WHITE-JACKET – A Man at War – A Filmscript - 1. Part 1 – Homeward Bound

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The Secret Melville [06]

 

WHITE-JACKET

A Man at War

Film Script

 

 

“Seeking to forget makes exile all the longer;

the secret of redemption lies in remembrance.”

Richard von Weizsaecker

 

 

---

 

Based upon the Novel:

 

White-Jacket

or

The World of a Man-of-War, 1850

by Herman Melville

 

 

"Shut away in the deepest of closets, with no prying hands to disturb, those thoughts always inseparably connected to a wanderer soon bring delicious tears to the eye of solitude. "

After Chapter 42

 

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[Part 1 – Homeward Bound – I: Discharge/Bear Hug]

EXT. DOCKSIDE, NEW YORK – MORNING

A shrill boatswain’s WHISTLE sounds. In a moment, there is muffled excitement as SHOES pound the deck of the ship looming like a wall straight ahead. The USS Neversink, a Constitution-class warship, is discharging her crew. ^[1] SAILORS run down the gangplank to waiting FAMILY. The men drop duffle bags, run into embraces, and soon are swooping up their CHILDREN. Through the commotion, the lower flank from behind appears of a well-dressed man in a top hat. He waits like the still calm in the center of a storm. In another moment, REDBURN clears the crowd of sailors. He stops, blinks hard, and takes a deep breath. With his duffle bag strapped to his shoulder, he strides manfully, and without missing a beat, walks up and gives the man – his brother PETER – a bear hug.

 

EXT. STERN SECTION OF HUDSON RIVER FERRY – DAY

Slowly the din of excited VOICES fade, and blend into the soothing RUSTLE of water being moved by the paddle wheeler. REDBURN and PETER watch lower Manhattan recede into the distance. Now farmland and woods are on both banks of the Hudson, and birds fly and SING through the warm October air. They lean with elbows on the railing and watch the wide “V” the boat’s wake makes extending to either shore. Redburn is pensive.

 

BEGIN ‘EL MUSGO’ FLASHBACK:

 

■ Redburn and Queequeg lean on the railing of the ferry el Musgo. They laugh, joke, and have the quiet moment many lovers do when out in public, but feeling like there is no one else in the world.

 

END ‘EL MUSGO’ FLASHBACK.

 

PETER

So, brother – how was life on board

a U.S. man-of-war?

 

REDBURN

On the Neversink, Peter?

(looks sick to recall it)

It was six months of sheer hell.

 

[Part 1 – II: By the Nose]

EXT. MAIN DECK OF THE NEVERSINK – DAY

The ship is anchored off the port of Callao, Peru. The BOATSWAIN’S MATE stands at attention, and blows a loud volley on his whistle. Members of the CREW respond to the wordless order and run aft. BRIDEWELL, the mid-thirties First Lieutenant, strides ahead of REDBURN reciting numbers, and very occasionally referring to a small notebook he tries to hide from view in his palm. Redburn’s hands are free, but his attitude is bad; he has a short pencil with which he writes ‘his numbers’ on the cuff of his white jersey. Bridewell is officious, and seems quite bored and in a hurry; Redburn stumbles to keep up and not lose a number, but he has a hard time. There are many noisy, and some strikingly handsome distractions. Besides the shrill WHISTLES, shirtless and glowing MARINES fence with whooshing, and pinging cutlasses that glint in the sun; sailors grunt as they strain at the windlass; and odd RUMBLINGS from below decks vibrate up Redburn’s legs.

 

BRIDEWELL

From now on, you will answer to ‘crewman number four-seventy-eight.’ This is how you will be called for morning muster. Do you follow?

 

REDBURN

Yes, sir…four-seventy-eight….

 

BRIDEWELL

The number of your mess is fifteen; the number of your hammock is two-forty-six; the number of your gun is five – you will report to that station for general quarters. Got that?

 

REDBURN

(writes)

General quarters…gun number five….

 

BRIDEWELL

Yes. Your muster number is

one-thirty-nine—

 

Bridewell stops. Redburn nearly runs into him while making the note on his sleeve.

 

BRIDEWELL (CONT’D)

Do you have a chip on your shoulder?

