   

                   

l'll have one day off that ship

if l swing for it! Tell him l refuse!



   

                   

What did she say?



   

                   

The man will tell Captain Bligh

you can't be found.



   

                   

Oh, thank you.

l'm sorry l lost my temper.



   

                   

She says you were magnificent,

like a storm at sea.



   

                   

-Thanks for your kindness.

-You will come again?



   

                   

-That rests with you and the captain.

-You will come again.



   

                   

Byam, it's been a day.



   

                   

Goodbye, Maimiti.



   

                   

-Goodbye, all.

-Goodbye, Fletcher.





 

                   

-Good morning, sir.

-Good morning, Mr. Stewart.



 

                   

Mr. Bligh wishes you to report to him

as soon as you come aboard, sir.



 

                   

Thank you, Mr. Stewart.



 

                   

-Reporting, sir.

-You relieve my anxiety.



 

                   

l was about to send an armed shore party

to look for you.



 

                   

-l had your permission, sir.

-You're a fine figure of a king's officer.



 

                   

lf l could prove to that native you're a liar,

they'd arrest you! You'll regret this!



 

                   

Before this voyage is over,

you'll know who's master here!



 

                   

Mr. Bligh, l have in mind the dead seaman

you had flogged in Portsmouth.



  

                   

He struck his captain.



  

                   

You'd like me to strike you.



  

                   

-Well, l won't do it.

-Very clever, Mr. Christian.



  

                   

      pounds, sir. The pick of the island!



  

                   

Mr. Morgan, l shall commend

your industry to Sir Joseph Banks.



  

                   

Thank you. There's one difficulty, sir,

a very grave one.



  

                   

These growing plants require more water

than we can store aboard.



  

                   

We can't let them die, sir.



  

                   

We won't.



  

                   

Mr. Morgan, l'll take these trees

to the West lndies...



  

                   

...every tree in prime condition.



  

                   

l shall cut the water allowance

for the entire ship's company.



  

                   

Good morrow to you.



  

                   

l'll drink your health in Portsmouth!



  

                   

-Put your stuff there.

-lt's mine, sir. lt's a gift.



  

                   

Captain's orders.

Put it down and go forward!



  

                   

Shore leave in heaven, duty in hell again.



  

                   

-What have you got there?

-Monday Wash, sir.



  

                   

lt's a pet, sir.

Her name's Monday Wash.



  

                   

Mr. Maggs, take that laundry

for the captain's table.



  

                   

But, sir!



  

                   

Now get forward!



  

                   

-Come along, there. Hurry!

-Did he hurt you?



  

                   

-No, but one day, l'll take that cane away--

-Look behind you.



  

                   

Yes.



  

                   

Aren't you coming aboard, Hitihiti?



  

                   

l have said farewell to Bligh.



  

                   

l have sent gift to King George.



  

                   

-Then this is goodbye.

-Yes.



  

                   

Byam, tayo.



  

                   

-You have been happy here?

-Very happy, Hitihiti.



  

                   

Byam, l have no son.



  

                   

Stay here with me. Be my son.



  

                   

l must return to England.



  

                   

l shall never come back.



  

                   

Byam...



  

                   

-...you will think of us sometime.

-Hitihiti.



  

                   

Roger! Will you come here, please?



  

                   

-Look.

-Big as gooseberries!



  

                   

Please make her understand.

These are priceless, l can't take them.



  

                   

She says they're for your mother.



  

                   

Oh. Well, thank her, Roger.



  

                   

And tell her when this voyage is over,

somehow, l'm coming back.



  

                   

-l can't tell her that.

-l mean it, Roger.



  

                   

But it's a dream, Fletcher. This island isn't

real for you and me. lt's the ship that's real.



  

                   

-lt's taking us home.

-Tell her, Roger.



  

                   

Thank you, Roger.



  

                   

Goodbye, Maimiti.



  

                   

That's right. No tears, lass.



  

                   

Love?



  

                   

Love.



  

                   

Goodbye.



  

                   

Reporting with deserters. Taken on the

other side of the island. No resistance.



  

                   

Very well, Mr. Young.



  

                   

So you let them take you alive.



  

                   

You'll regret that, me lads.

Take them below.



  

                   

We ain't deserters, sir. You kept us aboard

because we dropped that tub of breadfruit.



  

                   

-We wanted to see the island--

-Take them below and put them in irons.



  

                   

Prisoners in escort, into file.



  

                   

Left, turn!



  

                   

Quick march!



  

                   

-ls she ready for sea, Mr. Fryer?

-Ready, sir.



  

                   

-Set topsails and jibs.

-Stand by. Topsails and jibs.



  

                   

All hands on deck!



  

                   

Looking about me, l can't believe

we're in a ship of the royal navy.



  

                   

The deck's like a barnyard!

Paradise is astern, gentlemen.



  

                   

l'll break the men of that island if l have to

flog every thieving-- Which reminds me...



  

                   

...    coconuts, Crown property, were stolen

on your watch. Am l correct, Mr. Maggs?



  

                   

-l counted myself.

-l'll account for the men in my watch.



  

                   

-They didn't take them.

-Can you account for yourself?



