Portsmouth, December, 1787.
I looked upon the vessel
that was to take me to the Island of Tahiti.
A destination so far from England
that one couldn't go farther
without starting to come home.
And the length of the journey was equaled
by the importance of its mission.
What could be more vital
than to find and cultivate
a nourishing new food
that cost nothing to grow?
A blessing for the poor,
the hungry of the world.
It was a mission close to my heart.
And it was I who had been chosen
from amongst
all the gardeners in England.
Oh, beg pardon.
Can you tell me if this boat is the Bounty?
- Boat, did you say?
- Yes.
- A boat! It's a ship, you landlubber.
- Hey, what kind of a seaman's this?
- He's a peddler.
- You selling something, chum?
I'm not a peddler. I'm a gardener.
Assistant Botanist at
the Royal Botanical Gardens at Kew.
You know Kew Gardens, of course.
Kew's outside London.
You lost your way, mate.
Well, I haven't lost my way if this boat,
I beg your pardon,
if this ship is the Bounty.
Aye, it's the Bounty, all right.
Then, perhaps one of you gentlemen
could tell me where I sign on?
I wonder what a gardener's
doing onboard, huh?
Gonna plant roses
in me hammock, are you?
Good thing, too, the way you smell.
Hold on, hold on. Look. Empty pots.
I know. We're going to Tahiti
to fill them with something, right?
Well, one usually fills empty pots
with something.
- What'd you got here? Little telescope?
- Be careful, please.
These are scientific documents.
Agronomy records.
- They're what?
- Agronomy records.
They're sketches, really.
- Sketches?
- Sketches of breadfruit.
- Breadfruit?
- Breadfruit?
You mean, where we're going,
bread grows on trees?
Bread trees.
That's daft enough for a shipload, eh?
There's nothing daft about breadfruit.
It is a very real food. A staple, like wheat.
- Here.
- Goofy-looking weed.
It's funny that nobody's
ever heard of this before, then.
No one ever heard of the potato
until Sir Francis Drake
brought it from South America.
It altered European economy.
Breadfruit may alter it again.
I wonder what it tastes like.
The West Indies Company
plans to feed it to the slaves in Jamaica
no matter what it tastes like.
But then, if it becomes popular,
they'll feed it to the world.
Gentlemen, we're about to embark
on a very momentous journey.
Personally, I'm proud to be part of it.
Now, where do I sign on?
I'll show you. Come along with me.
Breadfruit? Did you ever hear
of that? A breadfruit?
Now come on, love, you got me money.
What more do you want?
- But when do you get paid?
- Now, come on, love. Get off the ship.
Hey, Scratch.
Sign on me mate here, will you?
Make your mark right there.
Captain coming aboard!
He was master of the Resolution
under Captain Cook.
- What's he like?
- A hard one.
- I sailed under him.
- But he walks like a sailor, anyway.
- Mr. Fryer.
- Captain, sir.
- How is the crew shaping?
- A prime lot, I'd say, sir.
- And all volunteers.
- Good.
I'd like my chest brought aboard,
Mr. Fryer.
If you have a sober hand
who can be trusted not to desert.
At your service, sir.
Mills is a good man, sir.
Remain by my cabin.
I'll have other errands.
Aye, aye, sir.
Come on, give me a hand, mate.
You're not backward
in pushing yourself forward, are you?
You keep your pork-nose where it belongs
and give me a hand
with the Captain's gear.
Well, don't be touchy, mate.
Got a long voyage ahead, you know.
That's true. There it is.
Always speak up
for the easy tasks in port,
to be spared the difficult ones at sea.
What's this? A Royal visit?
That's Mr. Christian's carriage, sir.
Is it, now?
So, I've had a career fop
palmed onto me as a first mate.
- You haven't met him yet, sir?
- He was assigned only yesterday.
Moorechild was my choice.
He was taken ill
with some malady or other.
Aye, nothing compares with a woman
washed all over,
smelling like a Frenchman.
Fletcher Christian, Lieutenant,
come aboard to join, sir.
Lieutenant Christian.
You are a naval lieutenant, I presume?
Yes. Please forgive my appearance, sir.
I was staying with friends in the country
when my orders reached me.
- So, I came directly.
- I see.
- This is Mr. Fryer, our sailing master.
- Oh, yes.
- Nice to see you again, Mr. Fryer.
- Same to you, Mr. Christian.
Yes, we sailed together.
Let me show your men your cabin.
Your pardon, sir.
You've come none too soon.
Please be about your duties without delay.
Your indulgence, sir.
I have two charming friends here
who insist upon seeing me to my ship.
And they also insist
upon meeting the Captain.
They say it's important.
- Very well.
- Thank you.
- Hello, Ned.
- Fletcher.
- How are you?
- I'd heard you were going to be with us.
- Yes. We'll be together.
- What luck.
- Well, if you'll excuse me.
- Certainly.
We'll dine together.
Wonderful lad.
His mother's a great friend of the family.
Lady Young. Wonderful horsewoman, also.
Trains them herself, if you can imagine.
I'll try.
I'm sorry, Madam. I do not speak French.
Oh, for shame, Captain.
That's uncivilized of you.
I humbly apologize.
May I present Captain Bligh,
the Lady Gwendolyn Arbast.
- Milady.
- Delighted to meet you, Captain.
May I compliment you upon your
distinguished record of command?
The compliment's
slightly premature, Milady.
This is my first captaincy.
- The first of many, I'm sure.
- Thank you.
Good luck, Captain.
Come along, Therese.
Excuse me, sir.
No, don't bother
to come with us, Fletcher.
Last minute attentions are always hollow
and you are insincere to start with.
Oh, dear.
Well, sir,
I understand we're taking this river scow
halfway round the world
on a grocer's errand.
I take a somewhat different view.
So do their Lordships of the Admiralty.
- Do they really? How extraordinary.
- Tell me,
what is a man of your particular interests
doing in the navy?
Oh, process of elimination.
There's something dusty about the army
and affairs of state are rather a bore.
You know, one must do something.
Here's a fellow
trying to catch your eye, sir.
Looks like an embalmer.
Beg pardon, sir. Might I have a word?
- Are you our gardener from Kew?
- Yes, sir. Brown, sir.
- Good. Found your quarters yet?
- No, sir.
Get him a good billet.
This is the most important man aboard.
- Aye, aye, sir.
- Well, I'm hardly that, but thank you, sir.
I have a message for you, sir,
from our chief botanist.
Well, what is it?
He has reached the conclusion that
the breadfruit has a dormant period, sir.
According to his experiments,
it begins some time in October.
A dormant period?
Four or five months
when the fruit cannot be transplanted.
The cuttings die.
Well, October's some way off.
That shouldn't worry us,
unless your botanist
is wrong about the date.
Exactly, sir.
- Mr. Christian.
- Yes, sir?
Oh, sir,
does it really matter
when these vegetables arrive in Jamaica?
It matters to the tune
of L1,000 a day, Mr. Christian.
My word,
that is an impressive amount, yes.
The West India merchants
are impressed by it.
So is the Admiralty. And so am I.
It is my intention
to land our cargo in Jamaica,
as far ahead of the Admiralty's timetable
as is humanly possible.
Yes. Well, one can understand that.
Doing so, one can look forward
to promotions and even honors.
And all that, yes.
I will do exactly all that, Mr. Christian.
Which brings me
to the subject of yourself.
I will tolerate nothing less
than a man's best efforts,
officer or seaman.
Highborn connections
are no substitute for hard work.
No, indeed they're not, sir.
But, personally, I see no reason
why a good officer
cannot be a gentleman, as well.
- Do you disagree, sir?
- Not if he's first a good officer.
It's a debatable point,
but a good subject
for a dinner's conversation.
But I'm keeping Mr. Brown waiting.
And I mustn't neglect
the most important man on our ship.
Excuse me, sir.
Hello, Brown.
- Make ready for sail, Mr. Christian.
- Aye, aye, sir.
Hands to stations for leaving harbor!
Aye, aye, sir!
All hands to stations for leaving harbor!
All hands on deck!
All hands to stations for leaving harbor!
All right, now, heavy on it!
Step round.
Let go and hold!
Ship ready for sea, sir.
Set topsails and headsails. Starboard tack.
Set topsails and headsails.
Set topsails and headsails!
Set gallants!
- Set gallants!
- Sheet home!
Set royals!
Set royals!
Midships, steady as she goes.
- Bos'n's mate!
- Aye, sir?
Pipe up spirits.
Up spirits!
Watch below,
muster for grog on the upper deck!
Hey, Mills.
Mr. Christian wants a word with you
on the quarterdeck.
The fact is,
I'm a little slow sometimes and...
- Good afternoon, sir.
- Good afternoon.
Mack here is reporting a theft.
- What? Already?
- Aye, sir.
Carry on with your investigations.
Seaman Mills at your service, sir.
No labor too long, no job too hard, sir.
Well, you're a light-hearted fellow,
as well as a light-fingered one.
Sir?
It seems that in a moment of exuberance,
you stole two 25-pound cheeses.
I stole two 25-pound cheeses, sir?
You wish to deny it?
Well, speak up, Mills.
Why, yes I do, sir. Of course. Certainly, sir.