(Redburn shrugs)

When you are assigned a post, you stay there! You stay there until death or an epaulet relieves you. Look, you have never served in the Navy before, so I will tell you, a man-of-war is a world apart. This ship is full as a nut, where public space is big, and private space is dark and dangerous, so – get used to it. Beware of scoundrels, predators, and of sob stories. Likewise, know that nobody wants to hear about your past, or you…

 

Bridewell turns and begins his quick stride again.

 

BRIDEWELL (CONT’D)

…Better believe every one of the five-hundred men on this floating cellblock has a past to beat yours.

 

Bridewell stops. He faces Redburn and wags a finger in his nose.

 

BRIDEWELL (CONT’D)

Whatever led you to your personal rock bottom of the heart, do not make the mistake of thinking you are unique.

 

[Part 1 – III: Opening Credits]

FADE IN: TITLE CARD: ”The Secret Melville, WHITE-JACKET, A Man at War”

While credits roll, the following small scenes play out.

 

 

BEGIN ‘SLICE OF LIFE’ SERIES OF SHOTS:

A) INT. GALLEY

The three Cook’s Mates – SUNSHINE, MAYDAY and ROSEWATER, young Black men in their early twenties – are inside the three large copper cauldrons. They are stripped to the waist, have pant cuffs rolled up to the knees, and are barefoot. Their skin glistens with perspiration as they polish the cooking surfaces with pumice stones and damp clothes. Sunshine, who is Dominican, leads them in song.

 

SUNSHINE

(SINGS)

”Oh, I lost my shoe in an old canoe,

Jump up, come on, whinny whoo –

For I lost my coat in old sail-boat

Jump up, come on, finney float.

 

SUNSHINE, MAYDAY and ROSEWATER

(SING)

“Then rub them coppers all day long!

Rubba dub dub; A-rubba dub dub,

Polish them coppers with our song!

Rubba dub dub; A-rubba dub dub,

Let’s scrub these kettles good and strong!

Rubba dub dub; A-rubba dub dub.

Scrubbing these coppers all day long!

Rubba dub dub; A-rubba dub dub.”

 

INT. COMMODORE’S CABIN

WULU helps the COMMODORE slip on his gold braided jacket. As the commander regards himself in the mirror, his late-twenties Polynesian Valet uses a coat brush to complete the man’s grooming. The Commodore is a lonely functionary, and isolated by position and self-considerations of his lofty standing.

C) EXT. MAIN DECK, NEAR GANGWAY

The MASTER-AT-ARMS, or the onboard police captain, watches members of the CREW porter items from the launch: crates of green produce, sides of fresh meat, casks of molasses, etc. They are all set into neat groupings on the deck. He spies a square crate with ”Purser” written on the side. After it is set down, and the man who brought it moves away, the Master-at-Arms meanders over to SCRIMMAGE, and whispers something in his ear while gesturing casually to the crate. LANDLESS and two other SAILORS suddenly come running past. They are nearly fall-down-drunk, and being chased by two of the Master-at-Arms’ officers, LEGS and POUNCE. The Master-at-Arms joins the chase, and catches Landless as he tries to go down the ladder to the launch. He cudgels him a few times, and soon all the drunk men are led away by the ‘law.’

D) INT. GUN DECK

SAILOR couples promenade arm-in-arm along the starboard side. They are scrubbed and in their Sunday best. They bend heads together and chat easily, nodding friendly greeting to other passing couples. On the port side, a few individual officers walk, including COLBROOK, the dashingly handsome Marines Corporal. A saber is pressed to his side as he strolls with cautiously envious looks to the ease of the enlisted men. The officers on his side do not bother with any friendly gestures to one another.

E) EXT. PURSER’S PASS-THROUGH WINDOW

REDBURN stands and talks to the PURSER’S MATE.

 

PURSER’S MATE

(officious)

There are no gregos or monkey jackets left. We are at the end of a three-year voyage. All of our coats have been issued. ^[2]

 

REDBURN

But, we’re rounding Cape Horn!

 

PURSER’S MATE

(annoyed)

Good sailors are resourceful.

 

REDBURN

(angrily thinks a moment)

How much for four yards of cotton duck?

 

PURSER’S MATE

Twenty-five cents a yard.