  

                   

Mr. Bligh, may l recall

the outward voyage?



  

                   

Harsh things were said, but l hoped

the return trip would be better.



  

                   

Then suppose you

return the     coconuts.



  

                   

-You think l'm so fond of them l'd steal?

-Yes, you hypocrite.



  

                   

-You stole Crown property more valuable.

-Explain that!



  

                   

Pearls, Mr. Christian.



  

                   

-Pearls?

-l believe l said pearls.



  

                   

Fortunately, Mr. Maggs was at the boat. He

saw that native woman give you two pearls.



  

                   

l think l'm beginning to understand.



  

                   

The native woman, as you call her,

gave the pearls to me.



  

                   

-They are not Crown property.

-The goods l gave away to the natives...



  

                   

...belong to the Crown. What comes back

from the natives belongs to the Crown!



  

                   

l'm not the most patient man

in the world. Give them to me!



  

                   

Remember, Mr. Bligh:



  

                   

Crown property.



  

                   

Very well, Mr. Christian.



  

                   

Crown property.



  

                   

-Gratings rigged.

-Everybody present?



  

                   

-Everyone present, sir, but the surgeon.

-The surgeon is ill, sir.



  

                   

-lll? Drunk, you mean!

-We had to bleed him this morning, sir.



   

                   

He's not fit.

Mr. Morgan and Mr. Christian agree.



   

                   

Go below. Tell him to report

on deck at once!



   

                   

Very good, sir.



   

                   

Thomas Burkitt, Matthew Thompson,

step forward.



   

                   

Ship's company, off hats.



   

                   

l'm sorry, sir.



   

                   

Captain Bligh....



   

                   

How do you feel?



   

                   

l'm afraid l'm a very old man, lad...



   

                   

-...and a very sick one.

-l'll tell him again you can't report.



   

                   

No, boy. No, l'm not worth

getting into a scrape over.



   

                   

For once, a midshipman gives an order.



   

                   

You stay where you are.



   

                   

A good lad.



   

                   

A good lad.



   

                   

l must pull him out.



   

                   

l've taken the liberty of telling the surgeon

to stay, sir. He's not able to report.



   

                   

l'll have no drunken relic holding up

the discipline aboard my ship.



   

                   

Once more, Mr. Byam, bring him on deck,

or l'll have you seized up and flogged.



   

                   

Byam doesn't wanna disobey you. l beg

you, don't force the old man. He can't walk.



   

                   

-Go below and see for yourself.

-Are you presuming to give me orders?



   

                   

Reporting on deck for duty, sir.



   

                   

Mr. Morrison, do your duty.

Four dozen, l believe.



   

                   

Four dozen it is, sir.



   

                   

Nothing lost, Mr. Christian.



   

                   

-Well?

-What did you expect, Mr. Bligh?



   

                   

The man's dead.



   

                   

l call this ship's company

to bear witness.



   

                   

-You killed him!

-Silence.



   

                   

Ship's company dismissed.



   

                   

Boatswain, punishment postponed

   hours.



   

                   

Aye, aye, sir.



   

                   

Do you hear, men?

Ship's company dismissed!



   

                   

Bear a hand. Take him below.



   

                   

Drunkard?



   

                   

Yes, but everybody loved him.



   

                   

The welfare of men on shipboard...



   

                   

...depends upon things that seem small.



   

                   

A joke at the right moment.



   

                   

A glass of grog.



   

                   

A kind word would do more with seamen

than the cat-o'-nine-tails.



   

                   

And this ship will be the worse...



   

                   

...if possible, for his death.



   

                   

Wonder if that's Defoe lsland.



   

                   

The natives are cannibals...



   

                   

...but it's land.

The last we'll see for months.



   

                   

You'd better get some rest.

You've been here for hours.



   

                   

No. l can't sleep,

and it's nearly my watch.



   

                   

-Well, good night.

-Roger.



   

                   

-There's something l want you to do for me.

-Gladly. What is it?



   

                   

One never knows what may happen

on a voyage like this.



   

                   

lf for any reason l don't return to England,

l want you to see my parents.



   

                   

Well, why shouldn't

you return to England?



   

                   

Why?



   

                   

l can't stand this devil's work

much longer.



   

                   

One day l'll forget

this discipline and break his neck.



   

                   

Wait until we're back in England.

The admiralty will save you the trouble.



   

                   

Well, in any case,

l'd like you to see my parents.



   

                   

-Of course. Where do they live?

-ln Cumberland at Maincordare.



   

                   

l've almost forgotten

what the old place looks like.



   

                   

l haven't seen it in     years.



   

                   

But l do remember

a tapestry in the hall...



   

                   

...with ships and islands on it.



   

                   

Perhaps that's what

sent me off to sea.



   

                   

l don't know.



   

                   

ln any case,

l'd like you to see my home.



   

                   

lf anything should happen, tell my

father and mother you knew me.



   

                   

-You can count on me.

-Good. That's settled, then.



   

                   

-Mr. Byam, you're up late.

-lt's fairly warm below.



   

                   

l hadn't noticed. A true sailor can sleep in

an oven or on a cake of ice. Get below.



