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WHITE-JACKET – A Man at War – A Filmscript - 4. Part 4 – Heading North & Part 5 – Rio
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[Part 4 – Heading North – I: The Needle’s Pull]
EXT. HIGH SHOTS OVER THE NEVERSINK – TWILIGHT
During the following voiceover, aerial shots show the ship sailing north. The water is still cold, but her prow confidently cuts the sea into blue-white shards. The moody sky appears to be clearing into her heading, and vermillion edges the western horizon. The sun sets to her port side.
REDBURN (V.O.)
Mad Jack had saved the ship – and done so by countermanding his superior’s order – but in times of peril, like the steel to the loadstone, obedience flies to him best fitted to command. The Captain had shown himself. His way of going about casting glances amongst the men, the forced firmness of his whole demeanor, told he held himself in pivot between sober and its obverse. Mad Jack in hot impulse had tossed the Captain’s order back in his face with a curse, but he suffered no reprimand; instincts would not stand for that. And my Jack, the incomparable Jack Chase, had saved me as sure as we the crew saved ship that night. If timber can offer thanks, I feel the core of that old ship was grateful not half as much as the center of my being was to the man who extended a hand when I most needed one. Thus, we rounded Cape Horn. Turned north, and now Rio exerted a magnetic pull on the hearts of her crew, like the needle shielded within the compass, protected by the strength of the binnacle.
[Part 4 – II: In a Closet] [9]
INT. REDBURN’S COUNTRY HOME, PARLOR – NIGHT
REDBURN anxiously paces before the fire. He pauses with folded arms to bite his finger. He glances to the desk, where PETER sits with a lamp and Redburn’s manuscript for ”Typee.” Peter appears emaciated. He is fully clothed, but wears a dressing gown too; a smoking cap covers his head. A soiled hankie is clutched in his hand. Redburn continues pacing, but presently, Peter is finished. He turns the last leaf, and leans back in his chair with eyes that seem to be far away.
REDBURN
(impatient)
Well?
PETER
I like it; it is very good. But, you are too open about your love for Toby. It must be edited.
REDBURN
I have censored myself far enough. Any more removal of me from our true events and feelings, and I will not be writing truthfully.
PETER
But you have to be reasonable—
Redburn interrupts, but soon regrets it. He stares into the fire’s glow and gets lost in his pining ache for some honesty in the world.
REDBURN
How can you…. Oh, brother, you know, sometimes, standing at the bulwarks of a ship, I have watched the unblinking and uncaring eye of the sea roll by, and in some moments, I came to know what a luxury is grief. My griefs may not be as great as others carry, but they are mine; my losses need expression as much as those of men who lost the women they love.
He goes to Peter, desperately hoping he can make himself understood.
REDBURN (CONT’D)
We all hurt in our own way, yet, it is that hurt that has all the potential to connect us, all of us. For on a ship, a seaman looking out, must sometimes shut himself away in the deepest of closets where no prying hands can pull him out, and to his eye, these thoughts bring a tear of solitude. No, brother, I will not shut my book away in a cupboard, nor too the secret history of what Toby and I shared. For most will fail to see the obvious, because they won’t want to believe it, but to others, the truth will be plain enough. It is to them that I must write, and I will not lock myself away in a closet. Will you help me, Peter?
PETER
You may be too brash for our times…but…I will see about getting it published.
[Part 4 – III: Love on the Berth Deck]
INT. BERTH DECK OF THE NEVERSINK – NIGHT
REDBURN is trying to sleep, but he keeps hearing a regular NOISE that does not belong to the creaking ship, nor her sleeping men. He gets up and follows the sound. As he drifts among the hammocks, and ducks under unoccupied ones, he slowly moves towards the hull. Now the sound grows distinctly carnal; he peeps down into a private section of clear space on the deck next to the side of the ship. Two couples are making love: two mature SAILORS, and two younger SAILORS – one of whom is PATRICK. Redburn can instantly assess that all are willing participants, so he leaves them in peace.
[Part 4 – IV: Preemptive Strike]
EXT. MAIN DECK OF THE NEVERSINK – DAY
The weather is improving. TAWNEY and REDBURN blacken their cannon. WULU comes by and stops, smiling.
WULU
(in POLYNESIAN, with subtitles)
Looks like White-Jacket is getting crusty with care. It is not so white anymore!