 

REDBURN

(taken back by the ‘highway-robbery’ price)

Give me three yards, and a sewing kit

with thread.

 

F) EXT. MAIN DECK, NEAR FORWARD HATCH

Teenage midshipman PERT locks confident eyes with handsome mid-twenties sailor SHAKINGS. Shakings is busy moving items from the launch piles to the hatch so they can be hoisted down into the hold. Pert paces with hands behind his back as if he were in charge of the operations. Shakings stops, draws out his dark-blue bandana and wipes his brow elaborately. He holds Pert’s eyes, then barely tucks the corner of his handkerchief into his right rear pocket. He turns and bends for the midshipman’s inspection. The young officer licks his lips in gratified response to his coded message.

G) INT. SICKBAY

PELICAN, the Surgeon’s Mate – who is about thirty-five, tall and lanky – supports SHENLEY while PARRIE dresses him for discharge. Although frail, Shenley acts like his partner is making too big a deal of his weakness. The couple are matched in looks and height, although Parrie is fifteen years younger than Shenley's fifty-five.

H) EXT. MAIN DECK

BRIDEWELL leads REDBURN around again. Now Redburn has a bundle of white fabric. Members of the CREW lounge about chess and checker cloths spread on the deck. Bridewell and Redburn have to sidestep them, and a bearded and dashing thirties-something JACK CHASE draws Redburn’s attention. Suddenly Bridewell stops, nearly making Redburn run into him, and hails the man.

 

BRIDEWELL

Jack, crewman number four-seventy-eight here is assigned to your mainmast top. I will send him to you later.

 

Jack touches the brim of his hat, and Bridewell moves on. Redburn glances at Jack and catches up to the First Lieutenant in a hurry.

 

REDBURN

And, who was that?

 

BRIDEWELL

A Brit, Jack Chase, Captain of the Mainmast Top. That will be your new home onboard the USS Neversink.

 

I) INT. LEE WAIST

OFFICERS, MARINES, midshipman BROWN, and a few members of the CREW stand around and cheer, whistle and hoot. Two semi-drunk and shirtless Irish SAILORS spar at ‘single-stick.’ They use the handle ends of gun rammers to try and knock each other on the head. There is discreet betting during the match between the officers.

J) INT. MIDSHIPMEN’S CABIN

Four of the total six teenage middies are alone. DASH is lying on his back near the edge of the communal table in the center of the room. His legs are in the air, and his trousers and drawers are by his ankles – which hover above his ears. SLIM is pressing them down from the back of his knees, and stands at Dash’s backside, also with his pants down. As he thrusts, Dash closes his eyes and makes pleasured grunts; Slim appears determined and losing his breath in exertion. BOAT PLUG, and MONTGOMERY stand nearby watching, and make encouraging statements like: ”Take it”; “Give it to him”; “He wants it”; etc. Suddenly the door handle RATTLES. Slim instantly steps back, and reaches for his clothing. Dash rolls on his side, and grabs for his drawers. MAD JACK, the firecracker Second Lieutenant, storms in.

 

MAD JACK

Young scallies! I’m astonished at you. What are you doing on the table there, Mr. Dash – without your pantaloons! And you, Mr. Slim, be so good as to do up your trousers. As for the rest of you – God damn it, you midshipmen; reefers; middies – what good are ya?! So help me God, sometimes I swear you were just put on this ship to chaw tobacco, drink hooch, rub aftershave into your hairless chins, and cuss at the sailors like you were grown men! Now, about your business, before I report ya.

 

Mad Jack turns in a huff, leaves and closes the door behind him.

 

EXT. MIDSHIPMEN’S CABIN DOOR

MAD JACK has just finished closing the door, and pauses with his head cocked to listen to the boys. He hears the middies YELL, LAUGH, and SHUSH each other from the other side. He smiles to himself to remember his own days as a midshipman.

 

K) EXT. CAPTAIN’S CABIN DOOR

The MASTER-AT-ARMS stands with SCRIMMAGE, who is holding the ‘purser’ crate. The Master-at-Arms knocks.

 

CAPTAIN CLARET (O.S.)

Come in.

 

END ‘SLICE OF LIFE’ SERIES OF SHOTS.