First of all, sir,
I'd be grateful to know who's accusing me.
Yes, of course. This observant chap here
says he saw you take them
before we left Portsmouth.
Well, he saw wrong, sir.
Or else he's a bloody liar.
- Are you a bloody liar? Answer freely.
- No, sir.
I saw him take them those two cheeses
with me own eyes.
Mr. Christian, testing one man's word
against another's is an empty procedure.
List the shortage as unsolved theft
and stop the men's cheese ration
- until the deficit is made up.
- As you say, sir.
- Well, that'll be all, Mills.
- Thank you, sir.
Was there something further
you wished to discuss?
Early Renaissance sketching, perhaps?
No, sir. Sorry, sir.
Let it lay, whatever it is. Let it lay.
- I got a little score to settle.
- Look, son, this is a small ship.
Fill it with grudges
and there'd be no room left to live in.
And you're listening to 30 years at sea.
You don't preach to me, McCoy,
and I won't preach to you. All right?
It's a good bargain,
with you the loser.
You can thank
your good friend Mills for this.
Now, this is the way it's gonna be.
Captain's orders.
There'll be no cheese issue
until the shortage is made up.
You understand? And you?
So we've got a bootlicker onboard, eh?
A troublemaker.
- It wasn't my fault.
- Hey, what's the matter?
I don't like to be called a thief, that's all.
- A thief?
- A thief, that's right.
I'll teach you a lesson.
- Squealing on the boys.
- Hey!
I like a bit of cheese with my grub.
Maybe it's you
who should take the licking.
Now look here.
It was the Captain asked me
take the cheeses to his home, as a favor.
It's always the same in this blasted navy.
You do a job for an officer like that,
you're called a thief.
And the crew lose their cheeses.
- So, you did the Captain a favor, eh?
- It was the Captain.
The Captain helping himself
to the ship's stores.
- Hey.
- The Captain's the thief, not me!
The Articles of War
provide most adequately
for a man who calls his Captain a thief.
I think a few weeks without grog
will teach him to hold his tongue.
No. Two dozen with the lash
will teach him better still.
All hands to witness punishment.
Mr. Christian, if you please.
"If any officer, mariner or soldier,
in or belonging to the fleet,
"shall behave himself
with contempt to his superior officer,
"such superior officer
being in the execution of his office,
"he shall be punished
according to the nature of his offense."
Two dozen lashes.
Ship's company, on hats.
You just remember,
it ain't me that's whipping you.
Don't worry, I'll live.
You know, mate, it ain't me. Remember.
Stop worrying. You're making me nervous.
Lay on, Quintal.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
- Six.
- You're going too lightly, Quintal.
Lay on with a will or you'll take his place.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
Ten.
Eleven.
Twelve.
You were ordered to witness punishment.
You can't turn away.
Thirteen.
Fourteen.
Fifteen.
Sixteen.
Seventeen.
Eighteen.
Nineteen.
Twenty.
Twenty-one.
Twenty-two.
Twenty-three.
Twenty-four.
Company dismissed!
Lay away lee braces!
You are not eating, Mr. Young.
- With your permission, I'm not hungry, sir.
- Permission denied.
We'll not have food wasted.
- Eat your supper.
- Aye, sir.
Not a very sociable group tonight.
As a matter of fact, sir,
I was about to make a remark
when you spoke.
You're pardoned.
Something troubling you, Mr. Christian?
No, sir. It's nothing. I just...
Well, I don't feel my cheeriest after
watching a man take a severe lashing.
Pass Mr. Young the potatoes, please.
You've witnessed punishment
before, surely.
Go ahead, speak your mind.
Well, sir, since you ask, it's...
It's the question of degree
that troubles me.
You see, if one flogs a man half to death
for a minor infraction,
then how does one punish him
for a serious offense?
Minor infraction, you said?
Yes. I think that two cheeses, sir...
Plus the word "thief"
applied to his Captain.
But you still feel, though,
that stopping the man's grog
was sufficient punishment?
Well, I agree with you.
- You agree?
- Eat it up. Excellent stew.
If we were concerned
with only the one case, certainly.
- Well, I don't know...
- Hear me.
You will, all of you, no doubt
command your own ships some day.
Let us suppose
that your vessel is running in heavy seas.
The shrouds are covered with ice.
A gale is blowing.
It becomes necessary, in your opinion,
to order a seaman aloft.
He realizes, of course,
that if his fingers slip from the icy shrouds
for a split second,
he'll perish immediately.
Now, this is a typical seaman,
a half-witted, wife-beating,
habitual drunkard.
His whole life is spent evading
and defying authority.
Tell me, sir.
What is it that makes this man go aloft?
I think, depending on the man, sir,
any number of things.
You can put it in one word. Fear.
Fear of what you'll do to him.
Fear of punishment so vivid in his mind
that he fears it even more
than sudden death.
Now don't mistake me.
I'm not advising cruelty or brutality
with no purpose.
My point is that cruelty with purpose
is not cruelty.
It's efficiency.
But a man will never disobey you
once he's watched
his mate's backbone laid bare.
He'll remember
those white ribs staring at him,
he'll see the flesh jump
and hear the whistle of the whip
for the rest of his life.
Well, perhaps you're right, sir.
I'd be careful of that cheese
if I were you, sir.
It has a peculiar smell.
I think it's a bit tainted.
But then, of course,
it's a question of individual taste.
It's damn good port.
In the following weeks,
Captain Bligh worked the ship
for every furlong of gain it could give.
Every inch of canvas spread,
and God help the helmsman
if the wake were not arrow-straight.
Captain Bligh must've asked me
the same question a score of times.
"What day saw the beginning
of the breadfruit's dormant period?"
I told him repeatedly,
I could not name the exact date
for lack of knowing it.
It became clear he'd begun to worry
lest we arrive too late.
He studied his charts hour on hour,
I could not imagine why.
I'd been told there was only one way
to get to the other side of the world.
The long way,
around the Cape of Good Hope
at the bottom of Africa.
That was the course with favoring winds.
As for the other route,
the westward passage around the Horn,
while arithmetic said "yes" to that,
weather said "no."
May I share your merriment?
Just a pleasantry, sir. It was nothing.
Mayn't I be included?
Well, it was just the way
you were walking, sir.
It reminded me of a mutual friend,
Lord Folkestone.
- Do continue.
- Well, that's all, sir.
What was the resemblance?
Well, you just both have
this distinctive walk, sir.
Really? In what way distinctive?
Well, he was kicked by a horse, sir.
I'd rather not say where, sir.
It had the effect
of making him walk most oddly.
Poor fellow.
I see.
You may make yourself comfortable
at the masthead, Mr. Young.
Please remain there until I summon you.
Aye, sir.
Don't repeat that mistake, Mr. Christian.
I'm not a figure of fun.
Indeed, you're not, sir.
- Make the course south southwest, please.
- Aye, aye, sir.
Bos'n's mate!
- Did you say south southwest, sir?
- I did.
- Lee braces!
- Lee braces it is, sir!
- Down helm.
- Down helm, sir!
- Hold her steady south southwest.
- South southwest, sir.
- Take away those weather sheets!
- Aye, aye, sir.
Going around the Horn
will take five months off our journey.
Well, we shall have ourselves
quite a little adventure.
What amuses you now?
I was just thinking, sir,
that our little errand for groceries
might wind up in a page of naval history.
If we succeed in negotiating the Horn
in the dead of winter.
Why shouldn't we succeed?
Admiral Anderson did.
Yes, but of course he didn't choose
to attempt it in a 91-foot chamber pot.
In any event,
his was the only ship to do it,
and I believe
he lost 50 percent of his crew.
You might point that out to the crew.
It should improve their performance.
Remember, fear is our best weapon.
Good night, sir.
- When should I recall Mr. Young, sir?
- When I come on deck in the morning.
I want to see how comically he walks.
Poor fellow.
But, perhaps, in the morning, sir,
he won't be able to walk at all.
Perhaps.
Good night, sir.
Good fellow.
Begging your pardon, sir.
Are we really making for the Horn?
Yes, evidently.
May Heaven protect us.
I was in Admiral Anderson's ship, sir.
Were you, really?
Did you find it interesting?
Interesting, sir?
It was like riding a cork
over a waterfall, sir.
And wind is not the name
for what blows in your face.
It's something made of iron,
swings at you from the west,
never changing, day in and day out.
With seas as high as the mainmast.
We had lifelines rigged everywhere, sir,
and there were still 16 men
washed overboard.
Cold?
Three men froze in the yards.
Frozen stiff, sir.
Couldn't get them down without cutting
their fingers loose from the shrouds.
I was lucky.
Well, that's the Horn for you, sir.
A delightful passage.
Good morning, sir.
And good morning to you, Ned.
Did you sleep well?
- My hands, I can't move them at all.
- Steady.
Easy, Ned.
- There's no feeling in them, Fletcher.
- Easy, Ned. Easy, Ned.
None at all.
Can't you understand? Absolute...
You're being undignified.
Yes, of course. I'm sorry.
Come along.
I don't think I can walk very well, Fletcher.
Well, don't be self-conscious.
We shall probably
all walk like Lord Folkestone
before this voyage is over.