REDBURN
(awkward chuckle)
Life is never easy, is it?
(in POLYNESIAN, with subtitles)
Friend; brother – I know you see what it is to be alone among so many, on a ship like this.
WULU
I do. We do. But more than see, I think I understand something about you, you may not.
REDBURN
(in POLYNESIAN, with subtitles)
Such as? My jacket’s whiteness?
WULU
(in POLYNESIAN, with subtitles)
Yes, and more. I sense you were blessed by the protection of holy mana.
(ENGLISH)
That you are taboo.
REDBURN
(floored)
How could you—
WULU
You carry it upon your shoulders and above your head as plainly as any of your Christian idols.
REDBURN
(after a pause)
And my jacket? What means it to you?
WULU
It is the color, as you must know, of sacrificial purity that you, Tommo, have to offer to mana – the universal lifeforce.
REDBURN
(deflective chuckle)
I’m far from being an untapped wellspring of cosmic purity.
WULU
I’m not so sure. If I may hint…suggest…your manhood – the godhead of your connection to omnipotent Grace – has yet to be broached, raised, sapped by female congress.
Redburn blushes violently.
REDBURN
Well, if that’s what you mean, I’m ‘pure’ in that way.
WULU
That is the way I, with my Polynesian catechism, meant it.
(in POLYNESIAN, with subtitles)
I’d suggest it’s this unsullied, spiritual energy, that as a taboo person, you, Tommo, are connected to and watched over from the other side.
BEGIN REDBURN’S ‘QUICK TABOO’ MONTAGE:
■ A closeup of Redburn’s face dissolves
■ To Queequeg’s forehead touching his after Stubbs signed their Will in the cabin of the Pequod, which dissolves
■ To his husband’s white top hat floating amongst the wreckage of the ship, which dissolves
■ To giddy dots of seagulls circling a spot of water. Suddenly, Moby-Dick breeches the surface in all his “mountain of snow” splendor, and, as his form sinks below the waves again, the spray he’s caused gets frozen in its descent.
■ The spray moves in slow motion as the background blackens to space, and the spray to slow swarms of firefly-stars.
■ Kikiruaru’s hand scatters them.
BEGIN REDBURN’S ‘QUICK TABOO’ MONTAGE.
Redburn snaps out of it, but before he can form a word to say to Wulu, there is a sudden commotion by the mainmast. PERT and MONTGOMERY stride up, and wait. BRIDEWELL follows them, and shows he is more than peeved; he brings a BOATSWAIN’S MATE with him. They all turn and watch LEGS and POUNCE escort an indignant SHAKINGS by inter-locked arms.
BOATSWAIN’S MATE
(to Redburn and Wulu)
You two, get the gratings up.
As they do, Shakings breaks free of his restraints, and stands tall as he addresses Bridewell.
SHAKINGS
What’s this all about?
MONTGOMERY
(to Pert)
You’ve got to stop this.
The Boatswain’s Mate has removed his jacket, and is rolling up his sleeves.
BRIDEWELL
Strip. Prepare to receive your lashes.
SHAKINGS
I will be flogged, once I know the reason for it.
BRIDEWELL
Mr. Pert was disrespected by you, sir.
SHAKINGS
Disrespected? How?
BRIDEWELL
Your impertinence surprises me, sir. The details of your crime will not stand a public airing; that you are not whipped before all hands should be duly accorded by you as a mercy. Now, strip.
MONTGOMERY
(to Pert)
You still have time to stop this.
Pert only grins. Shakings removes his jacket. He looks around. Redburn goes up and holds it. Shakings takes off his shirt and hands it to Redburn.
SHAKINGS
Do not bind me. I am man enough to stand my ground.
Bridewell nods; sighs. Shakings goes to the gratings and stands with spread legs. He raises his arms and laces fingers through the slats. The Boatswain’s Mate combs the cat-o-nine-tails, and strides up to the man. Shakings turns his head and locks eyes on Pert. He is beaten twelve times – blood flows, welts raise and his sides are cherry-red from bruises – but he holds Pert’s look without a flinch. Afterwards, the Boatswain’s Mate steps back, and the senior officers leave. Shakings stands upright, then spits on the deck near Pert’s feet. Redburn comes over and offers to hold shaking’s shirt for him to get into. Shakings grabs it out of his hands.