 

 

[Part 1 – IV: Love in the Cabin]

INT. CAPTAIN’S CABIN – DAY – LATER

The crate sits open on the table. Amid a spill of excelsior, a dozen bottles of Pisco brandy sit within the box. One bottle is open, and already loiters on the table one-third drained. Glasses CLINK. The shot pulls back to show CAPTAIN CLARET and the MASTER-AT-ARMS alone sharing a wordless toast. They toss back the booze, and afterwards, make guttural sighs of burning satisfaction. After their glasses are down, the Captain touches the side of the other man’s face briefly, but not before the Master-at-Arms rolls his cheek gently into the caress. The subordinate officer refills the glasses.

 

MASTER-AT-ARMS

To a safe run home, Captain Claret.

 

They drain their glasses again, but this time, Claret reaches for the bottle. He fills their glasses as he speaks.

 

CAPTAIN CLARET

Hum – that puts me in mind of Samuel Johnson – what did he say? ‘New wine for boys, but only port for men,’ and I might add, Pisco for real men! Mr. Bland, my Master-At-Arms, I raise my glass to you.

 

MASTER-AT-ARMS

(quickly drains his glass)

Well, I have more for you too.

 

He fishes around his pocket and pulls out something wrapped in a handkerchief. He opens it, extracts it, and then places a snuffbox in the Captain’s hand.

 

MASTER-AT-ARMS (CONT’D)

Can you read the inscription?

 

Claret examines the box. It is part of a sperm whale’s tooth, worked in Peruvian scrimshaw, and mounted with a band and lid of silver. Bringing it closer, he rotates the band.

 

CAPTAIN CLARET

(READS)

‘From Jonathan Bland to Captain Claret – Callao, Peru. April 16, 1845. Fondest Wishes.’

 

He tries to conceal his emotions.

 

CAPTAIN CLARET (CONT’D)

I won’t ask where you got the money

for such a gift.

 

The Master-at-Arms responds by taking the Captain’s glass, and setting both down on the table. Then he clasps Claret’s hands and draws him into a tender kiss. It’s brief and passionate, for before he knows it, the Captain has turned him to face the table, then gently – but firmly – leaned him forward. The Master-at-Arms’ hands spread over the tabletop as his cheek comes to rest on it. His lower torso jostles as the Captain undoes the man’s trousers from behind.

 

[Part 1 – V: Two Portraits]

INT. REDBURN’S COUNTRY HOME, PARLOR – DAY

Double doors stand open, revealing the front hall. Light pours through the front door as it opens. PETER steps in with REDBURN close behind. Peter continues down the hall, leaving Redburn to close the door and look around as if in a dream. He puts his bag down and slowly steps into the room. His eyes are fixed on something behind us, and he looks oddly sad. Redburn’s MOTHER and his sister EMILY shadow the doorway. He turns. His mother opens her arms and Redburn hugs her. Emily purses her lips and offers a handshake. As Peter joins them, Redburn pulls his sister into a vigorous hug.

 

MOTHER

(gestures behind us)

Your father would be so proud.

 

Redburn turns, and from his point of view, the portrait above the fireplace is of a distinguished man in his forties. He’s an older, but less world-worn version of Redburn.

 

INT. REDBURN’S COUNTRY HOME, BEDROOM

Alone in his room, REDBURN tosses his bag on the bed. There is a dresser with vanity mirror sitting on top, and on the wall opposite it, another portrait; this time of a younger man – a mirror-image of Redburn – but this is an image of his father when Redburn’s age. He goes to his dresser. He opens the mahogany box sitting on the shelf of the vanity mirror, and slowly extracts The Greenlander’s green and white scarf. He brings it to his nose and inhales deeply with eyes closed. He has a flash of the man giving it to him as he left the Highlander for the last time. He lays it around the outside of the box. He fishes in his pockets and brings out Yojo. He draws it to his lips and kisses it tenderly. He sets Queequeg’s Hei-tiki next to the scarf. He sees himself in the mirror. Making a boxing stance, he slowly brings his fist to the mirror, like Toby would be there to kiss his knuckles. He catches the eyes of the man in the portrait.