There you are.
Very good, Ned. Very good.
She's straining badly, sir.
Yes, I'll have the t'gallants off of her,
Mr. Morrison.
Watch on deck, t'gallants fore line!
Bos'n's mate, call all hands!
All hands on deck!
Step lively, now. Come on.
Jump to it!
Try again...
Come on, let's get on with it!
We don't want be here if this stick breaks!
I think that's better, sir.
I have seen this storm.
Afraid of a little weather, Mr. Christian?
Set the t'gallants again.
But, you see, sir,
the masts are straining, sir.
- You arguing with me?
- By no means, sir.
I was simply answering your question.
- Mr. Morrison, set the t'gallants again!
- Aye, sir!
All right, you men.
Up aloft and set the t'gallants again.
Any excuse to retard our progress, eh,
Mr. Christian?
But you wrong me, sir,
if you believe that
I would willfully obstruct our progress.
Come now, why don't you admit
you wouldn't lift a finger to speed it?
But that's absurd, sir.
Why should I not wish to do my best?
Because you are
the sort of self-styled gentleman
who thinks only one thought.
You feel only one emotion, contempt.
Contempt for effort, for ambition,
for anyone born
less fortunate than yourself.
You are poisoned with contempt,
Mr. Christian,
and it makes you useless to me.
But I assure you, sir,
that the execution of my duties
is entirely unaffected
by my private opinion of you.
Be certain of that, Mr. Christian.
Be most entirely certain.
Land ho!
Land ho!
Prepare the ship for heavy weather,
if you please.
Aye, aye, sir.
Bos'n, prepare the ship for heavy weather!
Aye, aye, sir!
Ahoy, below!
Breakers dead ahead!
They ain't no breakers. They're combers.
Two oceans meeting head on.
Lend a hand, Norman.
Captain's orders to wear ship,
Mr. Christian!
- Do so!
- Aye, aye, sir!
All hands on deck! Come on!
Come on, come on. All hands lay aloft!
We've only just come below.
Listen here, what's he think he's doing?
Come on, come on!
The forward storeroom, sir!
A barrel has broken loose.
- Take over, Mr. Fryer!
- Aye, aye, sir!
Up helm!
Up helm!
Quickly there. Move!
Mills, Norman, Bennet...
Watch it!
Bennet!
Wait a moment. Go tell Mr. Fryer
to let her run before the wind.
Right!
We've got to get a lash on it.
- Mr. Fryer, sir.
- What is it, Mills?
Mr. Christian said,
let her run before the wind.
Before the wind?
We can't lash the barrels
until she steadies.
- All right, go below.
- Right you are, sir.
- Midships to helm!
- Midships to helm!
Quintal, stand away.
Now hold off till she steadies.
Hold her steady before the wind!
All right, she's steady.
Norman, Quintal, get a lash on that cask.
Pass me a line!
What the hell are you doing, Mr. Fryer?
Mr. Christian's orders, sir.
Barrel broke loose...
- Put the helm over instantly!
- But Mr. Christian's below, sir,
- with a work party.
- Put the helm over!
- Down with helm.
- Down with helm, it is, sir.
Idiots!
Secure those barrels.
Easy now, easy.
Careful.
Gently now.
Move him carefully.
I'll get the medicine chest.
- He's dead.
- Mr. Christian!
Mr. Christian!
Are you deaf as well as irresponsible?
I demand an explanation.
I thought she was holding
steadily enough, sir.
I ordered Norman under a water cask...
Never mind Norman. Answer me.
Never mind Norman, sir?
There was no justification
in your ordering the ship hove to.
We lost a full league
before I could countermand your order,
one full league!
- You countermanded my order, sir?
- Now, you heed me well, Mr. Christian.
We are embarked upon a King's mission.
Any further attempt at sabotage
and I will deal with you as a traitor.
When you countermanded that order, sir,
you crushed the life
out of Thomas Norman.
I suppose you would halt the ship again
for his burial service.
Since we are not at war, sir,
I would hope to give him a decent burial.
Yes, sir.
I am at war.
Against ill winds, contrary currents
and incompetent officers.
You'd best join my war, Mr. Christian,
for if I don't start winning soon,
the casualty list will be real enough.
Aye, aye, sir!
I make our position here
by dead reckoning.
If that's right, sir,
another three weeks will see us through.
We'll get through.
The pumps holding their own?
- Aye, sir.
- Good.
We'll go on the other tack now.
Tack ship, if you please.
Aye, aye, sir.
All hands on deck!
Tack ship! Come on, Williams, up top!
- Gently, gently.
- Get up, the Horn waits for no man.
He'll drown the lot of us.
I know the way that man's mind works.
- I felt it on my back.
- Stop your grousing.
Portsmouth or Cape Horn,
it's all one to a seaman.
Well, it can't stay overcast forever, sir.
Four weeks blind tacking is forever,
Mr. Fryer, and you know it!
Other tack, wear ship!
Downwind in this weather, sir,
is very dangerous.
We have no choice!
- Weather braces!
- Aye, aye, sir!
Starboard watch on deck!
Starboard watch on deck!
All hands on deck!
What's the matter?
Up helm!
Steer two points to starboard!
Be ready to reverse your helm!
Lay away lee braces! All the way!
All the way weather braces!
We're back where we started
four weeks ago!
Bad news, sir.
Your cabin's completely awash.
The pumps are barely able
to hold their own, sir.
We've lost, Mr. Fryer.
- Make way for the Cape of Good Hope.
- Aye, aye, sir!
Lay away lee braces!
Downward off the mizzen.
Here, here, here. What's all this, then?
That, old son, is half a ration of meat.
- What do you mean half a ration?
- Captain's orders.
Orders! You dish up a full plate of that
or I'll cut your curls off.
I don't make the rules, I just dish the stuff.
That's all you're gonna get,
you'd better take it.
He's right.
Half-rations are better than none at all.
- Why half-rations? What for?
- Make up time, I suppose.
Well, starving a man
doesn't make the ship go no faster.
It saves stopping for stores, doesn't it?
Oh, so to catch up a couple of weeks,
we starve all the way to Tahiti, eh?
I'll tell you one thing,
it's against the regulations.
Regulations?
If we can be flogged by the regulations,
we can be fed by them.
Good. You convinced me.
Now, go and convince the Captain.
All right.
Anybody coming along with me?
- To see the Captain?
- That's right, the Captain.
You sure it's regulation?
How do you know?
Because I read them.
A sailor with an education,
like a singing pig.
All right, I'm with you.
What are you men
doing in these quarters?
I brought them, sir.
They wish to state a complaint.
Let them do so.
Speak up.
I'm begging your pardon, sir.
We're sorry to disturb you, sir.
If this isn't a good moment, sir,
why, this is nothing that won't...
That won't keep a while, sir.
No, no, no. Please continue.
I'm always available to hear complaints.
Well, Captain, sir, we've...
We've come representing the whole crew.
It's about the half-rations, sir.
And they ain't right, sir.
I'd like to...
The crew would like to remind you, sir,
what it says in the regulations.
You dare to quote the regulations to me?
The regulations was made to go by, sir.
We don't mean no impertinence, sir.
But right is right, sir.
Five full months you've cost me,
you fumbling idlers.
Us? How, sir? What did we do?
This commission gave every man
in the ship's company
the key to opportunity,
the chance to show what he's made of.
Well, you've shown what you're made of.
Dirt and empty silk nightcaps.
Well, I thought I heard your voice, sir.
Good night.
So you want full rations, do you?
Well, I'll give you all the rations you need
to get us to Tahiti in time.
Now get out!
"All the rations you need
to get us to Tahiti on time. "
Those were Captain Bligh's words.
Rations of what, he didn't say.
But he soon showed us.
Rations of
his favorite commodity, punishment.
Served up to the tune
of his favorite music,
a cry of pain, a scream of agony.
That was the concert that played us
across three oceans
as the months vanished from the calendar.
And Captain Bligh's tension increased.
Three.
Come down on deck, you clumsy lubbers!
And that jib, hoist it taut.
Land ho!
Land ho!
This island is inhabited
by over 200,000 savages.
Eleven years ago,
when I was here with Captain Cook,
they were not dangerous.
However, the natives
of the Sandwich Islands
seemed friendly enough,
but without warning,
they turned on Captain Cook
and killed him.
We shall take all due military precautions.
In the event we find ourselves welcome,
you will discover that these savages
have absolutely no conception
of ordinary morality.
And you will, no doubt,
take full advantage of their ignorance.
It is a matter
of supernatural indifference to me
whether you contaminate the natives
or the natives contaminate you.
I have but one concern, our mission.
Let any one of you provoke an incident
which endangers it,
and I shall cause that man
to curse his mother for giving him birth.
Lee braces, Mr. Christian.
Stand by the anchor!
Let off.
Hoist out the launch. I shall want 12 men.
- Aye, aye.
- Mr. Fryer, give them muskets.
And arm another six men
and put them in the cutter.
At the first sign of treachery,
you will open fire
- and help us to retreat.
- Aye, aye, sir.
Select a work detail before you go ashore.
Advise Mr. Christian.
If our reception is friendly,
start gathering the plants right away.