   

                   

Very good, sir.



   

                   

Your watch, Mr. Christian.



   

                   

And l must count the coconuts.



   

                   

Mr. Christian, sir.



   

                   

That shark's been following us since

the surgeon died, waiting for the burial.



   

                   

-Couldn't l have a musket to shoot it?

-Take the deck.



   

                   

-l'll get the keys to the arms chest.

-Two muskets.



   

                   

l'd like to shoot that shark onboard.

lt's no use. Now's our chance.



   

                   

There's a lot of us here ready. And the

officers and men that won't join us....



   

                   

-Well, it's them or us!

-Keep your hatch closed!



   

                   

Now, get forward!



   

                   

Who's there?



   

                   

Sailor hand, mate.



   

                   

-Hey, what's this noise about here?

-Water, mate.



   

                   

Water?



   

                   

-For deserters?

-But the lad slipped his cable.



   

                   

Well, here's to you slipping yours.



   

                   

When l'm free, l'll wring your scrawny

pipe stem till your tongue pops out!



   

                   

Tongue, is it? l'll give you something

to remind you of that slice of shark.



   

                   

You scum! Get out!



   

                   

l'm sorry, lad.



   

                   

Are you all right?



   

                   

Thank you, Mr. Christian, sir.



   

                   

Better take care of Thompson, sir.



   

                   

Murdering butcher!



   

                   

l've had enough of this blood ship!



   

                   

He's not master of life and death on a

quarterdeck above the angels. McCoy!



   

                   

Quintal!



   

                   

l'm sick of blood! Bloody backs!

Bloody faces!



   

                   

Bligh, you've given your last command!

We'll be men again if we hang for it!



   

                   

You say you're ready for anything?

Release them!



   

                   

-You're taking the ship?

-Mutiny?



   

                   

Yes, mutiny! Pass the word.

Seize the arms chest.



   

                   

We've been waiting for this!



   

                   

No! Don't hit me!



   

                   

Take him!



   

                   

Boatswain!



   

                   

No, no, don't hurt me! Don't hurt me!



   

                   

Now, wake up! Get into your clothes

and lose no time about it.



   

                   

-What's the matter?

-What's happened?



   

                   

-Have we been attacked?

-No, we've taken the ship.



   

                   

And old Bligh's a prisoner.



   

                   

Mutiny?



   

                   

Tie him to the pipe.



   

                   

Mr. Morrison! Mr. Coleman!



   

                   

Shut up or l'll shut your trap for you!



   

                   

Give up this madness,

or we'll all be murdered.



   

                   

You're in no danger.



   

                   

What will we do with him?



   

                   

-Shoot him!

-l'll slit his dirty throat!



   

                   

See that, you butcher? My four dozen.

We'll give you    .



   

                   

-We'll let you know what it feels like!

-Flog him!



   

                   

You old rogue. You'd flog us.

You'd make us eat grass.



   

                   

You bluenosed baboon!



   

                   

Back! Back, all of you!



   

                   

No more flogging aboard this ship.

That's why we're taking it.



   

                   

We'll have something to say about that!

What will you do with him?



   

                   

Put him in a launch and cast him adrift. Give

him food, water, cutlasses and a compass.



   

                   

You can have your choice.

Go with him or stay with me.



   

                   

No. Slit his throat, l say,

and feed him to the sharks.



   

                   

And l say go forward!



   

                   

Clear the launch and lower away!



   

                   

Aye, aye, sir.



   

                   

-Stand by, Thompson.

-Aye, aye, sir.



   

                   

Lively, old buzzing bees.



   

                   

What a pity, what a pity!

Every little tree, perfect.



   

                   

-You'll be sure to water them, won't you?

-Never you fret. We'll water them.



   

                   

We'll take care of your plants,

here, Morgan!



   

                   

You may stay onboard if you like,

without joining us.



   

                   

No, thank you, sir.



   

                   

All right. Your turn, Mr. Bligh.



   

                   

Mr. Christian, l give you your last chance

to return to duty.



   

                   

l'll take my chance against the law.

You'll take yours against the sea.



   

                   

But you're taking my ship! My ship!



   

                   

Your ship? The king's ship, you mean,

and you're not fit to command it.



   

                   

lnto the boat!



   

                   

We're ready, Churchill.

Bear a hand here, will you?



   

                   

McCoy! McCoy!



   

                   

Two little monkey jackets.

Loyal to Captain Bligh, eh?



   

                   

-Serves them right.

-Come on, lads, on deck.



   

                   

l tell you, we will!



   

                   

Mr. Christian, you forgot us.

Call back the boat.



   

                   

There's no more room.

You must stay with us.



   

                   

-We'll join our captain!

-We're not mutineers!



   

                   

l said there was no more room!

Take them below!



   

                   

Stand the guns on them!



   

                   

Give them a drink!



   

                   

Casting me adrift      miles

from a port of call.



   

                   

You're sending me to my doom, eh?



   

                   

Well, you're wrong, Christian!



   

                   

l'll take this boat as she floats

to England if l must!



   

                   

l'll live to see you,

all of you...



   

                   

...hanging from the highest yardarm

in the British fleet!