 

[Part 1 – VI: Pious]

INT. PHARMACY OF THE NEVERSINK – DAY

REDBURN enters PELICAN’s office still cradling his bundle of fabric. This is a somewhat small space, with a counter along the long wall opposite the door. Small drawers of herbs and medicines rise from the counter to the ceiling. The center of the room is dominated by a table large enough to accommodate a man laid flat. It is covered in a green baize cloth. Here Pelican sits, writing in his log.

 

PELICAN

(not looking up)

Yes?

 

REDBURN

Um, crewmember number four-seventy-eight reporting for a physical, sir.

 

PELICAN

(looking, and liking what he sees)

Humm – a new man, huh?

 

REDBURN

Aye, sir.

 

Pelican rises, brushes past Redburn and goes to the door. He slowly closes it, but his eyes stay on his patient.

 

PELICAN

Set your bundle down.

 

As Redburn looks for a spot, he hears the door lock: CLICK. He places the fabric on the table and watches the Surgeon’s Mate slowly lick his lips.

 

PELICAN (CONT’D)

Now, crewman four-seventy-eight, strip.

 

As Redburn begins to do as ordered, Pelican moves around the office asking questions. He rolls up his sleeves.

 

PELICAN (CONT’D)

How long in Callao?

 

REDBURN

One month.

 

PELICAN

Shipped in?

 

REDBURN

Aye, sir. Rescued from a ship. Stove by a whale—

 

PELICAN

Any illnesses since being in Peru?

 

REDBURN

No, sir.

 

Seen from the rear, Redburn is now naked. Pelican pushes the table against the wall, and has Redburn stand in the center of the room. Pelican puts his ear over Redburn’s heart, then thumps his chest, front and back.

 

PELICAN

Are any of your family consumptive?

 

REDBURN

(surprised)

Aye, sir. My older brother.

 

PELICAN

When was the last time you lived with him?

 

REDBURN

Three years, sir.

 

PELICAN

Well, you’re fine. Symptoms would have showed by now.

 

Pelican strikes Redburn in the ribs, and palpates his liver, which makes Redburn want to laugh.

 

PELICAN (CONT’D)

Do you ever feel a tendency of blood rushing to your head?

 

REDBURN

No….

 

PELICAN

Gouty?

 

REDBURN

(surprised)

No.

 

Pelican steps back.

 

PELICAN

Now, stand on one leg, and hold out the other horizontally.

 

Redburn does this ballet move, and watches Pelican lick his lips again.

 

REDBURN

What do they call you, sir?

 

PELICAN

(gesturing for him to put his leg down)

The men call me Pelican.

 

REDBURN

Are you the ship’s surgeon?

 

PELICAN

The Surgeon’s Mate.

 

REDBURN

(eyes smile)

But, why do the men call you ‘Pelican?’ Tall and lanky, sir?

 

PELICAN

No. It’s because I have a copious mouth.

 

He goes to stand only inches from Redburn’s face, then slowly sinks to his knees. Redburn has a physical reaction as the Surgeon’s Mate massages his calves and thighs.

 

PELICAN (CONT’D)

(gazing up)

But, tell me – crewman four-seventy-eight – are you…pious?

(his hands work)

Oh. Never mind. I can see that you are not.

 

Redburn is pushed against the counter, where Pelican begins to pleasure him. Apparently Pelican is skilled, for Redburn needs to kick his hands back on the countertop to brace himself. A breath catches in his throat, and his eyes close. Soon his head lolls in intense pleasure.

 

[Part 1 – VII: The White Jacket]

EXT. MAIN DECK OF THE NEVERSINK – DAY – LATER

REDBURN wanders alone on deck. He hugs his fabric close to this chest; he looks lost, then he remembers he should look “tough.”

 

 

BEGIN ‘MAKING THE JACKET’ SERIES OF SHOTS:

A) Redburn finds a clear spot. Men around him play chess and checkers.

He spreads out his fabric and makes an outline of a jacket pattern. He

begins to cut, kneeling on his cloth as he goes. He keeps a wary eye out for his crewmates.

C) Begin voiceover; shots continue of him making his jacket, which turns out to be an identical twin to the shooting jacket we first saw him wear in Redburn – only the color differs.