One plant will be enough
to tell the story, sir,
but I shall have to find a specimen
that has sprouted from the root.
- Then instruct your men accordingly.
- Very good, sir.
No, not as a walking stick, Brown.
Bring the cutter in closer.
King George?
No, Your Excellency.
But King George ordered me
to pay his compliments to King Hitihiti.
I talk you talk. I go Captain Cook.
Visit many islands.
You Mr. Bligh. Me Minarii.
I know, I remember you well.
Our island pilot, and a fine one.
Oh, yes, very wonderful.
Will you please tell King Hitihiti
that King George
sends many tokens of friendship?
Hitihiti say, what he have,
King George want.
This is what we have come for,
Your Excellency, breadfruit.
That's right, uru.
King George wants his people
to be as strong as your people.
He wants your breadfruit to nourish them.
Hitihiti say take all breadfruit you want.
You are most grateful, Your Excellency.
Thank you.
Here you are, Brownie. This is one, isn't it?
No, no. Nothing like it.
Brown, is that it over there?
Right you are, sir.
Right you are.
Artocarpus incisa.
Isn't it amazing?
Such a delicate sprig
with the power to feed a continent.
You know, there's evidence to prove
that a diet of breadfruit
can sustain life all by itself.
Whose life? Not mine.
Lay on, Mills.
Watch your toes there.
They're like a string of live pearls.
- It must be some sort of game.
- Women only!
- Damn dull game.
- Oh, it has its possibilities.
Not a single man among them.
How many women
do you suppose are down there?
Enough.
Here! Do you think
we need to tell the others?
Look at those, fellows.
They're flogging the water.
- What they do?
- Chase fish for feast.
You like go?
Go ask him. Go on.
I'll ask him.
- There. Now, you see the new roots.
- I beg your pardon, sir.
Almost like little veins, aren't they,
stretching down into the earth?
- Would you just... For a moment, sir.
- What?
What is it, Mills?
It's a debatable point.
Some favor the longer, some the shorter.
They're fishing, sir.
I beg your pardon, sir,
but seeing them down there,
working their fingers to the bones,
well, we thought,
that is, the lads and I thought,
that we might just, well, nip along
and give them a little hand, sir.
Something to talk about
when we get home, sir.
Yes, sir, considering our mission, sir.
Well, can we give them a hand, sir?
Yes, I think
we should all give them a hand.
Mr. Christian, I'm ready for a man
to help me ball the root.
- To what?
- Ball the root.
Well...
- Mills?
- Gosh, sir, I...
I don't know a thing about gardening, sir.
Honest, I don't.
Well, go on, then!
Thank you, sir.
- I'm ready, Mr. Christian.
- Oh, damn you, Brown! I'm coming.
Mates! Hey, mates. What's that?
Don't be scared.
I'm going to take you home with me.
- Well, is it dormant, or isn't it?
- I couldn't say, sir.
Only the transplant itself can answer you,
by living or dying.
And when can I expect its decision?
Perhaps 12 hours,
perhaps three weeks, sir.
Excellent. You can't say yet.
Perhaps 12 hours, perhaps three weeks.
We've traveled a gardener 29,000 miles
to be told we don't even know
the condition of the breadfruit. Excellent!
You know, I heard that
if that bread plant dries up,
we could be here four or five months.
- You better pray it don't, mate.
- Pray it don't? What do you mean?
How did you like
your voyage out here, then?
Nice? Comfortable?
Nothing but fair and proper treatment
from the Captain, eh?
Worst I ever remember.
Well, what makes you
want to get underway, then?
Use your head.
If Captain Bligh was cooped up here
for five months,
five months, mark you,
who do you think he'd take it out on?
You think we sweat a bit,
making for the Horn?
Wait till he breaks our back
making for Jamaica.
We'll worry about that
when it comes. Here!
- Aye.
- Might as well at that, mates.
I wonder why they make
those women eat alone?
Because if they didn't,
you'd be too busy to eat.
Funny lot, aren't they?
They let us make free with their women.
They won't let us eat with them.
Isn't that like knocking at the wrong door?
Hitihiti say,
Captain dance with daughter now.
Dance? No, not me.
I thank Your Excellency, but I don't dance.
No say no. Hitihiti angry.
My apologies, Your Excellency.
I did not understand.
- You are amused?
- No, I hope I shall not be, sir.
But it does seem a rather difficult dance,
doesn't it?
We shall see.
Sorry to spoil your evening, sir,
but you said you wished to be informed
of any development.
It looks wilted, Brown.
It's dead, sir.
Might there not be
other plants that will flourish?
Sir, this proves
that the dormant season has begun.
Well, you did the best you could, sir.
It's a pity the Admiralty will blame you,
in any case, for the delay.
But, it's an unjust world. My sympathy!
I dislike failure.
I dislike it as much as the Admiralty does.
Forgive me. I have a partner over there.
Forgive me, please.
Hello.
Fletcher Christian is my name.
- "Is my name."
- No, no. Fletcher.
"No, no. Fletcher."
All right.
Thank you.
How very sweet.
Now, Maimiti, if I may?
That's a kiss!
"Kiss."
No, no, Fletcher.
Yes, Fletcher.
Yes, yes, Fletcher.
"Yes, Fletcher."
Mr. Christian?
You spoke, sir?
That's the King's daughter
you're tampering with.
You should know better
than to risk his displeasure.
Kindly satisfy your lust elsewhere.
Quite actually, sir, we were simply
discussing the incredible variety
- of Tahitian vegetation. It was...
- Acknowledge the order.
Lust to be satisfied elsewhere, sir!
But not today.
Report onboard, immediately.
You bloody fool.
Well, I'm sorry, old girl.
Good morning.
Thank you.
Would you like to come aboard?
You come here.
Yes, of course.
You tell Captain Bligh
he not get breadfruit.
No breadfruit?
Last night you go away from Maimiti.
Yes, regretfully. You see, I...
Hitihiti say,
daughter not good enough for England,
breadfruit not good enough.
Well, that's certainly
a very sound point of view.
- You tell Captain Bligh, no breadfruit.
- Yes.
May I suggest
that you tell Captain Bligh, yourself?
You see, I don't think
that he would believe me.
- I tell, yes.
- Thank you.
- Mr. Morrison?
- Aye, sir.
Would you direct this gentleman
to Captain Bligh, please?
Yes, sir. Please come with me.
You sent for me, sir?
Sit down.
A rather awkward situation has developed.
That daughter of Hitihiti's...
It seems he's quite attached to her.
Yes, she's a lovely girl.
In a civilized society,
certain lewd intentions toward
the female members of one's family
would be regarded as...
Well, as an insult.
- Follow me?
- I think so, sir.
But in Tahiti, the insult lies
in the omission of those lewd intentions.
Manners that would offend
a dockside harlot
seem to be the only acceptable behavior
to King Hitihiti.
Well, it takes all sorts
to make a world, sir.
What I'm trying to say is that
you have offended his code of etiquette.
Well, I can assure you, sir,
that I have done nothing
that could be construed as offensive.
I know. I know. That's just the point.
Which point, sir?
The success of our mission depends upon
retaining the good will of Hitihiti.
Well, there's no doubt of that, sir.
Well, then.
Well, you have my fullest attention, sir.
Don't you understand what I'm saying?
I'm trying to understand
exactly what it is you wish me to do, sir.
Make love to that damn daughter of his!
Is that an order, sir?
Might I have it entered in the log?
That will be all.
You see, it is a rather different thing
than being asked
to fight for one's country.
Very well, sir.
I'll try my best, sir.
Thank you, sir.
- I'll have the cutter, Mr. Fryer.
- Aye, aye, sir.
Hold the cutter,
Mr. Christian coming aboard.
- Shall I take you off the duty roster, sir?
- Yes.
My commission ashore
will detain me quite some time.
Thank you, Mr. Fryer.
How do you do?
No, no, Fletcher.
Well, it's...
I hardly know where to begin, Maimiti.
The ship's company was pleased
to have it confirmed
that the Tahitians considered
lovemaking a gesture of goodwill.
It may sound improbable,
but do you know
the goodwill in the hearts of our crew
turned out to be practically boundless.
And the Tahitian ladies
gave them every opportunity to prove it.
You see, to the Tahitians,
a light skin was a mark of beauty.
Men with fair complexions,
like Englishmen,
were regarded as beautiful.
No matter how nonsensically
their features were arranged.
They were beautiful
and they could do no wrong.
So they did no wrong
at every possible opportunity.
- Beautiful evening, sir.
- Beautiful.
Sounds as though
they're enjoying it ashore, sir.
- Doesn't it?
- Yes, sir.
Forgive the liberty, Captain,
but you have not spent one evening
ashore yourself, yet, have you?
I don't intend to.
It's a remarkably friendly island, sir.
It's a shame to be lonely in this port.
While our mission remains unfulfilled,
I'm not in any port, Mr. Fryer.
I am in command where,
you may find one day, it's always lonely.
You see, command allows no intimacies.
You can hardly expect
unquestioning obedience
from last night's partner in a debauch.
Suppose not, but it does seem a pity, sir.
I prefer it that way.
Yes, sir.
- The men are a little slow, sir, but...
- Yes, I know.
There was only one man
who refused to take things as they came.