   

                   

Yardarms, is it? l'll give you yardarms.



   

                   

Burkitt!



   

                   

You're not leaving them adrift?

They'll starve or drown.



   

                   

-That's Bligh's affair.

-Your friends, Morgan, Purcell--



   

                   

Do you think l wanted this?



   

                   

-Call back the boat.

-No.



   

                   

-Call it back!

-No!



   

                   

These men have been in hell.

l couldn't stand it.



   

                   

-Then l must go with Bligh.

-There's no room.



   

                   

Then l call on you men.



   

                   

All of you, in the name

of the king, return to duty.



   

                   

Cock-a-doodle-doo!



   

                   

Give me that gun! Give me that!



   

                   

Take him below.



   

                   

Stand by to wear ship.



   

                   

-What course, sir?

-West-northwest, Tahiti.



   

                   

Tahiti, lads!



   

                   

Tahiti! Tahiti!



   

                   

Hey, Thompson!

Here comes their water!



   

                   

Sit down, Roger.



   

                   

You know, there are five other men

onboard...



   

                   

...who refused to take part

in the mutiny.



   

                   

They've agreed not to try

and retake the ship.



   

                   

You may have your liberty

under the same conditions.



   

                   

l simply want your word for it.



   

                   

You may have it.



   

                   

But l'll escape if l can.



   

                   

l understand.



   

                   

Then l may go?



   

                   

Yes, you may go.



   

                   

Roger...



   

                   

...l'm sorry l had to hit you.



   

                   

That didn't hurt.



   

                   

What hurts is that you and l

can never again be friends.



   

                   

Keep her as she goes, west-northwest.



   

                   

West-northwest, sir.



   

                   

l presume you'll make

for the nearest island.



   

                   

No. That's certain death. The savages

in these parts are fierce cannibals.



   

                   

We must keep well clear of those fellas.



   

                   

By my reckoning, the first port from

which we can expect help is Timor...



   

                   

...in the Dutch East lndies,

some      miles away.



   

                   

Then our case is hopeless.



   

                   

lt is by no means hopeless.



   

                   

We have extra canvas, rope, a tool chest.

We'll put on every rag of sail we can.



   

                   

That's impossible. Deeply laden as we are,

we'd fill with the first storm.



   

                   

Then we'll bail with our hands

if we must.



   

                   

She'll see us through if we do our part,

she will!



   

                   

Begging your pardon, sir,

but the food and the water.



   

                   

We haven't got enough for     days.



   

                   

lf we are to reach Timor alive,

we must make it last          days.



   

                   

lt's the sea against us.



   

                   

Mr. Bligh, we'd be pleased if you'd

ask God's blessing on our journey.



   

                   

That l shall do, Mr. Fryer.



   

                   

Almighty God, thou knowest our need.

Grant that we acquit ourselves like men...



   

                   

...in the trials and dangers

that lie before us.



   

                   

Bail!



   

                   

Bail!



   

                   

Bail faster!



   

                   

Bail faster! Bail!



   

                   

Another piece, Mr. Maggs.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

Thank you, lad.



   

                   

Are we all served?



   

                   

All served, sir.



   

                   

Now, lads, for your own good,

eat and drink slowly.



   

                   

How far have we still to go, sir?



   

                   

Don't let your mind

dwell upon that, lad.



   

                   

Think how far we've come.



   

                   

We'll never see Portsmouth again?



   

                   

We'll see Portsmouth again...



   

                   

...and we'll see Fletcher Christian

hanging from a yardarm...



   

                   

...and every pirate with him.



   

                   

Steady, mates.



   

                   

Steady.



   

                   

Mr. Fryer, take the tiller.



   

                   

Get away! l caught him!



   

                   

Hey, lads! Give me that bird!



   

                   

Share and share alike, lads.



   

                   

The blood for the sick.



   

                   

Raise him up, Mr. Maggs.

Norton, get me a cup.



   

                   

This will nourish you, Mr. Morgan.



   

                   

No, thank you, sir.



   

                   

Give it to the youngsters.



   

                   

They need it more.



   

                   

Yes, Mr. Morgan,

but l'm still giving the orders.



   

                   

Timor, up ahead.



   

                   

Timor!



   

                   

Up with you. Up with you.



   

                   

We've beaten the sea itself.



   

                   

l hope Master Roger has

a nice Christmas, ma'am.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

-Well, good night, ma'am.

-Good night.



   

                   

-Good night, ma'am.

-Good night, ma'am.



   

                   

l beg your pardon.

Will there be anything more?



   

                   

-Nothing more, Burrows.

-Thank you.



   

                   

Christmas?



   

                   

Yes, Christmas.



   

                   

Peace on earth, goodwill to....



   

                   

Come along.



   

                   

A merry Christmas to you,

Mrs. Christian.



   

                   

Thank you, lads.



   

                   

A merry Christmas to you all.



   

                   

-Same to you, sir.

-Merry Christmas, Mr. Christian.



   

                   

Won't you come--?



   

                   

-Roger!

-Merry Christmas, Fletcher.



   

                   

Oh, thanks, lad. l've been hoping

for this for a year.