 

REDBURN (V.O.)

How could I not feel in the bareness of my soul that I was going home a failure? As I cut and sewed this jacket, its whiteness goaded me. A purity of feeling that any amount of sacrifice others offered for me would never be enough to save me from a doomed fate. On the whiteness of the jacket, like the whiteness of the whale, a cruelty waited in kind to remind me that Nature wins out in the end. Queequeg’s love may have prevented me from drowning, but what’s to save my spirit from suffering like the walking dead? And Toby, I did not find thee. I do not know if you are alive or dead – so, we both hover in limbo. Bitter fate ever overtakes us unfortunates.

 

D) The checkers men pack up their cloth boards two-by-two, and

leave. He sits and sews; stands and sews; tests sleeves and the vest section on his torso. It begins to grow late in the afternoon.

E) As eight bells slowly STRIKE, Redburn stands and stretches elbows

and shoulders within in his completed jacket.

F) Mess cloths are laid down; men assemble.

 

END ‘MAKING THE JACKET’ SERIES OF SHOTS.

 

 

[Part 1 – VIII: Messmates]

EXT. MAIN DECK OF THE NEVERSINK

Groups of ten to twelve members of the CREW pool sociably about their respective mess cloths. Apron-wearing MESS COOKS begin to arrive with pots of steaming meat. REDBURN, wearing his new coat, asks the nearest group.

 

REDBURN

Where is mess number…

(looks at his cuff)

…Fifteen?

 

A SAILOR makes a sour and vague gesture. Redburn tries again.

 

REDBURN (CONT’D)

Mess number fifteen?

 

Redburn hears a man WHISTLE. He looks around. LEMSFORD is waving him over. He goes and sits by the wavy-haired and bearded thirty-something fellow. As they chat, the food is dished out. There are ten total in this mess group.

 

REDBURN (CONT’D)

Thanks, matey!

 

LEMSFORD

Lemsford. Just signed?

 

REDBURN

Aye.

 

LEMSFORD

Done with the world?

 

REDBURN

The Pacific, at least.

 

LEMSFORD

Me too.

(RECITES)

”Fair the sun that will always set

On the western edge of regret.”

 

REDBURN

Who said that?

 

LEMSFORD

I did. Just now.

 

REDBURN

(chuckles in good spirits)

A poet?

 

LEMSFORD

Aye, I keep my mind active through the long tedium. And, I can tell you are a thinking man too….

 

SCRIMMAGE, a hardscrabble, disreputable-looking middle-aged man, draws their attention by staring at them. He sits on an overturned match tub. He is barefoot and has his trouser cuffs and sleeves rolled up. On his left sits PATRICK, who is a youth with Irish-looking features. This young man gives Redburn a brief smile and nod.

  

SCRIMMAGE

(to the assembly)

Now, men, you can’t have h’any butter today. Twig that coat! I’m savin’ it up for tomorrow – it’s duff day. You, newcomer, take that hoof of yours off the cloth!

(fake laugh)

Some chaps h’aint got no more manners than swine.

(Redburn grows hot while the others laugh; Scrimmage tells him)

H’and greenhorns don’t get cheese first week – in case they jump ship – then the rest of us get it.

(to the others, with a jovial passing of full plates)

Quick men, quick! Break hardtack and scoff – there’s plenty!

 

Redburn gets a plate; he stares down as a hunk of gray meat and some hardtack. He picks at it, and eats some reluctantly.

 

SCRIMMAGE (CONT’D)

(to Patrick)

Twig that jacket – he’s puttin’ on h’airs.

 

PATRICK

Aw, Scrimmage, leave off.

 

SCRIMMAGE

Eat up, boys – scoff! I’ve got better things to do than sit on this here tub h’and watch you scurvy lot chow down. Newbie! You ever make duff before?

 

Redburn shakes his head.

 

SCRIMMAGE (CONT’D)

Thought so. When your turn comes up in rotation to be mess cook, you better learn quick. Believe me, it’s a thankless job, h’and your turn’s coming.

(to Patrick)

You know, I think…that jacket’s so youngin’ here can pilfer from the galley.

(to Redburn)

Eh? A little sly of hand – some salt, some sugar – profit on the side?