Tahitian style.
He was in love.
And when you saw his girl,
it was hard to blame him.
But Tahitian-style love wasn't for him.
He wanted things ship-shape
in Bristol fashion.
So he went to Captain Bligh
and asked to be married.
Well, I had seen Bligh every day
for more than a year.
And that was the only time
I ever saw him laugh.
Midshipmen. Be a dull navy without them.
Now get that slut off my ship.
He didn't have to put it
to the boy like that.
The old pig.
His shadow don't fit his shape,
not by a damn sight.
Well, expect it to grow horns.
You will, Quintal.
You'll see it, after we lift anchor.
If I be a judge,
a man would beg to settle for the cat
- even before we see Jamaica.
- Aye.
You know something?
A man could have
a fine life for himself out here.
My word, how lovely.
Just exquisite.
Beautiful work. Oh, isn't that jolly.
Maimiti.
Oh, yes. Would you excuse me? Please?
I want to say goodbye to her.
Tell King George, send for me.
I am good Englishman.
I have plenty breadfruit, plenty hog.
Feed all England.
Yes. Well, he's certainly in need of hogs.
And I'll tell him the first time I see him.
Would you excuse me?
Thank you.
Well, Maimiti, it's time.
I'll be leaving in a few hours.
I wait.
I wait you, Fletcher.
I look for you every day.
Maimiti, there must be some way
to make you understand
that I won't be back.
And if you look for me,
you'll only be unhappy,
and I wouldn't like that.
Never come back to me?
Never come back to Tahiti. One time?
No.
But I'll remember.
You see...
I've been happy here, Maimiti.
I'll remember you,
and the lovely time we've had together.
Your sweet face, your beauty.
But England is my home,
and it's time to say goodbye.
I must go.
Goodbye.
Goodbye, Maimiti. Take care.
Well, that just about does it, sir.
These 20 and we're all done.
There they are.
They've got the boat, like they said.
- What if we're caught?
- Look, we've been over that often enough.
Captured deserters hang,
but we won't be caught.
I wish I could be sure of it.
Why don't you stop shilly-shallying
and come on.
I'm sorry to be a bore, Ned,
but your work party's gone dallying,
and Mr. Fryer's on his way.
I think you'd look rather graceless
being bent over a cannon,
so I suggest that we go collect them.
Idiots.
Hello, Minarii!
Overtake that canoe.
They'll need a strong wind to outrun us.
Well, they'll not find one
this side of the reef.
- No, not that passage. We'll capsize!
- Not enough time. We've got to chance it.
Quite an interesting gathering.
What are those deserters doing here?
- Why aren't these men in irons?
- The men are being bandaged, sir.
And as to whether they are deserters,
I'm a naval officer, I'm not a judge.
To my mind, you are neither.
Confine them in the cable tier.
Release them for duty only.
We haven't been heard, sir.
- Haven't we got the right to be heard, sir?
- Oh, yes. Indeed you have.
At your court martial in Jamaica,
you may be heard
right up to the moment you hang.
- Did you say cable tier, sir?
- In irons.
Six weeks in that stinking, filthy hole
and there won't be
enough left of them to hang.
I wonder why an alleged gentleman
should give his first loyalty
to ordinary seaman.
Instead of to other alleged gentleman?
lmpertinence noted. It shall be logged.
Do you care to enlarge the entry?
Yes. Only with this observation,
which I will report to the Admiralty,
in any case.
In my years of service,
I have never met an officer
who inflicted punishment upon men
with such incredible relish.
It's sickening.
Then go and be sick in your cabin,
Mr. Christian.
I have never met a naval officer
who was so proud of a weak stomach!
They forgot to take our knives.
- They don't cut iron, do they?
- No. But they cut throats.
And I ain't going to live to hang. Not me.
- No, no, no. Don't be hasty.
- What's to wait for?
- We're finished.
- Most likely are, yes.
But I don't intend cutting my throat.
Not yet, that is.
No? I suppose the angel of mercy
is going to step out of a cloud and say,
"Captain Bligh, set those nice lads free.
And kindly be smart about it."
Something like that, yes. Yes.
Only, we're not the only people
onboard this ship
who can't swallow
much more of Mr. Bligh.
Ah, you're grasping at straws.
Who's gonna chuck him overboard?
This crew?
It wasn't the crew I was thinking of.
- Who then?
- Christian.
Mr. Christian.
He came after us and caught us, didn't he?
- It showed whose side he's on.
- Aye!
It showed he was a King's Officer,
that's all.
But I hope Bligh keeps pushing him,
like he did just now.
Christian will turn on him.
I know what he's thinking.
I can see it in his face.
And I do not intend to let him forget it.
Five months we'd spent in Tahiti.
They seemed more like five minutes.
The day of departure
would have been a black one for me,
as it was for everyone but Captain Bligh,
except that I didn't have a minute
to dwell on it.
The Bounty had become
a sea-going greenhouse
with over a thousand potted plants
to be tended.
Captain Bligh had doubled our quota,
thinking to please
the West Indies Company
and make amends for his tardiness.
Aboard ship, there is a danger
in having too much of anything,
for then one is bound to have
too little of something else.
Go along, Mills.
Oh, dear.
Our first casualty.
But we must resign ourselves
to losing a great many of them, sir.
There's just no way to stretch the water.
- We don't have enough water?
- In the ordinary way, plenty, sir.
But indoors, in this heat,
they need twice the amount.
But they would all live
if they had the extra ration?
Why, of course.
But I measured the kegs
most carefully, sir,
- and there just isn't enough...
- Yes, yes!
Give them all the water they need, Brown.
We'll not have another dead plant.
- Understand?
- Yes, sir.
Fourteen degrees, 37 minutes.
Belay that!
- And stow it away.
- Aye, aye, sir.
- Mr. Christian?
- Yes, sir.
I'll have a sentry posted at the water cask,
if you please.
Aye, aye, sir.
I want this slung
from the main t'gallant yardarm.
Any man desiring water
will climb and fetch it.
He may have just as much
as this ladle holds and no more.
Then he will replace the ladle
at the yardarm.
Are we short of water, sir?
- Do you wish me to repeat the order?
- No, sir. It's perfectly clear.
- A bit bewildering, but clear.
- Then do it.
Don't think about it.
Thinking seems to confuse you.
You go down and I'll follow.
All the way to the main t'gallant yardarm
for that spoonful of water, eh?
Yeah. A man would sweat more
than he can drink, wouldn't he?
That's a fine way to murder a fellow.
Mills?
Yes, sir?
If you feel free to speak disrespectfully
because you think
you've nothing more to lose,
you'd best think again.
The Captain may have a surprise for you.
Yes, sir. Yes, indeed, sir. He'll surprise me.
He'll surprise me
if he doesn't kill half the ship's company
before we get to Jamaica. Mark me, sir.
- I'll overlook what I heard this time, Mills.
- Thank you, sir.
- Birkett?
- Sir.
Take this aloft.
Aye, aye, sir.
- What's the matter with him?
- He's got a touch of fever.
I told the bos'n. He said, sweat it out.
- I'll be all right if I get some water.
- Who wouldn't?
He hasn't had a drop in two days.
He is too weak to climb.
Why didn't you speak up?
I'll get the ladle for you.
It's against orders. I've tried it.
Every man's got to fetch his own.
Sick men, too?
Well, that a kindly rule.
I'll go daft. I've got to get a drink.
Brown, you must know
that's unnecessary.
Drink all the water you need, Brown.
Don't try to climb the shrouds,
you don't know how.
If I may be allowed a protest, sir.
It's a matter of self-respect.
Damn your self-respect!
I'll not lose my gardener.
Damn my self-respect, sir?
Then, indeed, would I be damned.
I hope you're satisfied.
The masthead is no place for novices.
- Even a qualified hand...
- You murdering fool!
I'll tear your throat out of you. You...
Mr. Fryer, this man will be keelhauled.
We'll give him tonight to think about it,
and keelhaul him in the morning.
Take him below and put him in irons.
Birkett, Norton, lend a hand.
One.
One? Yes, that's correct, Mills.
One more bit of insolence
and you'll wish
that you'd fallen to the deck.
Fletcher, you heard him.
He can't do such a thing, can he?
Hereafter, you will announce yourself
with a knock, if you don't mind.
You don't deceive me, Fletcher.
You feel the same way as I do.
Why, he's monstrous.
I believe he's insane!
He's the headmaster, over-fond of caning.
And you're the third former
who can do nothing about it,
except to bleat
and to beat your head against the wall.
Now, stop being a nuisance.
You're not going to patronize me
about this, Fletcher, midshipman or no.
You must protest, Fletcher,
keelhauling is illegal!
It's tantamount to executing the fellow.
Well, what a champion
of the obvious you are.
Of course, he's executing the fellow.
What do you suppose my punishment
would be, were I to strike a captain?
Well, you know very well you should be
hanged, but that's not the point.
Well, that's exactly the point.
Now, just ask yourself.
Why should a common seaman
receive a lesser punishment
for exactly the same offense?
That doesn't alter the fact
that keelhauling is illegal.
Even a common seaman's
entitled to a trial.
Take a pew. I'll have you a go at chess.