SHAKINGS (CONT’D)
Do you think I am hurt, man? I will put on my own shirt.
Without thinking about it, Redburn casts his eyes down. Shakings grabs him under the chin and raises his sight to him.
SHAKINGS (CONT’D)
I am not the worse for it, man! – tis no dishonor to be beat by order of a punk who only flogs dishonor onto his own back.
He walks away still shirtless. Pert makes to go too, but Montgomery grabs his arm.
MONTGOMERY
Why, Pert? Why!
PERT
(jerking his arm free)
Preemptive strike, like we learned in
strategy class.
MONTGOMERY
(to Pert’s sneer; shakes his head)
Stay away from me.
(walks away backwards)
I don’t want anything to do with you anymore.
Pert becomes aware that others are watching him.
PERT
(to Redburn and Wulu)
You men, clear the gratings.
Pert walks away, and the two go to work.
REDBURN
How dare they punish the un-punishable – is not a person’s ‘sin’ their own business? Surely the only crime is the misuse of power, but is that ever taken out and flogged for the public to see? No, never.
[Part 4 – V: Mystery Equal Romance]
EXT. PHARMACY OF THE NEVERSINK – DAY
REDBURN stands in the passageway, and leans on the shelf of PELICAN’s open Dutch door. A tin cup is by his elbow. Pelican is busy by the mortar; a green visor is on his forehead. Redburn stares frankly at him.
REDBURN
You look like a bean-counter accountant, only you reckon pills and powers, not coin and script.
Pelican comes to the door, and motions to the cup.
PELICAN
Why tarry? Is that not the remedy
you seek...?
Redburn stands upright; adjusts his crotch.
REDBURN
Actually, no.
PELICAN
(tut tut)
Impossible youth. Well, come back at four bells. That’s the time I close the shop, and its blinds.
Redburn stands and cracks a lopsided grin. He drains the cup, licks his lips with a deep-toned ”Ah!” before slapping the cup on the shelf. As he turns to go, he winks that Pelican. Redburn’s attention is drawn to the end of the passage. He hears CHEERS and BOOS coming from the space at the end of it.
INT. LEE WAIST
OFFICERS – including CAPTAIN CLARET – and a few SAILORS and MARINES, are standing along the perimeter. All of them either offer noisy support or derision of the fight. In the ‘ring,’ two shirtless and barefoot SAILORS box with bloodied knuckles wrapped lightly in white strips. REDBURN goes to stand next to NORD, who smiles and raises his eyebrows as greeting. Close by is WULU, SUNSHINE, MAYDAY and ROSEWATER. The officers make discreet wagers. During the following voiceover, Redburn pretends to be watching the fight, but cannot help lingering on Nord.
REDBURN (V.O.)
If mystery includes an element of romance, Nord struck a very romantic figure indeed. The officers respected him; the men were afraid of him. Whatever incommunicable grief he carried on his tall and upright frame, his sanguine brow wore it as a scowl. Nord was a wandering recluse among the crew, and like me, never more isolated than in a crowd. He only spent time with his chummie, Lemsford – his sole companion and mate – and seeing them stroll the main deck of a warm evening had all the charm of watching Don Quixote with his Sancho Panza. Nord and I had kindred spirits, and in all things, my heart yearned towards him. I was determined to know the man. At last I succeeded. During a quiet amble on the gun deck, I learned more than I have ever done in any other afternoon.
In the ring, one man delivers a bone-cracking right hook to his opponent’s left temple. The concussed man drops to his knees, and a referee begins to count. The ‘winner’ parades around in a shower of cheers and boos. The hurt man falls face-forward on the deck; the count quickly ends; and the victor’s hand is raised by the referee. The losing officers pay up, and sailors help the injured to stand and leave the ring.
MASTER-AT-ARMS
Who’s next?! You, Wulu, and you, Sunshine – come and butt heads for the Captain’s pleasure!
Wulu folds his arms.
MASTER-AT-ARMS (CONT’D)
What? Too good for the likes of you, eh?
CAPTAIN CLARET
Mayday and Rosewater, present yourselves in the ring, and headbutt.
Mayday is not in the mood, and the sickened look on Rosewater’s face, makes him go up to the Captain.