   

                   

Come in. This is a day worth celebrating.



   

                   

Begging your pardon, sir.



   

                   

We've brought the little lady

a bit of Christmas.



   

                   

Well, thanks, lad.



   

                   

But she must have it from you.



   

                   

Come in. Come in, lads, all of you.



   

                   

-Thank you, sir.

-Aye, aye.



   

                   

My boy was like that

when l left home, sir.



   

                   

He'll be   years old now.



   

                   

Come on, lads.

Everybody outside for some grog.



   

                   

Thank you, sir.



   

                   

lsn't that a sweet baby?



   

                   

Help yourself, lads!



   

                   

Thank you, sir.



   

                   

The surgeon's, Roger.



   

                   

lt would delight his soul to have us

drink it, especially on this day.



   

                   

Friend. Good, good.



   

                   

Hitihiti, here.



   

                   

Makes head go round, round.



   

                   

Come on, Byrne, drink some of this!



   

                   

Where's Ellison? Ellison!



   

                   

Come on!



   

                   

What? A ship?



   

                   

-Maybe she's Spanish.

-No.



   

                   

-No, she's British-rigged.

-British?



   

                   

Did you hear that, mate? British.



   

                   

-British?

-She's coming for us.



   

                   

We've got a chance.

The wind's against her.



   

                   

She must lay outside the reef

till morning.



   

                   

Get your families and your goods together!

Get aboard the Bounty!



   

                   

Thompson, everyone onboard?



   

                   

Burkitt and Muspratt

have gone into hiding.



   

                   

The fools! They'll be taken and hanged.

Get in the boat.



   

                   

Where are you taking us?



   

                   

l don't know. The Pacific is filled

with uncharted islands.



   

                   

We'll find one and settle there for good.



   

                   

Mr. Christian, l've got a wife and child

in England. l've got to get back.



   

                   

Back? You know what that means?

A yardarm.



   

                   

l must take that chance, sir.



   

                   

But whatever happens,

l'll never blame you.



   

                   

Thanks, lad, and l understand.



   

                   

Good luck.



   

                   

Well, this is goodbye, youngster.



   

                   

We'll never see each other again,

that's certain.



   

                   

-But l'll remember.

-l will too, Fletcher.



   

                   

When you're back in England with the fleet,

you'll hear the hue and cry against me.



   

                   

From now on, they'll spell mutiny

with my name.



   

                   

l regret that...



   

                   

...but not the taking of the ship.

Every time l think of Bligh....



   

                   

Well, l'd do it again.



   

                   

lf ever l reach England again, l'll go

to your father and tell him the truth.



   

                   

Thanks.



   

                   

-l'll be happier knowing that.

-Fletcher.



   

                   

What is out there for you?



   

                   

Another island.



   

                   

-Stand by. l'll be back in a moment.

-Hurry up, Byam.



   

                   

When she comes around the headland,

we're going to pilot her in.



   

                   

Oh, Tehani, l'll be back in two hours.



   

                   

Tehani knows.



   

                   

The ship may be here for months

before she sails.



   

                   

But she will sail.



   

                   

Byam, midshipman. Tehani knows.



   

                   

Tehani, you're my wife, always.



   

                   

Mrs. Roger Byam.



   

                   

My wife, my darling.



   

                   

There she is, lads,

and we've nothing to fear.



   

                   

We took no part in the mutiny.

Soon we'll be in England.



   

                   

Thank God! Thank God!



   

                   

We're returning. Good, eh?



   

                   

Very good, sir. My name's Byam,

Roger Byam. This is Mr. Stewart.



   

                   

We're midshipmen

of His Majesty's ship, Bounty.



   

                   

Bring those men up!



   

                   

Captain Bligh, thank God you're alive, sir.



   

                   

They gave me a boat and a sail,

didn't they?



   

                   

Where is Fletcher Christian?



   

                   

He sailed yesterday, sir,

when your ship was sighted.



   

                   

-Where to?

-l don't know, sir.



   

                   

-You don't know, Stewart?

-l don't know either.



   

                   

You're lying, both of you.

Sergeant, put these men in irons.



   

                   

-lrons? What for?

-Mutiny.



   

                   

But we're not mutineers.



   

                   

A court-martial in England

will decide that.



   

                   

-We're as loyal as you.

-A court-martial will decide that!



   

                   

We're reporting for duty!

lf we're guilty, we'd go with Christian.



   

                   

When Christian took my ship,

you remained with him...



   

                   

...and you'll have to answer for it.

lt'll be better to tell me where he's gone!



   

                   

We don't know, sir.



   

                   

Then you'll lie in the hold

until you do know.



   

                   

Sergeant, take them below!



   

                   

By the mark,    ! Rocky bottom!



   

                   

-To the lee helm.

-Lee helm, sir.



   

                   

Steady!



   

                   

Steady, sir.



   

                   

Mark    !



   

                   

-Foretop, any sail in sight?

-No sail, sir.



   

                   

-Banktop!

-No sail, sir.



   

                   

By the mark,    ! Reefs ahead!



   

                   

Mr. Byam, l can't understand why

he keeps us below here in irons.