You can have the white.
It might improve your game.
Oh, come off it, Ned, sit down.
The line's gone slack, sir.
Haul in.
There's nothing left to haul, sir.
Then cast him loose.
Get her under sail, again.
- Mr. Fryer?
- Sir.
- Headsails and courses.
- Aye, aye, sir.
Set headsail and courses!
Set headsail and courses.
Aye, aye, sir!
All hands make sail!
Set headsails and courses!
Man the tacks!
Man the braces!
Two.
- Would you care for a drink?
- No, thank you.
Well, what are you standing there for?
Did you come down here to watch
my Adam's apple bob about while I drink?
No, I'm thirsty.
- Well, take some water, then.
- I couldn't. I couldn't get it down.
Puking hell, you're a bore!
Is it a bore to want to help men
whose lives are being torn out of them
by a madman?
Why don't you have the carpenter
build you a cross,
so you can drag it about the ship
and put ashes on your head?
That would suit you, wouldn't it?
I've known you all my life,
but I've never really known you
till this moment.
You're just exactly what you seem to be.
A supercilious poseur
without the slightest trace of humanity
or compassion.
Are you quite finished
with your impertinence?
Not quite.
One needn't look further for your character
than the pomade in your hair.
You'll close your arrogant mouth,
Mr. Midshipman Young.
Or I'll have you on the rack.
That's a promise and an order.
Close that cask.
Damn your blood, close it!
Grab him, somebody.
The Captain! The Captain!
Oh, the water in the sea!
I told her I would leave!
Where is he?
Where is he?
If it comes, I'll swim down
to where it's cold and dark.
Never dry, where it's cold.
The damn fool's been drinking seawater.
- Are you certain?
- We caught him at it.
He's got a bucket of bilge water
hidden in the storeroom.
Must have been at it for days.
Well, you'd best bind him, then.
He won't be in his right head for a while
if he lives.
Lives? He hasn't got a chance, sir.
Not without sweet water
to wash out his guts.
- Give me his hands.
- Well, can't he have it, sir?
That's impossible, Quintal.
You know the Captain's orders.
Up he goes. Up he goes.
I got to go home. It's late.
The dinner is ruined. It's ruined.
The meat's burned to a crisp.
Oh, what a tongue that woman's got,
but she's a good sort.
You know, I'm not the easiest man
in the world to get along with.
Steady, man.
I've got a terrible temper.
- Three, Mr. Christian?
- Get out of my way, Mills.
Oh, he goes.
Here's the great face reader.
That's a rare gift you have,
for being wrong.
Leave him be.
At least, he did give us some hope.
All the mad waters for me.
- He should be below, out of the sun.
- I'll ask.
That mainmast needs attention, Mr. Fryer.
Aye, aye, sir.
Mr. Christian,
kindly give me an explanation.
Williams has been drinking seawater, sir.
I was giving him some freshwater.
I'm afraid he'll die without it.
You'll give no one water
without my permission.
- Take that ladle below.
- Yes, sir.
You bloody bastard!
You'll not put your foot on me again.
Thank you. Thank you.
I've been puzzling for a means
to take the strut out of you,
you posturing snob.
Now, you've solved that for me,
haven't you?
You have witnessed Mr. Christian's
act of violence toward a superior officer.
He will be placed in confinement
until a court martial can be convened.
In Jamaica, I expect.
And will your fashionable friends
be there to see your execution, I wonder?
Let's hope so.
Pity if your last function
were to be a social failure.
Mr. Fryer, take him below.
Ship's company!
I'm taking command of this ship.
Mr. Fryer, I'll have the keys
to the arms chest.
You'll give him nothing!
Go below and arm the men off watch.
Stay where you are, Fryer!
You've given your last command, Bligh.
I'll have those keys, Fryer.
You heard my order!
One more order, Mr. Bligh,
and I'll have your head on this deck.
By Heaven, I swear it!
Don't, sir.
- Mills!
- Right, sir.
Go below and issue arms
to all those who are with us.
- Byrne!
- Aye.
It is pointless to incite a mutiny,
Mr. Christian.
It cannot succeed and you know it.
Quintal, stop him!
Stop Mills in the arms room.
They're trying to take over the ship.
- There's a mutiny!
- Look out, Mills!
Your mutiny has not succeeded.
Perhaps not. But success enough
when it puts an end to you.
Mr. Christian!
The men are armed, Mr. Christian!
Come on. Come on, McCoy, get them up!
- I'm with you.
- Come on in there!
Johnson!
Anybody else here with us? Well?
Take over.
Mills!
Come on, move. Move, I said.
Come on. Come on. Come on, move!
The ship is ours, sir.
Very well. Guard him well, Quintal.
Brown, go fetch my nautical tables
and sextant.
The left end of the shelf, my cabin.
- Birkett!
- You, too, Brown?
You'd join these swine?
A man like yourself, sir,
leaves me no choice.
Swine, are we?
Let's have him on the grating.
I want medical supplies and a compass.
All right, boys! Let's tie him up, then.
- All right, grab him. Pull him over there!
- Tie him up!
- Push him!
- Mills, hold that!
Get him over there. Tie him up.
Stand away, here!
They'll be no more killing aboard this ship.
Let's kill him now and get it done with,
right, men?
I'm in command of this ship!
If there's a man amongst you
who doubts that, let me hear his voice.
There'll be no more killing
aboard this ship,
not even Captain Bligh.
If that's an attempt to earn clemency,
I spit on it.
You remarkable pig.
You can thank
whatever pig-god you pray to
that you haven't quite turned me
into a murderer.
Now then, Quintal, Birkett,
hold him at the gangway.
Mills, come with me.
Mack, go below
and fetch Mr. Bligh's personal effects.
Ship's company!
I'm putting Mr. Bligh
and his party in the longboat.
He can make the island of Tafoa
in two days.
If there are any among you
who wish to join him,
stand by the gangway.
Mills.
Mr. Fryer?
You understand
that it wasn't my wish to harm you.
- I hope that you weren't injured.
- No, not at all.
- May I get my gear?
- Certainly.
- Goodbye, Mr. Fryer.
- Goodbye, Mr. Christian.
- I'm sorry for you. May God help you.
- Thank you.
Provisions aboard
and ready to lower away, sir!
Lower away.
- Here you are, Mr. Christian.
- Stand by.
He's sane enough
to drink all the water he's given.
I think he's coming around.
Fletcher, I'm proud to be with you.
Well, you've done rather well, Ned.
Being promoted to the rank of criminal.
Not even 20
and a death sentence on your head.
Take him below.
By your leave, sir.
Well, we've been talking it over, sir.
- And...
- Well, what? Well, get on with it.
Well, we'd like to be with you, sir.
But we've got families.
- Well, join the party at the gangway.
- Thank you, sir.
As you know,
Tafoa is due west, 40 leagues.
You have your compass.
This book is sufficient for its purpose.
The sextant is my own,
so you know it to be a good one.
Now, Mr. William Bligh...
Quite polite and formal, are we?
Playing the gentleman again,
you bloody traitor.
Mr. Fryer!
Can't you see we're overloaded?
One man more and you'll sink me.
Well, if that's the case, I'll volunteer!
You got to let me go, sir.
I ain't a mutineer.
- Hold those men!
- What's going to happen to us?
We want to go, too.
Now, I want it clearly understood
by yourself
and those of you below,
that these men who remain behind
had no hand in this mutiny.
- What happens to us?
- I don't want no part of it.
You men will be put ashore safely
at a British port of call
at the first opportunity.
How do we know when that will be?
- How about our family?
- Birkett,
confine these men below
and station an armed man at each hatch.
- Aye, sir. Come on get moving.
- Move or you'll be shot!
Come on, quick.
Take them below, Johnson.
Come on, quick at the back there.
Has your murderous friend
told you what to expect?
Or is he going to keep you in the dark?
Now hear the truth!
The King's Navy will not rest
until every mutineer is captured
and executed.
Wherever you go, wherever you hide,
- a thousand ships will search you out.
- Well, let them try!
If it weren't for Mr. Christian,
I'd give them more reason to look for me.
Will you step into the boat
or will you be thrown in, Mr. Bligh?
I'm not leaving you, Mr. Christian.
Not ever.
Go to the dirtiest little corner of the world,
I'll be there, right behind you,
with a rope in my hand.
One moment. Quintal.
Take your flag with you.
I don't need a flag, Mr. Christian.
Unlike you, I still have a country.
What a big price to pay
for a little show of temper.
I pity you.
We're rid of you now, Bligh!
You bloody maniac!
You and your tub and your ladles of water.
Bye, bye, tyranny!
- Hey, look, you forgot these.
- Hey, fellas, let's sink them with them.
Hey, Bligh, you forgot this.
No more Bligh!
All the grog and water we can own!
Hey, Bligh, you've forgotten something!
We're rid of you now, Bligh,
you bloody maniac.
You and your tub and ladles of water!
Bye bye, tyranny!
Come in.
Are you ready for us, sir?
You men are now ship's officers.
Mills, you're First Officer. Birkett, you're...
You're Second.
And, Smith, you'll fill the Master's duties.
It's gonna be a bit awkward, sir,
telling our mates to jump to it
when we have to.