MAYDAY
Sir, why not have two of the Irish lads
do that?
There is a whoop of disbelief from the crowd. The Master-at-Arms grabs Mayday by the arm and spins him roughly into the ring.
MASTER-AT-ARMS
Because you know that type of fight is only fit for darkies to do.
He glares at Wulu.
MAYDAY
(takes a stance; hikes up his trouser cuffs)
Come on, boy! Sooner started, sooner over and done with.
Rosewater enters the ring amid cheers. He makes a halfhearted stance – bets are placed, and a stomping rhythm rises. They run and ram each other. Rosewater is stunned and hurt. He grips his head, and lands back on his ass. The whites laugh at him. Mayday and Sunshine go to help Rosewater exit the ring amid jeers.
MAYDAY (CONT’D)
(peeved)
Come on, boy, they’re laughing at us. Up
and out!
SUNSHINE
(makes a dismissive sound; to Mayday)
Ain’t you been born with any common sympathy?
(to Rosewater)
Come on, lad. Time to go.
Redburn touches Nord’s shoulder. Nord bends an ear down, and Redburn whispers something unheard into it. Nord’s reaction makes it clear he is intrigued, so Redburn makes his way out to the passage. In a few moments, Nord follows.
INT. PHARMACY
PELICAN takes off his visor. He opens his door and lets REDBURN and NORD in.
PELICAN
Oh! Two for the price of one.
He closes the door.
PELICAN (CONT’D)
So tell me, young master Nord…
He locks it.
PELICAN (CONT’D)
…Are you pious?
He slaps the blinds shut.
DISSOLVE TO:
SLOW PULL-AWAY:
From the back of Pelican’s head.
The Surgeon Mate is on his knees, and his head moves front to back, repeatedly. Gradually, the waists and legs of Redburn and Nord standing with full flanks touching comes into view. They lean against Pelican’s counter, hands kicked out behind them for support. As the Surgeon’s Mate services them, the young men kiss tenderly with open and exploring mouths.
[Part 5 – Rio de Janeiro – I: Greetings]
EXT. THE NEVERSINK AT SEA AND IN HARBOR – DAY
The ship sails through a piddling mist. The following voiceover begins with the ship looking lost and wayward.
BEGIN ‘DOFF THEIR HATS’ SERIES OF SHOTS:
A) ON THE MAIN DECK
REDBURN stands at the port side bow and gazes through the haze. While he delivers the following voiceover, the haze lifts, until finally, Sugarloaf Mountain is seen looming straight ahead.
REDBURN (V.O.)
In good time, our ship was equal to the parallel of Rio de Janeiro. And in time, the mist standing in for land cleared. The high-aloft and justifiably famed Sugarloaf Mountain was seen through the vapors with our prow and bowsprit pointing for her straight as a die.
Several voices ring out: ”Land Ho!”
A HIGH SHOT
Shows the ship entering Rio’s harbor, where verdant hills climb upwards into untouched rainforests. All is green, wet and fresh.
C) A WATER-LEVEL SHOT IN HARBOR
Shows the ship entering among other war ships at anchor. As the following voiceover starts, a French warship lowers her Tricolour. From the Neversink’s bulwarks, a smiling JACK CHASE and Redburn hear the French band strike up ”Hail Columbia.”
REDBURN (CONT’D – V.O.)
Gliding into her harbor, various men-of-war gallantly lowered their ensigns for us as a spiff might doff his hat on the Bowery, and then their brass bands regaled us with salutes in the guise of our national airs.
D) A SHOT FROM THE DECK
Takes in the stunning natural setting of the harbor and the polished stone of the city to one side.
E) AS SEEN FROM A BRITISH WAR SHIP
The gallant USS Neversink glides into an anchorage spot, her massive Stars and Stripes leisurely salutes the harbor from her stern. The men of their brass band rush to assemble by the mainmast, while astern, other men rush and lower the Union Jack.
F) FROM THE BULWARKS OF THE NEVERSINK
Redburn and Jack Chase hear the British band strike up “The Star-Spangled Banner.” They smile to one another, stand at attention and salute.
G) A WATER LEVEL SHOT
As the Neversink’s anchor is released and splashes down. During the concluding voiceover, the shot rises to show a peaceful harbor and city.
REDBURN (CONT’D – V.O.)
