Original subtitles

Subtitles by explosiveskull Sync by NAIM2007

(DRAMATIC DRUM BEAT)

(SEABIRDS CRY)

(DISTANT ENGINE RUMBLES)

(CHILDREN PLAYING)

(DOOR SHUTS)

Evenin', Mrs Peters.

- Evenin', Martin. - Lovely day.

Yeah, lovely. Feel like autumn's comin', don't it?

Should have a fish or two for you in the mornin'.

MRS PETERS: Proper job.

(CAR ENGINE STARTS)

(SEABIRDS CRY)

(SEABIRDS CRY)

See you later, Dad.

(CAR DOOR SHUTS)

How was the drive?

Awful. Seven hours.

Same.

Never mind. We're here now.

Yeah.

(BOAT ENGINE RUMBLES)

Oi!

- Can I borrow it? - No!

- Can I hire it? - No!

BOY: I'll buy one.

- You're not using them. - Give it 'ere.

Go play on the beach.

Alright?

Hi.

When'd you get down?

Just now.

You out tonight?

Maybe.

See you later, then.

(SEABIRDS CRY)

(BOAT ENGINE RUMBLES)

(RADIO PLAYING)

Yew.

Yew, wasson?

Nothin' much.

Gettin' many?

Not enough.

(BOAT ENGINE RUMBLES)

WOMAN ON RADIO: It's a very difficult industry

and remember the margins here are...

WOMAN ON RADIO: ...are because of the supermarkets...

(GLASS SHATTERS)

Yew.

Right bud?

Need any help?

- Nothin' doin'. - No?

Soon.

Ain't you got better things to be doing on a Friday night?

Skint.

Alright, boy?

- Alright, Dad? - Wasson?

Nothin'.

D'you wanna come out with me tomorrow? Could do with the help.

Nah, you're alright.

- Need the money, don't you? - Not that much, he don't.

You got something to say, Martin?

Just said it, brother.

What about you?

I'm fishing.

Offer's always open. You come back whenever you want.

No thanks.

See you later, then.

Back for tea?

NEIL: Maybe.

- MARTIN: Neil. - NEIL: Yeah?

Wanna haul the net with me 'morra?

Yeah.

- I'll give you a knock about six. - Cool.

Just the man!

I'm going to have to ask you again not to leave your truck outside.

It is private parking.

And people might bump it.

MARTIN: Don't worry 'bout that, she's pretty sturdy.

(TIM SCOFFS)

(RADIO PLAYING)

BOY: Can I stay in the net loft?

Can I?

It's booked.

Not until tomorrow.

The cleaner's been.

- So? - Yeah, I'll move it.

I'm going home now, anyways.

Hi.

- Where are you off? - Out.

Thanks.

Katie?

- Yeah? - Don't be back too late.

Okay!

Buddin' fisherman, y'got 'ere.

WOMAN ON RADIO: And the pound going up would benefit farmers.

One person said to me, "I don't think it'll make that much...

MARTIN: They're probably mine.

WOMAN ON RADIO: ...I do my shopping and pay my bills every week

- so it doesn't make much difference. - I doubt it.

I've lost enough of 'em.

I bought them online.

WOMAN ON RADIO: A question I put to a man...

Didn't like the pantry, then?

Needed modernising.

Nice porthole, though.

WOMAN ON RADIO: It was the response from the director

of the Food and Drink Federation, who represents some of...

Very nautical.

(CLOCK TICKS)

You didn't have to sell us this house.

Didn't we?

(RINGING TONE)

(POP MUSIC PLAYS)

- Cheers. - (INDISTINCT CHATTER)

- When'd you get down? - Last week.

Any parties?

Yeah, a few.

(TOILET FLUSHES)

(DOOR CREAKS)

Mornin'.

Alright, Mar?

Good night?

Yeah.

Yew.

Wasson?

Boy 'ere?

Didn't come home.

I went in the house.

- What house? - The old house.

(RADIO CHATTERS)

What's it like?

Been modernised.

All bleddy ropes and chains, though, y'know?

Look a bit like a sex dungeon.

Hm.