   

                   

You and Mr. Stewart, Mclntosh,

Coleman, Byrne and myself...



   

                   

...we are no mutineers.



   

                   

Haven't l told him that

time and time again?



   

                   

His marines surprised me and Muspratt,

sir, or we wouldn't be here, alive.



   

                   

Reefs ahead!



   

                   

Attention below.



   

                   

Have you decided to tell me

where Christian sailed for?



   

                   

By the mark,    ! Reefs ahead!



   

                   

Well, l'm waiting!



   

                   

Well, stay here and rot.



   

                   

My watch, l believe, Mr. Christian.



   

                   

Very well, Mr. Young.



   

                   

You heathen slime!



   

                   

Enough!



   

                   

l'm sorry, sir.



   

                   

Mr. Christian, sir, when are you

going to make a landfall?



   

                   

We're fierce sick of this.

lt's more than man can stand...



   

                   

...to be at sea forever in a ghost ship.



   

                   

l've steered off the track of ships.

When it's safe, l'll put about for the island.



   

                   

Until then you've got to trust me,

that's all.



   

                   

Deep     . Rocky bottom!



   

                   

l beg you again to give up the search.



   

                   

The Bounty must be lost. The ship's

dragging barnacles. The seams are open.



   

                   

Men are working the pumps

day and night.



   

                   

-We're still afloat, are we not?

-Only by the grace of God in these reefs.



   

                   

-Ease her off a point.

-Ease her off a point, sir.



   

                   

l must remind you this is

one of His Majesty's ships.



   

                   

Mr. Edwards, l intend to bring back

Fletcher Christian.



   

                   

Unless he's hanging from a yardarm,

not one of His Majesty's ships is safe.



   

                   

Mutiny and piracy will be rampant

in the fleet.



   

                   

-But we'll lose the ship.

-Then we'll lose it!



   

                   

As long as l have a deck under me,

l'll search for that man.



   

                   

Fourteen!



   

                   

To starboard!



   

                   

Old Bligh's a seaman. The rocks are so

thick, a fish couldn't swim between them...



   

                   

-...without rubbing off his scales.

-By the mark,  !



   

                   

Eight fathom! Let's hope

we're moored before night...



   

                   

...or the sharks will have us.



   

                   

By the mark,  !



   

                   

Breakers ahead.



   

                   

Hard alee!



   

                   

What's happened?



   

                   

-Hard to port!

-Very good, sir!



   

                   

Haul out both of them!



   

                   

Get the doors!



   

                   

Captain Bligh!



   

                   

Captain Bligh!



   

                   

Get us out! We'll drown!



   

                   

Lift with them and turn around!



   

                   

Captain Bligh! Let us out of here!



   

                   

Save your voice, man!



   

                   

Take charge of the aft boat.



   

                   

Captain Bligh, get us out of here!



   

                   

-Get those men out!

-Aye, aye, sir! Come on, men!



   

                   

Hurry up, soldier!



   

                   

-The first boat's ready.

-Take them out.



   

                   

Make for the Australian coast.

Prisoners go with me in the other boat.



   

                   

-Very good, sir. God be with you.

-God be with you.



   

                   

Hurry up with you down there.



   

                   

Thank you. You saved our lives.



   

                   

Mr. Byam, l wouldn't lose you

for a flagship. Get into the boat!



   

                   

How long has this trial been going on?



   

                   

About a week now.

They should reach a verdict soon.



   

                   

Oh, there, there, child.



   

                   

But they won't let me see him.

Why won't they let me see him?



   

                   

lf l could see him to talk to him,

he'd know l trust him.



   

                   

-He knows that, darling.

-Oh, but it's cruel. Cruel.



   

                   

They can't hang him!



   

                   

There's the signal.

The trial is opened again.



   

                   

On the    th day of September,      ...



   

                   

...for mutiny on His Majesty's ship,

Bounty.



   

                   

Call Mr. Fryer.



   

                   

Mr. Fryer.



   

                   

Do you swear by God

any evidence you give...?



   

                   

Besides the leader, did you see any of

the prisoners now before this court in arms?



   

                   

-Yes, milord.

-lnform the court.



   

                   

Seaman Burkitt and Seaman Muspratt

were armed with muskets.



   

                   

Seaman Ellison was armed

with a bayonet.



   

                   

Have any of the accused any questions

to put to this witness?



   

                   

Yes, milord.



   

                   

Good morning, Mr. Fryer.



   

                   

Oh, good morning, lad.



   

                   

Mr. Fryer, you say l was armed

with a bayonet.



   

                   

-Did you see me use it?

-By no means, lad.



   

                   

Address your replies to the court.

Milord, he didn't use the bayonet.



   

                   

He merely flourished it

under Captain Bligh's nose...



   

                   

...and called him a few names.



   

                   

Names? What names did he call him?



   

                   

Sir, he--



   

                   

He called him a bluenosed baboon.



   

                   

Have you any more questions

to ask the witness?



   

                   

No, milord.



   

                   

That is all.



   

                   

Milord, l should like to ask

a few questions of Captain Bligh.



   

                   

Very well, Captain Nelson.



   

                   

-Call Captain Bligh.