Nothing can exceed the courteous etiquette of these ships of all nations in greeting their brethren, for of all men, the accomplished duelist is the most polite – until, that is, he levels his gun to explode your brains.
END ‘DOFF THEIR HATS’ SERIES OF SHOTS.
[Part 5 – II: Published]
INT. REDBURN’S COUNTRY HOME, PARLOR – DAY
REDBURN sits at his desk, writing. EMILY comes to the double doors in an excited huff. She pauses a moment to suppress her joy, and walks to her brother hiding a letter in her hand behind her back.
REDBURN
How is Peter today?
EMILY
(momentarily deflated)
Oh, I believe he is worse. He now has trouble rising from bed; but, as I was reading his correspondence to him, this was among them.
She coyly grins and reveals the missive, which she fans herself with, then holds under her brother’s nose.
REDBURN
And what, is that, dear Emily?
She hops once in place.
EMILY
A London publisher wants ‘Typee’!
Redburn swallows a lump, slowly rises and takes the letter. He scans it quickly, then looks dumbfoundedly to his sister.
REDBURN
Does Peter know...?
EMILY
Yes, he knows, and he is glad.
REDBURN
I’m going to be published?
EMILY
(taking his hands; screeching)
Yes!
The two hop together and begin circling the room with laughter. They pause. Emily strokes his cheek.
EMILY (CONT’D)
My brother, the author.
[Part 5 – III: Downfall/Worse Than Evil]
EXT. HULL OF THE NEVERSINK – DAY
The ship’s main launch is loaded high with fresh produce, crates and casks of all sizes. SAILORS climb the rope ladder with the goods on their shoulders.
EXT. SURFACE OF THE WATER
REDBURN rows in the COMMODORE’s boat, while that worthy stands in the bow section like Washington crossing the Delaware, except he has his befeathered hat on, and acts more like Napoleon.
EXT. MAIN DECK OF THE NEVERSINK
BRIDEWELL and MONTGOMERY supervise the logging-in of the supplies. Piles mount up on the deck, and the middie runs to-and-fro writing figures in his ledger. He accidentally kicks a couple of crates with ”Purser” written on them. Off to the side, the MASTER-AT-ARMS skulks around, pacing with sly glances and hands behind his back. Suddenly, CAPTAIN CLARET storms right up to him.
CAPTAIN CLARET
This will not do, Master-at-Arms! Half a dozen men a day collared and flogged at the gangway for public drunkenness. Discontent rules, and makes more unruly by the hour the challenge of keeping the men on ship, like prisoners!
MASTER-AT-ARMS
(remembers to salute)
Sir!
CAPTAIN CLARET
It is not enough to mete out punishment after the fact.
(humph)
Mr. Bridewell!
BRIDEWELL
(snaps a salute)
Sir!
CAPTAIN CLARET
How is such a large quantity of illicit alcohol being smuggled on my ship, under our noses!
BRIDEWELL
(gulps)
It must come on at night, sir. We have safeguards and checks in place—
CAPTAIN CLARET
(interrupts)
Safeguards and checks, sir! You, Mr. Bland, and your corporals will do all you can to cut off the supply. The men will be landed back in America penniless at this rate, it all having gone to the smuggling ringleader.
There is a commotion near the gangway. Wardroom OFFICERS, and four midshipmen are coming off of shore leave. Down to their shirtsleeves, DASH, SLIM and BOAT PLUG helps an overly inebriated PERT to walk. They try to head him to their cabin, but he calls out stupidly.
PERT
Oh, Cappy Claret, I’m…home…!
The boys shush him, but – feeling free-and-easy themselves – they mainly laugh and slap his back. The Captain strides up to them with barely contained ire.
CAPTAIN CLARET
Messrs. Dash and Slim, you will immediately sew up Mr. Pert in his hammock, before he can do any harm to himself or others.
DASH and SLIM
Aye, aye, sir!
The middies trudge off loudly shushing each other. The Master-at-Arms has come to stand behind the Captain.
MASTER-AT-ARMS
God, how I hate all drunkards. The lot deserve the bitter bite of the lash!
This stuns the Captain. He tries not to look at Bridewell.
MASTER-AT-ARMS (CONT’D)
I mean…I will, so help me God, Captain Claret, spend my last waking moment to sit up at night and spy out all deeds of darkness.