MAN ON RADIO: ...people are estimated by the government to be victims

- of forced labour... - They got a porthole.

(BRAKE CREAKS)

(ENGINE SPUTTERS)

MARTIN: Wakey, wakey! Hands off snakey!

(THEY GROAN)

Fuck off!

(HE GROANS)

Fuck off!

MARTIN: See you on the beach.

(RADIO PLAYING)

WOMAN ON RADIO: So, then what I understand from you is that Dr Fox's...

...effectively grant ministers the power to write law behind parliament's back.

Isn't that just a coded way of saying...

Piss off, Hugo.

(DOOR SLAMS)

WOMAN ON RADIO: Well, the bill was published just 24 hours after the deadline...

Don't forget that Dr Fox wasn't interested in what businesses

trade unions and other affected parties had to say on the subject.

(HE SIGHS) Here she is.

Dirty stop out!

WOMAN ON RADIO: So, a wide-ranging market access agreement with the US

requires a bonfire of those...

You do need to let us know if you're not coming home, darling.

Sorry.

WOMAN ON RADIO: ...does not want to give parliament any means of obstruction.

WOMAN 2 ON RADIO: Exactly, negotiations will be tough

and Britain, as the junior party, will be forced into some ugly compromises.

Arguments in Westminster about the desirability of importing

chlorine-washed American chicken is that it's an early sign of things to come.

WOMAN 1: If we think back to the referendum

we remember the economists saying there will be clear-cut advantages

- to leaving the EU. - (KNOCK ON DOOR)

We would regain control over fishing rights around our coasts...

Bass?

How many you got?

- Four. - Could do with more.

All I got.

How much?

Thirty quid.

(DISTANT CREAK)

Cheers.

Got yourself a helper, then?

Crew.

You haven't got a boat, Martin.

- Will have soon. - Yeah, at your prices!

See you dreckly, Liz.

This way.

- (BABY BABBLES) - Sorry about the parking.

WOMAN: That's okay.

SANDRA: But if you park in the car park for now, we'll reimburse you.

WOMAN: Thank you.

(SEAGULL CRIES)

(BABY WHINES)

SANDRA: Here we are!

It's an old fisherman's net loft.

WOMAN: This looks lovely!

SANDRA: It was totally derelict when we bought it.

WOMAN: Really?

Oh, wow!

There's some milk, some local cheese and a bottle of fizz in there for you.

And a homemade cream tea.

WOMAN: Thank you.

Shall I leave these here?

- Yeah, they're yours now. - Yeah?

Yeah, you might wanna wear 'em in the pub, pull more posh birds.

Shut up!

Mornin', Jacques!

Am I done?

Yeah.

(SEABIRDS CRY)

Cool.

(DOOR OPENS AND SHUTS)

(POP MUSIC PLAYS)

- (BABY GURGLES) - SERVER: Two sea bass?

WOMAN: Thank you.

SERVER: Bon appétit.

How's Wenna gettin' on, then?

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Alright, Mar?

Behavin' yerself, bird?

Yeah, man.

Stayin' out of trouble?

Yeah, man.

Check that out.

MARTIN: Ell up.

- WENNA: Know who that is? - MARTIN: Yeah.

WENNA: He's wasting his time with her.

- Yeah? - Yeah.

Ow's she gonna suck his dick with that plum in 'er mouth?

Wenna!

Can't understand a bleddy word she says, neither.

There's one over there, right, who's so fuckin' posh

I honestly thought he was speaking German.

MAN: Scuse me, are you serving?

Glasses.

Ya, ya, ya, ya!

Shit pub anyways, innit?

Wenna!

Can't even get on the pool table.

I'm warning you!

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

If only we had something to cook on the fire.

Hey, Hugo?

Piss off.

(INAUDIBLE CHATTER)

I'm gonna go.

Kay.

(SEABIRDS CRY)

Wasson?

Nothin' much.

New net?

Another net.

More money in lobsters.

With what boat?

Shoot a pot in the old ring bolt.

(WAVES CRASH)

(SEABIRDS CRY)

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYS)

Alright, Mar?