Yeah, that's right.
They'll think we're proper poopers.
Let them think what they like.
A ship crashed on the reef
has a better chance
than one without discipline.
No doubt about that.
But making our mates swallow it,
that's the part that pinches.
I'll make the beggars heed me
if I have to break their necks.
Here, listen to him,
acting like an officer already.
Hold that noise for the fo'c'sle.
Your pardon, gentlemen.
I'm forgetting your new status.
Oh, that's all right, sir. We understand.
Well, at least
the common seamen are happy.
- They have a right. We won, didn't we?
- Aye! That we did.
Won?
Won what, you damn fool?
We got rid of Bligh.
I'd be a dead man if we didn't.
Or in prison for the rest of my life,
if I was lucky.
You're in prison now, Mills.
With one slight difference.
We're not locked in. We're locked out.
Briefly, and for the moment,
our plans will be as follows,
we'll return to Tahiti
and deposit our prisoners,
we'll pick up all the water
and stores we can carry,
and all the extra hands we can find.
And as to where we shall go after that,
we shall not decide
until we're at sea again.
Is that all, sir?
Yes, that's all.
Excuse me, Mr. Christian, sir.
It isn't my place to say this,
but I know how you must be feeling.
Might I say though, sir,
that, considering my years and such...
What is it, Smith?
Things are going to be all right for you, sir.
They've got be.
When a man gives up as much as you did,
just because he thinks it's right,
the Good Lord would never let him down.
Wherever we might go,
be it to China or Iceland or anywhere,
you'll find a happy life, sir.
It's God's will. I know.
I believe I did what honor dictated.
And that belief sustains me.
Except for a slight desire to be dead,
which I'm sure will pass.
Oh, yes. God bless you, sir.
We have 60 pieces of pork, sir.
150 pieces of bread.
Thirty-eight gallons of water,
a gallon of rum.
There's also a compass aboard. A sextant.
- We have seven sea bags...
- Tafoa be damned.
Oars!
Get ready to make sail!
Your attention.
We shall not make for Tafoa.
We shall make for a port
where we can get passage
to England immediately.
We'll head for Timor.
Timor!
- That's nearly 4,000 miles away, sir.
- I'm well aware of that, Mr. Fryer.
Timor is 3,600 miles away.
It's an arduous journey,
but the trade winds
will be in our favor all the way.
Do not be alarmed,
I will get you there safely.
Yeah, like you got us
around the Horn safely.
It would be a mistake to imagine
that I am no longer in command.
I have at hand
one means of asserting my authority.
- There will be no minor punishments.
- Excuse me, sir, might I ask,
what is wrong with Tafoa,
as Mr. Christian suggested?
- Aye, Tafoa.
- Aye!
It would suit his book if it took us
a couple of years to get back to England.
The colder the trail, the safer he'll be.
It would suit him even better
if the natives of Tafoa
turned out to be cannibals.
- Cannibals.
- Cannibal? Where?
In Tafoa?
This whole island group
is infested with cannibals.
Continue to make sail.
That should help improve
the morale a bit, Mr. Fryer.
Don't look so concerned.
You're quite right. The odds are appalling.
You see, these mutineers must hang.
They must hang.
Fletcher, may I come in?
Not just now, Ned.
We've dropped anchor.
Well, then, go and make arrangements
with Minarii to land our prisoners.
It's a beautiful day.
Aren't you coming ashore?
Fletcher, you can't keep sitting
in your cabin like this.
It's unhealthy.
Oh, for God's sakes, Ned,
can't you simply do as you're told?
Oh, the way they laugh,
like they never heard of trouble.
They sound like wine tastes.
A man could get happy drunk
just listening to them.
Hutia! Hutia! Where are you, girl?
Come here, my little kissing bug.
I got joyful news for you.
You're coming with us.
You're going to make an ocean voyage.
Mr. Christian says
we can take women with us if we want.
Do you hear that, Quintal?
You can take a woman with you,
if you can find one
with that horrible face of yours.
Look who's talking?
You're ugly enough
to turn a funeral up an alley.
And we're taking men with us, too.
Minarii and five hands
to do our work for us.
Now, what a navy!
It's too good for the likes of you, mates,
carting women along.
It has me worried.
What the hell does it all mean?
Will you stop that "what's this all mean"?
I wonder why we don't just stay here
in Tahiti.
You're mad. Tahiti's the first place
Bligh will come to look for us.
If he lives.
You ever tried to drown a snake?
And a sea-going snake,
at that, with a damn fine sextant.
Aye. And with a sextant,
a good sailorman, like Bligh,
could make port in a hollow tooth.
All right. Let's say he lived to see London,
then say he comes back here.
How is he going to find us
if we're hid deep in the hills?
Easy, he'd ask Hitihiti.
Aye! That old rascal could be bought
for a bucket of glass beads.
Mr. Christian is bound to find us
someplace safe to go.
- You can trust him, mates.
- Yeah. Sitting all alone in his cabin.
He's changed a lot.
So would you be changed
if you lost what he lost.
Anyway, there's been nothing wrong
with his plans so far, has there?
Not a thing.
Except keeping us from giving Bligh
a taste of his own lash.
Hello, Maimiti.
Fletcher sick?
No, I'm very well, thank you.
Minarii tell, Fletcher fight war.
Fletcher chief now.
Very small chief, Maimiti,
running for his life.
Minarii tell you take Tahiti people
away in ship.
Yes, we'll need men to sail it.
You take women, too.
The men will want to be amused
while they look for a place to hide.
Maimiti go along you.
You not want?
I'm afraid there's no want left in me.
Now, if you don't mind,
I have some work to do
and I prefer to be alone to do it.
Maimiti go. You no lonely.
I don't need you
to remind me of my loneliness.
- Maimiti go.
- Are you deaf as well as ignorant?
Can't I make it clear to you
that I have no life to share with anyone!
No yelling Maimiti you!
You pig. Pig all over.
Do you really want
to spend your life with a man
that doesn't care for anything
on this earth?
Tahiti people say,
"You hate life, all life hate you."
Maimiti go.
Lieutenant William Bligh,
the court has considered
the charges against you.
And their finding is that
no blame attaches to you,
for the loss of His Majesty's ship, Bounty.
You are, therefore,
most honorably acquitted.
The court finds that mutiny
and piracy have been committed
against His Majesty's Navy.
The court makes recommendation
to the First Lord of the Admiralty
which recommendation shall be entered
in the record of these proceedings to wit,
an expedition of pursuit
be commissioned posthaste
and charged to capture,
and bring to justice the parties
responsible for the loss
of His Majesty's ship, Bounty.
They can hardly evade us for long.
I shall pray they do not, Milord.
The court considers it has obligation
to add comment to its verdict.
By the force of evidentiary conclusions,
you, Captain William Bligh,
stand absolved of military misdeed.
Yet officers of stainless record
and seamen, voluntary all,
were moved to mutiny against you.
Your methods,
so far as this court can discern,
showed what we shall cautiously term
an excess of zeal.
We cannot condemn zeal.
We cannot rebuke an officer
who has administered discipline
according to the Articles of War.
But the Articles are fallible
as any Articles are bound to be.
No code can cover all contingencies.
We cannot put justice
aboard our ships in books.
Justice and decency
are carried in the heart of the captain
or they be not aboard.
It is for this reason
that the Admiralty has always sought
to appoint its officers
from the ranks of gentlemen.
The court regrets to note that
the appointment of Captain William Bligh
was, in that respect, a failure.
The Court is dissolved.
For several months
we sought a suitable place to dwell.
The Bounty visited at least 30 islands.
None of them served our purpose.
In some cases, the natives repulsed us
with barrages of stones and arrows.
In others, we found the vegetation
too sparse to sustain life
or the water supply too limited.
But our disappointments
did not depress us.
Mr. Christian knew
how to keep a happy ship.
As for himself,
he gave no sign of discontent.
True, he had a habit
of falling into Brown's studies
of wrestling with some problem
that took him far away
from where he stood.
Still, his failure to solve his private riddle
was never taken out on us.
He was no Bligh.
And the absence of Bligh was a daily tonic.
Please, Officers first.
No matter what sort of noise they make,
they always sound lovable.
They've sighted us. She's turning round.
Merchantman or man-of-war?
It's the whereabouts of the sun
concerns me now.
It'll set in about 40 minutes.
What is it, Mr. Christian?
It's an English warship, Mr. Mills.
Let her mark our course well.
We'll alter it after dark.
- Aye, aye, sir.
- Douse all lights. Cold supper, no pipes.
- Mr. Birkett?
- Sir.
- Arm all hands.
- Aye, aye, sir.
What's the hour?
About two bells.
- I never spent a longer night.
- Me neither.
- I'm glad it's getting light.
- I ain't.
What if she's still there?
We outrun her, or we outshoot her,
or we swing.
Not a sail in sight. Ned, I'll have that glass.
No sight at all of her, sir?
What is it you were looking at then, sir?
It's land. It's there,
but it shouldn't be.
Mills, Brown, come with me.
Yes. This is our position,
give or take 10 miles.
Empty water.
What's this piece of land over here, sir?
That is Pitcairn Island.
It's over a 170 miles due east.
Or is it?