 

LEMSFORD

Enough, Scrimmage. I seem to remember one of your puddings was dense enough to drown a man.

 

PATRICK

Yeah – we thought we’d tie it around your neck and get rid of both of you overboard at the same time!

 

The men laugh, and Scrimmage intensifies a dislike for Redburn.

 

SCRIMMAGE

(to Patrick)

Well, watch that one, will ya?

 

PATRICK

(sly smile)

Maybe I will.

 

LEMSFORD

(to Patrick – chuckling)

You’re lucky your Jack’s not

the jealous type.

 

[Part 1 – IX: Hero Worship]

EXT. MAINTOP OF THE NEVERSINK – NIGHT

The mainmast ‘top’ is a railed-in platform about ten by twenty feet. Six SAILORS of the watch are divided into two camps. One of which, including middle-aged BALDY, lounges comfortably on old sails bunched up here and there as sofas. Leaning against their laps, thighs – or in their arms – lie the other half. Doffed jackets provide mutual blankets, and the men serving as pillows stroke their mate’s hair, or cheeks, or otherwise cement the intimate bonds of their partnerships. REDBURN, withdrawn, sits with his back against the railing and his knees drawn up to his chest. JACK CHASE stands and admires the lights of Callao, which are about a half-mile in the distance. Redburn notes how the stars above them twinkle. Jack turns to his crew, folds arms and leans his backside on the railing. It is a warm and beautiful night.

 

JACK CHASE

Wherever we ocean-wanderers rove, we are still accompanied by those old circumnavigators, the stars.

 

Some offer ”Hear; hear!” Jack moves along the platform, preaching to the choir.

 

JACK CHASE (CONT’D)

The stars are shipmates and fellow sailors to us. They sail in the blue of heaven as we upon the azure main.

 

More repeat ”Hear; hear!” Jack steps up to Redburn.

 

JACK CHASE (CONT’D)

They lure us mariners to the deep, and glaze our watery sepulcher with their cold light.

 

Amid more ”Hear; hears!”, Jack squats right in front of Redburn’s face.

 

JACK CHASE (CONT’D)

It is a fine feeling to study the stars upon the face of the deep; to fuse us into the light of the universe, and make us a part of the All.

 

Redburn smiles helplessly. Jack winks and rises. One of the older sailors speaks up.

 

BALDY

Cheers for our Captain of the Top! Jack Chase, even your enemies hate themselves for grudging against you!

 

Amid another round of ”Hear; hear!”, Jack takes an elaborate bow.

 

BALDY (CONT’D)

Will we shove off soon, Jack?

 

JACK CHASE

Aye, and very soon, but it will be bad times. As our anchor weighs, the men will sober up and withdraw in pain. Tensions will rise on an evil time when the supply of smuggled liquor evaporates.

 

BALDY

Still, to be homeward bound….

 

JACK CHASE

So, young man, did you see Pelican today?

 

The sailors snicker.

 

REDBURN

Aye.

 

JACK CHASE

And did he ‘treat’ you well?

 

There is open laughter.

 

REDBURN

(brows knitted in good humor)

Aye – that he did.

 

JACK CHASE

Yes. He won’t tend to any of us anymore, but get him near fresh government-issued chicken, and he chows right down.

 

Redburn joins in with the others’ laughter.

 

JACK CHASE (CONT’D)

Ship long, lad?

 

REDBURN

Since I was nineteen.

 

JACK CHASE

And, going home?

 

REDBURN

(sad)

Aye. I’m done. Say, have any of you shipped with a New Yorker; about my height, with dark curly hair? Goes by ‘Toby.’ He’s very…good looking.

 

There is a general and quiet passing of headshakes; Jack gets it now. He is attracted to Redburn and his suffering.

 

JACK CHASE

Well, lads, to be homeward bound means to forget your troubles and past. And my fine young friend, and fellow traveler under and amongst the stars, needs a moniker – see, we give everyone a nickname – so from now on, lad…

 

Jack makes Redburn stand; raises him like a boxer by latching onto his upper arms.

 

JACK CHASE (CONT’D)

…Until we cross the Narrows into New York – a mere twelve thousand miles from this spot – ‘White-Jacket’ you shall be.

 

_