Boss lady around, is she?

Upstairs.

MARTIN: Liz?

LIZ: Down in a sec!

I'll have a shot.

- No. - Go on, I'm playing next anyway.

There's money down, squirt.

Don't matter, it's winner stays on.

- No it isn't. - Tis.

- Pot anything? - No.

Go away.

Alright?

Want some lobster?

Maybe. How many you got?

None yet. Couple of days, though.

You got yourself a boat?

Nope.

Shootin' a pot down the gully.

One pot?

Tis a start.

Oh, Martin.

Oi, what you doin'?

Why don't you just go back working with Steven for a bit?

No way.

- WENNA: Oi. - Earn a bit of proper money.

WENNA: Oi!

- What? - I got bleddy principles.

I'm playin' you now.

No, I'm going to give him one more chance.

Oh, come on, Martin.

Nah, it's winner stays on.

- Usin' father's boat to take anglers out? - Look.

'Ee'd be spinnin' in his grave and you know it.

- Shut up. - You could be a bit more supportive, Martin.

- Supportive? - You can play in a minute.

- Yeah. - Supportive of 'im?

- Come on, play fair. Winner stays on. - It's not your turn.

He lost his wife, for God's sake!

- You've been on here ages. - Yeah.

Because we had money down.

- Don't work like that. - Yes it does.

- He's got a boy to bring up on his own. - I'm playing you.

- He idn' doin' that very well either, is he? - You're not!

- I am! - D'you think 'e gives a shit

how he earns his money?!

- Well, he fuckin' should do. - I'm warning you.

Fuck off, dickhead.

Will you lot shut the fuck up?

Now you do it!

(FOOTSTEPS)

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Take it off, now.

We can't.

- It's the parking company. - You own the street!

- You have to phone the clamping company. - I'll get the number for you.

I don't want the fuckin' number.

D'you want me to bust it off?

If you want to.

No!

It's not something we can get involved with.

You own the bleddy street.

You can't just park there all day.

It's fine you picking stuff up and dropping stuff off...

I work at the harbour. I'm a bleddy fisherman!

Are you? Where's your boat?

Parking needs to be controlled.

- There's usually room in the car park. - Why can't they park in the car park?

Because they pay to be able to park outside.

Never been no issue til you party come along.

Now all of a sudden...

- Not really sudden... - It is all of a sudden.

- Y'only been 'ere five minutes. - TIM: Martin.

I'm going to end this conversation now.

We're sorry, Martin, but losing your temper isn't going to help.

I haven't lost me temper yet.

Okay, Martin.

(DOOR REVERBERATES)

Keep it.

Sorry?

Bugger idn' hardly worth anything anyhow.

Okay. It's up to you.

I'm just tryin' to earn a living, you know?

So are we.

Scuse me.

(FOOTSTEPS IN SLOW MOTION ECHO)

- What you doing, Mar? - Nothin'.

WENNA: You been clamped?

MARTIN: I think so, yeah.

WENNA: Who done that?

MARTIN: Who do you think?

WENNA: Pricks.

MARTIN: What you doing?

WENNA: Kicked out the pub.

- MARTIN: What for? - WENNA: Dunno.

- MARTIN: You work there. - WENNA: I know.

- Put up a fight, did yer? - Nah, shit pub, anyways.

I got the last laugh, anyhow.

(DOOR OPENS)

What are you doing, Martin?

It's between me and the clamping company.

Why don't you just fuck off?

MARTIN: Wenna.

Wouldn't it be more sensible if you just paid the fine?

And wouldn't it be better if you just fucked off?

Wenna, shut up! - Do you want me to call the police?

Do you want me to get you a medal?

That's enough. Leave it, Tim.

It's alright, Tim, we're going.

- We don't have to go, Mar. - I know, love.

But we are.

(METAL CLATTERS)

(ALARM WAILS)

For God's sake!

TIM: Come here.

SANDRA: Get in! Oh!

(ALARM WAILS)

I'm fine.

Wenna!

(DOOR CREAKS OPEN)

(ENGINE STARTS)

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

(BOAT ENGINE RUMBLES)

Excuse me!