CAPTAIN CLARET
I have no doubt, Mr. Bland, that you know where your duty lies. Now, be about it.
The Captain turns to go, and the officers salute him. The Master-at-Arms pauses a moment and jogs off in another direction.
BRIDEWELL
Do not fall to excess of drink, young Mr. Montgomery.
MONTGOMERY
Aye, sir. But, why is it so many in the Navy do, sir?
BRIDEWELL
To feel alive.
MONTGOMERY
Sir?
BRIDEWELL
Immured as the man-of-war’s man is, son, serving out his three-year sentence on a floating prison, where he can neither fly over the roof, nor burrow under the walls, he instead falls to the bottle. He is reckless as an avalanche; and though his fall destroy himself and others, a ruinous commotion is better than a cadaverous silence. See?
MONTGOMERY
Aye, sir.
Bridewell kicks one of the ”Purser” crates, and the unexpected weight of it slowly seeps into his brain.
BRIDEWELL
To feel alive…
(the thought hits his consciousness)
…’Under our noses.’ Mr. Montgomery, where is the Purser? He is onboard?
MONTGOMERY
No, sir. He was in the officers’ launch about two hours ago.
BRIDEWELL
Mr. Montgomery, you and I will watch and see who comes to…collect….
As he is speaking, SCRIMMAGE comes and bends to lift the very crate Bridewell had stubbed.
SCRIMMAGE
Pardon, sir.
By the time the man stands, the First Lieutenant and midshipman are penning him in with their bodies and hostile glares.
BRIDEWELL
Now, you were telling me, Mr. Montgomery, that the Purser is on shore, and also, how he said expressly that he’d have no deliveries today.
Bridewell winks; Montgomery plays along.
MONTGOMERY
Aye, sir – that he did indeed.
BRIDEWELL
So, Scrimmage, I believe I have a choice. Impound those crates you are stealing, put them in the brig to cool off – or – put you in the cooler to rot.
SCRIMMAGE
(nearly drops the crate)
It was not my idea, sir. H’and my cut is measly.
BRIDEWELL
Who’s the ringleader?
Scrimmage looks stricken. He slowly sets the crate on the deck. Gradually his sick look is replaced by one of fear.
SCRIMMAGE
I will tell the Captain. In private, sir.
INT. MIDSHIPMEN’S CABIN
PERT has been sewn up in his hammock so only his face can be seen. He is half asleep, half singing, and all happy. The shot pulls back from his face, glides down his torso to the waist, then sinks to the underside of his hammock. While we watch, a yellow stain forms on the fabric, and then a stream of urine falls freely to the deck.
INT. CAPTAIN’S CAPTAIN
CAPTAIN CLARET sits at his desk, and his eyes momentarily fall on the whale tooth snuffbox there. To his left, SCRIMMAGE and two other SAILORS, stand with hands lashed before them; to his right, BRIDEWELL and MONTGOMERY stand near the table. On it is the open “Purser” crate, which is full of bottles of cachaça. There is a RAP on the door. The Captain nods at Bridewell, who opens it; the MASTER-AT-ARMS steps in and salutes.
MASTER-AT-ARMS
(looks around)
You wanted to see…me…sir….
Bridewell closes the door with ominous silence.
CAPTAIN CLARET
Jonathan, is this true?
MASTER-AT-ARMS
Yes.
CAPTAIN CLARET
To the brig. I will have to decide your fate. First Lieutenant, relieve this man of his duty. Take his badge.
Bridewell rips it off.
MASTER-AT-ARMS
You can’t have me flogged! James…you can’t.
CAPTAIN CLARET
Messrs. Bridewell and Montgomery, remove these men from my sight.
MASTER-AT-ARMS
Captain—
The Captain cuts him off. He rises and pounds his desk in furry.
CAPTAIN CLARET
You had the helpless men flogged for being drunk on your smuggled liquor! That’s worse than criminal – that’s evil.
MASTER-AT-ARMS
(spiteful)
Some need my ‘evil’ help just to get through the day, and as I said, I hate all drunks.
CAPTAIN CLARET
Remove him.
Bridewell opens the door, and he and Montgomery begin to push the prisoners out of it. The ringleader struggles and shouts as he is shoved.
