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Мятеж на Баунти

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mister,
owned by Captain Kidd.
With a map of the treasure
under the works.
Here. Stand clear with the tinware, Joe.
You keep leeward
of the ship's gentlemen.
All right, now. Ta-ta. Ta-ta!
Mr. Byam? I'm Fletcher Christian,
lieutenant and master's mate.
- You'll be my instructor.
- Yes, in navigation and trigonometry.
You'll have a watch, keep order,
go aloft to mend canvas, reef and furl.
Otherwise, your time is your own.
Mr. Christian, in my hands,
the ship is safe.
I understand.
"A little child shall lead them."
Come along, I'll show you below. You
there, take Mr. Byam's box to his berth.
- Ahoy, Mr. Christian!
- Ahoy!
Excuse me.
Good morning, sir.
Nothing lost, Mr. Christian.
Think I've got enough
for a two years' voyage?
- You know your draft better than I do.
- My lad, nobody can estimate my draft...
...least of all myself.
- Easy, easy.
- What makes her roll so?
Here's a navy for you.
Rum in the skimmers today
and blood in the scuppers tomorrow.
This is our ship's surgeon.
We call him Mr. Bacchus.
- He's never told us his real name.
- I've forgotten it.
Pleased to meet you.
Mr. Byam, I should never
have gone ashore.
England's only an island,
and all islands are alike.
I'm going below. Bear a hand.
Easy, now. Easy.
Oh, Tommy, I'm afeard.
This ship's unlucky.
They've changed the name.
Well, I changed your name, didn't I?
Was that unlucky?
Oh, Tommy.
One, two...
Three of us in here?
My dog at home has a bigger
kennel all to himself.
I can see we shall be as friendly
as tomcats in a sack.
Mr. Stewart? Mr. Byam.
Drop in anytime, Byam.
I'll be just 10 inches away from you.
- A pleasure, Mr. Stewart.
- I hope you'll like the ship.
- I'd like any ship, Mr. Stewart.
- Johnny Newcomer.
Oh, yes, Mr. Byam,
the amiable Mr. Hayward.
- How do you do?
- Mr. Hayward has been two years at sea.
And a man who's been two years at sea
should know how to lash his hammock.
Yours looks like
a Frenchman's knapsack.
All right. On deck, all of you.
Mr. Maggs?
This here Captain Bligh, sir.
Now, you being ship's clerk...
...would you call him a gentle officer?
If I was you, I wouldn't be
calling him anything.
Oh, no, no, no, Mr. Maggs, no.
Never call anybody anything.
But I do hope he is gentle because I'm
his messman and I frighten so easy.
It runs in our family, Mr. Maggs.
My mother was frightened by
my father before I was born...
...and I've been frightened ever since.
Do you know there's times when
I can hardly hold a glass in my hand?
Silence. The captain's coming aboard.
Company, atten!
Mr. Christian, clear the decks
of this rabble.
Very good, sir. Clear decks.
Everybody ashore. Clear decks.
- Mr. Fryer, we sail at six bells.
- Sail at six bells.
- We got our rights here.
- Off ship, Joe. Off ship.
I'm not going until the ship sails.
Hey, you can't do that!
Flogging through the fleet.
We're included.
Quite a compliment to
the Bounty, Sir Joseph.
Mr. Christian, pipe the ship's company
at five bells to witness punishment.
Would you care to see the flogging?
No. The only discipline
I know is science.
There's science in using a
cat-o'-nine-tails. Watch my boatswain.
I really must be off.
I came aboard merely to introduce Roger.
Goodbye, my boy.
This won't be all cakes and ale, Roger...
...but your family's followed the sea
for seven generations.
Not one ever failed in his duty.
In a tight place,
that's all you'll need to remember.
- I'll try to, sir.
- Sure you will, my boy.
- Goodbye, Mr. Bligh.
- Goodbye, Sir Joseph.
What does it mean, sir,
"flogging through the fleet"?
Sentence of court-martial,
two dozen lashes at each ship.
What was the man's crime, sir?
Struck his captain.
But that's over 300 lashes.
I don't understand why...
Can you understand this?
Discipline's the thing.
A seaman's a seaman, captain's
a captain. And a midshipman...
...is the lowest form of animal life
in the British navy.
Now
Мятеж на Баунти Мятеж на Баунти

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