-Captain Bligh.



   

                   

Captain Bligh, in the previous evidence

given before this court...



   

                   

...you failed to make clear one very

important point. A motive for the mutiny.



   

                   

Can you tell us why your men

took your ship?



   

                   

No, sir. Until l was seized

in the cabin, l suspected nothing.



   

                   

A circumstance occurred the night before

which should have aroused my suspicions.



   

                   

Going on deck, l found Fletcher Christian

and Roger Byam...



   

                   

...talking together at the rail.



   

                   

l heard Roger Byam say,

"You can count on me."



   

                   

l heard Christian reply,

"Good. That's settled."



   

                   

l saw them shake hands.



   

                   

l realized afterwards they

were plotting to seize the Bounty.



   

                   

But that's not true, Captain Bligh.



   

                   

Milord, gentlemen, let me explain.



   

                   

lf the prisoner so desires,

he may question the witness.



   

                   

Captain Bligh, you've not repeated

my whole talk with Fletcher Christian.



   

                   

Did you not hear him tell me

about his home in Cumberland?



   

                   

l did not.



   

                   

Well, did you not

hear him ask my promise...



   

                   

...that if he did not return,

l would tell his parents what had happened?



   

                   

l did not.



   

                   

l swear before God

and before this court...



   

                   

...that was the content

of my talk with Christian.



   

                   

lt had nothing to do with mutiny.



   

                   

Captain Bligh, apart from

the conversation you overheard...



   

                   

...was Mr. Byam's previous conduct

such that you believe him guilty?



   

                   

Sir, his entire conduct convinces me

that he plotted with Christian.



   

                   

They were friends before the mutiny.

They remained friends after the mutiny.



   

                   

When l arrived, the prisoner

could've arrested Christian.



   

                   

But he allowed him to escape.

On his own admittance.



   

                   

Yes, but you knew l was trapped

on the island, perhaps for years.



   

                   

Outnumbered, unarmed.



   

                   

l gave my word to Christian

not to move against him.



   

                   

Mr. Byam, if you were loyal

when Christian escaped...



   

                   

...l should have found you dead.



   

                   

l have nothing more to ask him.



   

                   

l can only say again to this court,

l am not guilty of mutiny.



   

                   

lf that is so, why did you not join

your captain when he was cast adrift?



   

                   

l was below deck planning a counterattack

to regain the ship from the mutineers.



   

                   

With whom did you plan the attack?



   

                   

Sir, with my messmate,

Midshipman Stewart.



   

                   

Milord...



   

                   

...Midshipman Stewart died

in the Pandora's boat.



   

                   

"The Lord is my shepherd.

l shall not want."



   

                   

The Lord is my shepherd.

l shall not want.



   

                   

Can't they ever reach a verdict?



   

                   

l'm that sick of waiting, l could stamp on

a litter of wildcats and never feel a scratch.



   

                   

Well, what are you looking at?



   

                   

lt ain't Tahiti. lt's only Portsmouth.



   

                   

l thought she might row by in a boat.



   

                   

Who, the queen?



   

                   

No, my wife.



   

                   

Sorry, lad.



   

                   

Why can't l see her?

My wife, my boy...



   

                   

...that's all l've come back for.



   

                   

l knew they'd hang me.



   

                   

But l've got to see them.

l've got to see them!



   

                   

Blast these sea captains!



   

                   

Who made their sea law?

God didn't. The burning killers!



   

                   

Lad! We're all in the same boat, Tom.



   

                   

They won't let me see my mother.



   

                   

Won't you help us now

by holding on?



   

                   

Yes, sir.



   

                   

Roger Byam?



   

                   

Follow me, please.



   

                   

-Sir Joseph.

-My lad, they've reached a verdict.



   

                   

-Watch the dirk.

-The dirk?



   

                   

The midshipman's dirk will be lying

on the table before Lord Hood.



   

                   

lf it lies crosswise,

you've been acquitted.



   

                   

lf the point lies toward you,

you've been condemned.



   

                   

God be with you.



   

                   

Thank you, sir.



   

                   

Prisoner and escort, halt.

Left, hut.



   

                   

Have you anything to say before the

sentence of this court is passed upon you?



   

                   

Milord, much as l desire to live,

l'm not afraid to die.



   

                   

Since l first sailed on the Bounty

four years ago...



   

                   

...l've known how men can be made

to suffer worse things than death.



   

                   

Cruelly, beyond duty, beyond necessity.



   

                   

Captain Bligh, you've told your story

of mutiny on the Bounty.



   

                   

How men plotted against you, seized your

ship, cast you adrift in an open boat.



   

                   

A great venture in science brought

to nothing. Two British ships lost.



   

                   

But there's another story,

Captain Bligh...



   

                   

...of     coconuts and two cheeses.



   

                   

A story of a man who robbed his seamen,

cursed them, flogged them.



   

                   

Not to punish, but to break their spirit.



   

                   

A story of greed and tyranny...



   

                   

...and of anger against it,

of what it cost.



   

                   

One man, milord,

would not endure such tyranny.



   

                   

That's why you hounded him.

That's why you hate him, hate his friends.



   

                   

And that's why you're beaten.