MASTER-AT-ARMS
Do what you must, Captain, to save face! I will survive.
[Part 5 – IV: Two Hundred and Twenty-Five Lashes]
EXT. MAIN DECK OF THE NEVERSINK – MORNING
The CREW is assembled, and morning muster is in progress. The prayer is about to end.
CHAPLAIN
Amen.
CREW
Amen.
As the hats go on heads, JACK CHASE keeps his doffed and walks up to the Captain.
JACK CHASE
Begging pardon, sir, but I have favor to request for the people, Captain Claret.
CAPTAIN CLARET
Jack Chase, we are not—
JACK CHASE
Aye, favor, as it seems we are so close to land, and yet so far away. Soon the land will come to us – it rises like the underwater lava off Hawaii, only for us it is the growing pile of beef bones daily thrown over by our cooks.
CAPTAIN CLARET
What is it that you want, Jack?
Other matters—
JACK CHASE
Only this, sir. We have gazed ‘round upon this ravishing landscape till we can gaze no more. Will Captain Claret vouchsafe us one day’s liberty, and so assure himself the eternal felicity that in our flowing cups will ever be remembered?
LEMSFORD
(aside to Redburn)
Shakespeare, Henry V.
Jack lifts his hat up as a supplicant might, and holds it double-handed at his chest. He bows his head in respect to the Captain, and touches his lips to the brim. The COMMODORE comes up next to the Captain.
CAPTAIN CLARET
And what do you want to go ashore for?
JACK CHASE
As thirsty camels in the desert long
for oasis—
CAPTAIN CLARET
Right. To drink.
COMMODORE
Well, Jack – you and your shipmates are after some favor; a day’s liberty, is it not?
The Captain is openly hostile; grows flush.
JACK CHASE
Valiant Commodore, our sea general, yes. Liberty, sir, is our humble prayer.
COMMODORE
(to the Captain)
I think we must give them liberty.
(to Jack)
Well, we will see about it.
CAPTAIN CLARET
Back to your place. We must proceed
with muster.
Jack joyfully caps himself, and salutes, twice. Jack goes to his place, and the Captain nods at the BOATSWAIN.
BRIDEWELL
All hands witness punishment, ahoy!
CAPTAIN CLARET
Master-at-Arms, bring up the prisoners. Ready the gratings.
LEGS leads the way with his office’s badge proudly polished and on his chest. COLBROOK, another MARINE, and POUNCE bring up a manacled SCRIMMAGE, BLAND and the other SAILOR conspirator. Members of the crew are shocked to see the former police captain under arrest. The panning of enlisted-man climaxes on LANDLESS’ face.
CAPTAIN CLARET
(forgets to pull out the report)
The daily report of offences…says…. You! – Bland – you were yesterday admitted of smuggling liquor onboard the United States Ship Neversink. Have you anything to say?
Blunt shakes his head.
CAPTAIN CLARET (CONT’D)
You are to be flogged for breaking a serious rule on vessels of the United States Navy; twenty-five lashes.
All practically gasp.
CAPTAIN CLARET (CONT’D)
Strip. Quartermaster – ready?
The Quartermaster takes Bland to the mast. One of the Quartermaster’s Mates hauls up Bland’s still-tied hands and lashes them to the gratings. The other Mate spreads the prisoner’s legs and secures his ankles. The BOATSWAIN’S MATE combs the scourge with his fingers. They all realize Bland is still wearing his shirt. They pause. The Captain grows flush thinking that the crew believes this is some sort of favor to his former mate. He goes himself and rips Bland’s shirt down from the collar. As the Captain steps back, REDBURN can see Bland’s milky-white back is free of any scars. The Captain lifts his finger. The Boatswain’s Mate coils back. The Captain, near tears, lowers his finger, and the Boatswain’s Mate lashes out with all his might. The sounds are terrifying. Bland screams like he is dying. The man begins to bleed, and with further strikes, the blood splashes as tiny drops onto the viewers from the ends of the nine lashes.
JACK CHASE
(aside to Redburn)
See the Captain? He’s shipped on his ‘quarterdeck face’ – no emotion, even at seeing his man torn apart.
There are more lashes; the Boatswain’s Mate is sweating profusely. Bland’s spine is nearly visible.