Well, it must be, sir.
There isn't land anywhere else about.
Yes, that's right.
This must be Pitcairn. It's charted wrong.
And then, it's charted wrong
on every single official chart
in the British Navy.
Don't you see? Pitcairn is a 175 miles
away from where it actually lies.
It can only be found by accident,
just as we have done.
At first, we must find out
whether or not it's inhabited,
and if their people are friendly.
Mills, I want you to take an armed party.
Go ashore. We'll cover you.
Minarii, have your men stand by to cover.
It looks deserted.
- No people here.
- Tell Mr. Christian.
Well, laddies, how does it feel
to be land-owning squires, eh?
Without tenants
making hungry mouths at us.
No poachers either, eh?
Come on, let's take a little twirl
round our estate, then.
That's a good idea.
Come on, Mr. Kew Gardens.
Breadfruit.
Mr. Young, look, yams, papaya, taro root.
Why, the island's a garden.
Beautiful rich soil.
- What's that?
- Oh, it's some sort of a tuber.
I can't tell till I cultivate it.
Do you think Mr. Christian
would like the garden right here?
Well, not if we decide
to live on the other side of the island.
- I got it.
- Good shot. Here!
Birkett, Mr. Young,
there's tons of food here.
Here! I've just seen enough game
to feed the whole of the British Navy.
- I'm not kidding you.
- Water aplenty.
And fish. Big ones. Real big ones.
Hey, mates, look here!
- Pigeon pie for dinner!
- Pigeon? With red feathers?
All right, all right, whatever it is then.
- They're pretty, ain't they?
- Yeah.
The tail feathers are for Hutia.
- This is better than Tahiti, even.
- It's the climate. It's cooler.
Well, it's not the climate we're tasting.
It's that lovely mapmaker's mistake.
Mates, there's only one thing missing.
Captain Bligh.
Oh, yes.
I'd give a leg or two
if he could see us now.
Eating away to our heart's content
without a care in the world.
Yeah, I like him better where he is.
I like him going away in his little boat,
with the hot sun beating down
on his hot little head.
Well, God grant him a dry mouth.
Do you remember when he bid us
goodbye, all blown up like a toad?
"I'll never leave you, Mr. Christian.
Not ever.
"No matter where you go,
I'll always be at your shoulder,
"with a rope in me hand."
Of course,
he's a man of his word, is Captain Bligh.
So perhaps we ought to set him a plate.
Why, hello there. Captain Bligh, sir.
Sit down, sir. Sit down.
Here have a bird wing or two.
And kindly explain why you ain't here.
There's no doubt about it.
Nobody's glad to see a captain
who comes home without his ship.
You know, I'd give a stick of tabaccy
to see his ruddy report.
Those Admiralty Lords will look at him
like he was a piece of rotten biscuit.
I'm afraid your laughter
is unwarranted, gentlemen.
Captain Bligh will be acquitted.
He'll be given another ship.
A larger cat-o'-nine-tails to run it with.
You're forgetting there's mates of ours
went along with Bligh, sir.
They'll tell what the old pig did.
And they'll tell how he was out
to execute all of us, one by one.
Sure.
Your friends are under the shadow
of arraignment themselves for mutiny,
if Bligh chooses to charge
that they failed to rally to his calls,
or to protect him properly.
- Why should they invite his anger?
- They won't be given any choice, sir.
They'll be asked questions, and the facts
will speak for themselves, right?
The bare facts alone will not indict Bligh.
It's the privilege of every captain to decide
when an emergency warrants
the reduction of water rations.
Who can deny there was an emergency?
The Bounty carried breadfruit.
Vital to the economic life
of the British Empire.
Do you suppose it'll be acceptable
that Bligh should return
after a two-year voyage
with his ship laden with dead plants?
Better than with dead men, sir.
You're forgetting
the traditional answer, Mills.
Mission comes first
and lives of men second.
Well, it's all the one to us now.
Let them make Captain Bligh
King of China if they want to.
We can forget him, thank God.
And I move we start forgetting him
right now.
Bligh guilty, or Bligh not guilty,
it makes no difference
to our lovely little island.
And if it did, we could write out papers
telling our side of the story,
seal them in bottles
and send them floating on the sea.
Hey, that's a thought.
One of them might even bob along
and reach England ahead of Bligh.
That'd put a spike in his coffin.
We can make certain
that his coffin is spiked.
What do you mean, sir?
By returning to England ourselves.
- Well, what the holy hell for?
- You're not serious, Mr. Christian.
It's a joke he'll be after having, that's all.
- Well, it was a joke to spoil me dinner.
- Hold it, hold it.
Mr. Christian is meaning what he says,
I'm afraid.
- Yes, I am, Mills.
- Then I've got a better idea, sir.
Why don't we hang each other
from the yardarms in the morning?
- It'll save us a trip!
- Yes.
Listen to me for one moment,
gentlemen, please.
I put it to you
that we shall never find contentment
on this island.
Sir, it sounds
like you've gone out of your mind.
There's no chance for people like us
to go back to England,
give Bligh a bad name
and walk free men ourselves.
And anyone who thinks otherwise
hasn't got the sense that God gave geese!
You're right, Mills.
We may all very well be hanged.
But decency is worth fighting for.
You can't live without it.
And hiding here, shivering like convicts,
when we've a just case
to present to the courts,
is just another way of dying.
And a far less bearable one.
I didn't know until this moment,
what the rightful course to pursue was.
But I know it now.
Will you trust me?
Look, supposing Bligh's
been picked up already.
Supposing he's been tried and acquitted
by the time we get there.
Let it be so.
Our court martial
will be Bligh's court martial over again.
Our jeopardy
will be Bligh's' jeopardy as well.
And our acquittal will be Bligh's defeat.
It'll mean no more Captain William Bligh
or any like him in His Majesty's service.
We need only persuade the British people
of something they already know,
that inhumanity is its poorest servant.
Gentlemen, I beg you.
Help me to carry that word
back to England.
That's a big thought for people like us.
Do you mind
if we take the night to talk about it?
Certainly.
Mills, Quintal, Birkett, Minarii, quickly!
Our ship's afire.
Hurry, for God's sake, everyone!
She's afire! Come quickly!
Mills, Quintal, Birkett!
Come on!
Get the boat in the water.
Madatafao, as soon as we get aboard
you and Tamas slip the anchor.
Brown, you and Minarii will hoist the sail.
When she begins to make headway,
we'll sink her on the shallows.
Ned, you and I will go below
and open the sea cocks.
She can be refloated
if we can save the hull.
- We're fast on a rock.
- Right through the hull.
- Have you got the sextant, Ned?
- What?
- Have you got the sextant?
- No.
- You can't go now. It's too late, Fletcher.
- We'll never leave here without it.
- Fletcher, you can't go down!
- Abandon ship!
The cutter's heading back.
They've given up.
Careful now.
Find something to cover him.
Minarii, go to my tent.
You'll find a chest.
In it is a medicine case, bring it quickly.
And bring a lamp or a torch,
we shall need light.
Oh, my God. My God.
There's some laudanum
in the medicine case.
It'll stop his pain within a few minutes.
He'll need it, if he regains consciousness.
Here, Ned, spread it gently.
Easy.
I gave him all the laudanum there was.
He'll feel nothing
as soon as he assimilates it.
We must cut away
what's left of his clothing.
Oh, look at that.
Oh, my God.
- It's us done that to him.
- Get away from here.
Get away from here or I'll cut your throats,
you murdering scum.
- Ned! Ned, stop!
- I'll kill you.
No. On my life I gave him bad for good.
I never done that to anybody
in my life before.
- What's happened, Brown?
- We're on the beach, Mr. Christian.
There was an accident.
You've been burned and you must lie still.
- Was I hurt badly?
- Not too bad. You're going to be all right.
But it's important
that you stay as still as possible.
The Bounty?
- It's hopeless.
- It's gone.
- The sextant, did we... Have we lost it?
- No, I have it here, Mr. Christian.
You must hide it, Brown. Hide it, quickly.
So, it was your work, the burning.
Was it? You filth.
I have no want in me to harm you.
For the love of God, believe
I regret what has happened to you.
We all do.
But each man has to follow his own belief,
no matter what.
You've said this many times
after the mutiny.
Well, I did what I thought I had to do.
I burned the Bounty for the good of all.
It wasn't in bad faith. It was just bad luck.
For the good of all, Mills?
Yes, sir.
But why did you have to burn the Bounty?
You had no reason to fear me.
We were afraid, Mr. Christian.
We were afraid you were going
to take us to London by force.
Oh, God.
We're sick
and sorry for what's happened to you.
We'll never forget what you've done for us.
It's all right, Mills. It wasn't your fault.
Bligh left his mark on all of us.
Goodbye, Mr. Christian.
May God have mercy on you.
Am I dying, Brown?
Yes, Mr. Christian.
What a useless way to die.
It's not useless, Fletcher. I swear it.
Maybe we'll get to London or maybe not.
The Blighs will lose.
We'll tell our story somehow, to someone.
It only needs one of us to survive.
Never mind, Maimiti.
We haven't much time.
Please...
Please know that
I loved you
more than I knew.
And if I'd only
had time to...
To...
English