Scuse me!

Do you know what time it is?

It's not even seven o'clock!

You've just woken us up!

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

This is supposed to be a relaxing break!

- What's going on? - (BABY CRYING)

Look!

(BABY CONTINUES CRYING)

- (BOAT ENGINE RUMBLES) - Scuse me!

E's gotta go to work, what do you want him to do?

Well, do it later!

Shouldn't be making this kind of noise til at least eight o'clock.

I think it's actually illegal.

You gonna change the tides for 'im?

What?

Do they really have to do that now?

I'm afraid they do. They're fishermen. It's a fishing village.

You're actually making more noise than they are.

(BABY CONTINUES CRYING)

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

(SEABIRDS CRY)

Make sure you leave some fish for the rest of us.

MARTIN: Cheers.

What about these lobsters?

Morra.

We'll haul the pot tonight.

(DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES)

WENNA: Back in a minute.

Yew!

Alright, Mar?

Let you out then, did they?

Yeah.

Charge yer?

Nope, not yet.

Right, well, keep your bleddy head down from now on.

Yeah, man.

You got any money, Mar?

(ENGINE RUMBLES)

(WOOD PIGEON COOS)

- Wardy y'tuss? - Alright, Brian, wasson?

Ah, not much.

- Still fishin'? - Nah, do this now.

- Full-time? - Yeah.

Bleddy hell.

- Alright, is it? - Spot on, bud.

Ideal.

You still fishin' the Buccaneer with your brother?

Nah, he takes trippers out now.

Ah, pretty.

Fleece 'em for all them worth, I say.

Yeah.

What's 'e doin' in winter?

Dunno.

Soon find out.

- You got a boat, though. - Eh?

You got a boat.

Yeah. How much do I owe?

Hundred. On the nose.

- 'Ow much? - Hundred.

You get a cab all the way back from Cambourne?

Yeah, man.

No wonder you stopped fishing, Bri.

Pretty.

See y'gen, Wardy.

Hope not.

(DOG BARKS)

MARTIN: Keep comin', boy.

Keep haulin'.

We've been had, 'ere.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

NEIL: Fuck it!

Chill out, mate!

Fuck off, prick!

Oi!

Calm down.

Get changed.

- Right? - We not shooting the net?

No.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Get on with it.

Wasson?

Nothin'.

(LIVELY MUSIC PLAYS)

(FOOTSTEP ECHOES)

Martin!

Martin!

Martin!

Martin!

Martin!

Martin!

(MUSIC: "EYES ON THE PRIZE" BY THEA GILMORE)

? Paul and Silas thought they were lost ?

? Dungeon shook and the chains come off ?

? Keep your eyes on the prize and you roll right on ?

? Hold on ?

? Hold on ?

? Keep your eyes on the prize, and you roll right on ?

? Well, the only chain this girl can stand?

Alright?

? Keep your eyes on the prize ?

Good.

? I'm gonna board that big greyhound ?

? Carry this love from town to town ?

? Keep your eyes on the prize ?

Martin. A word, please.

? Hold on ?

? Hold on... ?

I just wanted to check in about your truck.

You lot gotta be in charge of everything, ent yer?

How's yer head?

Fine.

Not been knocked out by any more teenage girls, then?

You can't just park where you like,

you live in this community.

Oh. "The community".

Yeah. The community.

"Your" community.

Our community!

- Do you wanna take this outside, gentlemen? - I can't speak for everyone...

You give it a bloody good go, though, dun't 'e?

I don't speak for everyone, but as a resident...

- Tourist. - As a homeowner...

- As a tourist. - As a business owner...

- And a tourist. - As someone...

A tourist. Chairman of the pretty committee.

- As someone who spends a lot of time... - About two months.

- Investing a great deal of money... - In yer tourist business.

- In supporting local industry! - What fuckin' industry?!

- LIZ: Oi, oi, oi! - The tourism industry!

- (MARTIN LAUGHS) - What?

- Where's the industry? - All around!

There in't no industry. We don't see a penny.

What are you talking about?