TAWNEY
(aside to Lemsford)
Cannibalistic cruelty; twenty-five the sentence, times nine whips, equals two hundred and twenty-five lashes.
When the scourging is finished, the Quartermaster and his Mates cut the bindings, and Bland falls moaning to the deck as a heap of raw flesh; he crawls like a worm. Landless looks satisfied. Colbrook and others pick him up and move him away.
CAPTAIN CLARET
Mr. Bridewell, do you have the ship’s roster?
BRIDEWELL
Aye, sir.
CAPTAIN CLARET
Read out for the crew to hear.
BRIDEWELL
(referring to his little book)
Bland, common seaman number four-seventy-nine; mess number fifteen; assigned Gun Number….
As Bridewell continues to read, Bland’s shackles are undone. He is suddenly set free in a sea of hostile sailors whom he has wronged and robbed. Landless steps forward to the edge of the crowd; Bland locks eyes with him, and Landless cracks his knuckles.
[Part 5 – V: Laundry Day and Thumps All Around]
EXT. MAIN DECK OF THE NEVERSINK – AFTERNOON
SAILORS – including NORD, LEMSFORD and REDBURN – have their hammocks spread on deck. Each man has a bucket, a fist-sized chunk of soap, and a large river stone. They suds up the fabric with bare feet, above which their pant cuffs are rolled up. Then, they get on all fours to scrub with the stone. Afterwards, they use the remaining water in their pails to wash the hammocks down, and to horse around.
EXT. RIGGING OF THE NEVERSINK
Spotless, but dripping, hammocks rise on lines side-by-side to dry aloft.
INT. MIDSHIPMEN’S CABIN
The six MIDSHIPMEN rise to their feet for inspection. They salute as MAD JACK and CAPTAIN CLARET enter. The Captain picks up a chipped saucer from the table and scowls at it. He leaves it and walks over the hammocks. At first he passes by PERT’s bedding, but then walks backwards to it. The urine stain is very apparent.
CAPTAIN CLARET
Second Lieutenant, have this disgrace of a midshipman’s hammock tossed overboard, along with all his bedding.
Pert runs up, pushes Mad Jack aside.
PERT
Begging pardon, sir, but I have my cash sewn up in my pillow…I….
CAPTAIN CLARET
(to Mad Jack)
Sir, I have given an order.
MAD JACK
Aye, aye.
The Second Lieutenant jostles Pert aside and unfastens the hammock. Pert is first shocked, then dismayed, but that quickly gives way to a lust for revenge.
PERT
Begging pardon again, Captain, sir – but – the state of that hammock is not my fault.
CAPTAIN CLARET
(anger rising)
Oh, yes? And whom do you propose to blame for your urine being in your bedding, Mr. Pert?
PERT
My cotboy, sir. I ordered him to bleach it spotless, sir. He is derelict in his duty.
CAPTAIN CLARET
You lay blame on another man’s shoulders for your lack of control?
PERT
(narrow-eyed)
It is our solemn oath of the Navy to serve all those higher in rank to us in lawful orders. I gave an order, it was not executed, so my man must be made an example of before his peers.
CAPTAIN CLARET
You’d seriously flog a grown man for the drunken caprice of a half-matured boy, Mr. Pert?
PERT
Aye, sir. Because it is within my rights – nay, my obligations – as an officer.
CAPTAIN CLARET
(without flinching from Pert’s stare)
Lieutenant, have the man flogged, per midshipman, Pert.
MAD JACK
(disgusted)
Aye, sir.
Mad Jack gathers the soiled hammocks to himself, and leaves. The Captain follows, but pauses in the doorway.
CAPTAIN CLARET
(to Pert)
But, remember, you do not have your commission yet, and something may yet happen to delay or cancel the chance of it ever coming your way.
(to the others)
And that goes for all of you.
The Captain leaves. MONTGOMERY comes at PERT with elevated fists.
MONTGOMERY
You little shit. The world thumps you, so you mindlessly pass that thump on. Is that the way of life! I am hurt, so I hurt others?
(others gather to restrain him)
Watch it, Mr. Pert. Wait till you see the mighty blow Dame Fate has coming your way.
He breaks free and leaves.
EXT. RIGGING OF THE NEVERSINK
Line upon line of sailors’ trousers, drawers, jerseys and t-shirts rise dripping into the rigging.
_
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