Christian, sir.
Take a look at this, sir.
Supper for six men.
Four pounds, they calls it.
If that weighs more than 2,
I'll eat the cat-o'-nine-tails.
- It ain't pig. It's horse meat.
- We pulled our hearts out for this breeze.
- And what do we get? We starve.
- Well, little meat, no distemper.
Keep the wind in the sails
and out of your stomach.
If it's any comfort,
the officers are in the same boat.
Not Captain Bligh.
He's getting fat, the dirty, thieving...
Burkitt!
Any more of that,
and I'll clap you in irons.
Yes, sir.
Buckoes. Buckoes.
Here's your supper.
- Thompson, get your hook and line.
- Right.
See him? He's a big one, eh?
- Here you are, Burkitt.
- Right.
Well, we've got to have bait.
Sharks ain't seamen. They expect to eat.
We've got to have bait.
- You want to risk this for a meal?
- Aye.
- I'm willing.
- Yeah.
If the hook don't kill him, that pork will.
Let it go.
There he goes. There he goes.
- Got him.
- On deck with him.
- Easy, now. Easy, now. Easy, now.
- Hold him.
You first, Burkitt. Choose for your mess.
- Thanks, mates.
- Yeah, fine catch you've got there.
You know I must have a slice, eh?
- Shark eat shark?
- You forget yourself.
You give me a slice, a nice, large one,
and I'll say nothing.
Tell him, you slimy quill-pusher.
Take your slice!
[VIOLIN PLAYS]
[GROANING]
[FOOTSTEPS]
At ease, lads. At ease.
Well, how's our shark-killer, huh?
He's cut to bits, sir.
He'll be all right.
What's a flogging?
A few blows and a few "ohs,"
and then you put on your shirt.
- Here.
- Thank you, sir.
Now, if you'd lost a leg, my lad...
I left mine with a Spanish pirate
off the coast of Trinidad.
A bullfighter did the trick for me.
He was so drunk he nearly
cut off the wrong leg.
Hey! Here.
You'll be all right.
A bit tattooed on the back perhaps,
but just the right style for Tahiti, eh?
- Hey, fiddler, give him a tune.
- Aye, sir.
- Good night, lads.
- Good night, sir.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
[SINGING]
Listen, Byam. You can flog
those fellows, starve them...
...but they'll bob up again with a fiddle.
- Music at sea...
...I never imagined
how beautiful it was.
BLIGH: Master-at-arms,
stop that infernal jamboree.
- It's worse than two cats on a fence.
MAN: Aye, aye, sir.
The old death's-head.
I've never known a better seaman,
but as a man, he's a snake.
He doesn't punish for discipline.
He likes to see men crawl.
I'd like to push his poison
down his own throat.
You both have one thing in common,
the devil's own temper.
He can let his go...
...but whether I can keep mine bottled
up for the next two years is a question.
I believe you will.
Whatever happens, I'll always
be glad I've known you.
I'll remember that when you're
an admiral. Good night, youngster.
Good night.
- More tea, sir?
- No, you get out.
Yes, sir.
- You sent for me, sir?
- Yes, I've got a job for you this morning.
- Sit down. Had your breakfast?
- Yes, thank you, sir.
I want you to sign the list
of all supplies issued on the voyage.
Certify and sign.
We should raise the island anytime now.
Not a bad voyage so far.
All hands accounted for.
Only six down with scurvy.
Five with scurvy, one with flogging.
Correct, there's your credit.
Five with scurvy, one with flogging.
We're still under canvas.
Mr. Bligh, I can't sign this book.
No such amounts have been issued.
You've signed daybooks with extra kegs
the ship never carried.
- I have, sir.
- And why not? We all do it.
We'd be fools if we didn't
on a lieutenant's pay.
I want to stow away enough
to keep me out of the gutter.
I understand, a captain's prerogative.
Ordinarily, I wouldn't mind.
Why is this case different?
The captains I've served
with didn't starve their men.
They didn't save money by buying up
the stinking meat.
They didn't buy yams
that would sicken a pig.
Silence!
They didn't call their men thieves
and flog them in the bone.
- Impudent scoundrel! Sign that book!
- I