You fuckers bring everything down with yer and take it home again!

- What about the people who come in here? - She pay slave wages

and spend the profit in the Maldives!

LIZ: I buy fish off you, Martin!

For a few weeks in the summer, then you piss off the other side of the world!

Your old man wouldna shut the pub in the winter.

Bleddy disgrace, you are!

- Sell-out! - Get out!

Why don't you go home?

Was gonna say the same to you, you prancin'

Lycra cunt!

Out!

I'm gone.

(MUSIC CONTINUES) ? Hold on ?

? Hold on... ?

Shit pub, anyways.

Don't even play "Winner Stays On" no more.

? Hold on ?

? Hold on ?

(WATER BOILING)

I'm not happy about this.

The boy's finally used some initiative.

What we gonna do? Put it back in the sea?

Put it in, woman.

- (WATER SPLASHES) - Done.

(HIGH-PITCHED RINGING TONE)

(GUITAR STRUMS GENTLY)

Hugo, I saw your sister with that kid again earlier?

No, you didn't.

In Spar?

Fuck off.

I did as well, actually.

He better not have touched her.

Course he has.

Shut up.

Pub?

Yeah.

- (INDISTINCT CHATTER) - (INDIE MUSIC PLAYS)

- (INDISTINCT CHATTER) - (INDIE MUSIC PLAYS)

- (DOOR SLAMS) - (MUSIC STOPS)

(RECORD SPINNING SILENTLY)

(WATER BOILING)

(CLOCK TICKING)

Martin.

What is it?

Thank you.

(CLOCK TICKING)

Scuse me?

Which one is Martin Ward's house?

One on the end, my love.

Go round the back.

Thank you.

(SHE KNOCKS ON DOOR)

Hello?

Martin?

(SHE KNOCKS ON DOOR) Hello?

Martin?

(DOOR OPENS)

BILLY: You wanna be shooting strings at tens, not singles.

How?

Buy the boat.

Ain't got the money.

Yes you have.

Alright, Mar?

Where are you off to now?

- For a walk. - Wear a condom.

Oh...

Alright, my love?

I'm buying a boat of me own.

Yeah?

Just a punt, but 'tis a start.

Fuckin' 'ell.

Alright with you?

What, so I'm on the crew?

You are the fuckin' crew.

I want you on the quay first thing, start sorting pots.

Eight-ish?

First light, you prick.

(ENGINE RUMBLES)

(MAN VOMITS)

(COUGHING)

Chill out, mate.

(MAN CONTINUES TO VOMIT)

If he could see you now, he'd be spinning in his grave.

Yeah?

Yeah, you know it.

Do I?

In there somewhere.

STEVEN: Is that right?

(CHUCKLING) Yeah.

D'you know what he'd say, don't ye?

What the fuck do you really know about anything, Martin?

I know he'd still be fishin'.

Yeah, yeah.

MARTIN: I'm getting a new boat.

Are ya?

Cause we ain't gonna work this one no more, are we?

Like I said, offer's open. You come back whenever you want.

I'm talking about fishin', not fuckin' hospitality.

I'm takin' Neil on, too.

- Don't talk daft. - It's what he wants to do.

How does he know what he wants to do?

And you do know?

Open your eyes.

(SEA ROARS)

(UNDERWATER SOUNDS)

(DOOR OPENS AND SHUTS)

(SEABIRDS CRY)

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACH)

What you doing?

Hugo?

What are you doing?

What are you doing?

I'm telling Mum you're hanging around with him.

Don't be such a baby, Hugo.

You go home now.

No.

You're disgusting.

(FAINT HEARTBEAT THUDDING)

(HEARTBEAT POUNDS)

Stop!

(WAVES CRASHING)

(WOOD PIGEON COOING)

- Mornin'. - MAN: Yew.

(DOOR OPENS AND SHUTS)

(CLOCK TICKING)

(CLOCK TICKING)

Steven?

They knocked Mother's pantry down.

(WAVES CRASHING)

(BOAT ENGINE RUMBLING)

(SILENCE)

Subtitles by explosiveskull Sync by NAIM2007