   

                   

Fletcher Christian's still free.



   

                   

But Christian lost too, milord.



   

                   

God knows he's judged himself

more harshly than you could judge him.



   

                   

l say to his father, he was my friend.



   

                   

No finer man ever lived.



   

                   

l don't try to justify his crime,

his mutiny...



   

                   

...but l condemn the tyranny

that drove him to it.



   

                   

l don't speak here for myself alone,

but for these men you've condemned.



   

                   

l speak in their names and Fletcher

Christian's name for all men at sea.



   

                   

These men don't ask for comfort.

They don't ask for safety.



   

                   

lf they could speak to you, they'd say:



   

                   

"Let us choose to do our duty willingly.



   

                   

Not the choice of a slave,

but that of free Englishmen."



   

                   

They ask only the freedom

that England expects for every man.



   

                   

lf one man among you believed that--

One man.



   

                   

He could command the fleets of England.



   

                   

He could sweep the seas for England.



   

                   

lf he called his men to their duty

not by flaying their backs...



   

                   

...but by lifting their hearts...



   

                   

...their....



   

                   

That's all.



   

                   

Roger Byam, midshipman.



   

                   

Having heard the evidence against you

and having heard your own defense...



   

                   

...the sentence of this court is

you shall suffer death by hanging...



   

                   

...onboard such of His Majesty's ships

of war and at such time...



   

                   

...as the commissioners for executing

the office of lord high admiral...



   

                   

...of Great Britain and lreland shall direct.



   

                   

Prisoner and escort, into file.



   

                   

Left, turn. Quick, hut.



   

                   

l pronounce this court dissolved.



   

                   

Milord, may l congratulate the court?



   

                   

Captain Bligh, in my opinion,

your open-boat voyage...



   

                   

...was the most remarkable conduct

of navigation in the history of the sea.



   

                   

l must admire your seamanship

and courage, but....



   

                   

Detachment, fall in.



   

                   

Thanks, mate.



   

                   

l've seen them, sir,

thanks to you and your friends.



   

                   

The wife, she's well, sir.



   

                   

And the boy, blow me,

l hardly knew him, he's growed so.



   

                   

You wouldn't believe it,

the dead spit of me.



   

                   

l'm glad, Tom.



   

                   

Look, sir. Like the one she gave me

the day we sailed for Tahiti.



   

                   

Do you know, sir,

that sailing seems like a dream.



   

                   

As far away as the islands are.



   

                   

l remember how Mr. Christian

talked to me that day.



   

                   

Cheered me up, he did.



   

                   

Where do you think he is now, sir?



   

                   

l'd give anything to know.



   

                   

One thing's certain,

he's taken that ship beyond maps.



   

                   

l wonder if he found his island.



   

                   

-Well, sir, what did you find?

-Your new home, lads.



   

                   

There she is, Pitcairn's lsland.



   

                   

-There's no anchorage, no place to land.

-That's why l chose it.



   

                   

l plan to run the Bounty in head-on,

salvage what we can, then burn her.



   

                   

-We'd be fools to burn her.

-We'll be fools if we don't.



   

                   

lf there's one spar left in sight,

we'll never be safe.



   

                   

-We can't burn the ship.

-We can never get back.



   

                   

There's no way back, lad.



   

                   

Once ashore, we're there to stay.



   

                   

But this ship's our last tie with home.

Yon's a lonely rock to die on.



   

                   

lt's enough to live on.

There's sun and earth and water.



   

                   

lt can be a hell or a home

as we choose to make it.



   

                   

We'll remember this as long

as we live and regret it.



   

                   

And remember why we took this ship.



   

                   

They can't press-gang you there, they can't

starve you, and they can't flog you.



   

                   

We're not afraid of a new life.



   

                   

As long as we can live it with decency

and self-respect, we can and we must.



   

                   

For ourselves and our children.



   

                   

Well, hands for burning?



   

                   

-l say burn her, hull and sticks.

-Aye, aye.



   

                   

Very well. We'll get the women and children

ashore and then stand by to take her in.



   

                   

She makes a grand light, sir.



   

                   

Good English oak.



   

                   

Discipline has been maintained.



   

                   

The mutineers who confessed

have been punished.



   

                   

But we're here to plead

for the life of Roger Byam...



   

                   

...because we believe him innocent.



   

                   

And there is more at stake here,

Your Majesty, than his life.



   

                   

We do not exaggerate

when we say a new understanding...



   

                   

...between officers and men

has come to the fleet.



   

                   

By returning Byam to duty, Your Majesty

will confirm that understanding.



   

                   

And not for today only,

but for all time to come.



   

                   

Everyone aboard?



   

                   

-The last shore boat's coming alongside.

-Make ready for sea.



   

                   

Very good, sir.



   

                   

-Ship ready for sea, sir.

-Very good.



   

                   

-Midshipman Byam, reporting for duty.

-You take the mizzenmast, Byam.



   

                   

-Very glad to have you with us, lad.

-Thank you, sir.



   

                   

-May l, Byam?

-Of course.



   

                   

We're off to the Mediterranean, lad.

We'll sweep the seas for England.







  

 
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