Original subtitles

They saw many men on foot.

All starving.

He met them?

"We saw a captain there.

The one called 'Aglooka.'"

Ask him...

if one of these men is the one he's calling "Aglooka."

"He spoke in our tongue.

He was dying."

"He pointed south,

says they were going overland, home."

"But they could barely walk."

"And with Tuunbaq behind them."

"Tuunbaq"?

"Behind them, coming. Always coming."

Someone was pursuing them? An Esquimaux?

"From the shamans."

"The thing that eats, on two legs and four."

"The thing made of muscles... and spells."

I don't understand. Is he describing a man?

Sorry, Sir James.

I don't know what the hell he's describing.

What did Francis say?

Aglooka?

"Your friend took my hands.

He said, 'Tell those who come after us not to stay.'"

"The ships are gone.

There's no way through. No Passage."

"Tell them we are gone."

"Dead...

and gone."

Billy, take this one up with you

and don't let him down until he can do becket bends with his eyes closed.

Yes, sir.

- Come on, then. - Captain.

Captain, sir.

Daily observations are starting to make for bizarre reading, sir.

Well, magnetic north wanders miles every day.

We're within its circle now.

It will be tall headlines for the men.

Terror is signaling, Sir John.

Captain Crozier requests an ice report.

Shall I send Mr. Reid back?

No. Tell Francis James and I will be joining him for dinner.

Mr. Terry!

Open the flag box!

Word has it they have not yet run out of beef tongue on Terror.

Tell Mr. Diggle

Sir John and Commander Fitzjames are coming aboard to dine tonight.

He can choose whatever he likes in my storeroom. He'll enjoy that.

- Yes, sir. - Did you see them?

I saw them.

Of all the hardships of Discovery Service,

this may be the toughest, Thomas.

Keep it to three courses, it will be over before you know it.

Not with Fitzjames there.

We'll have to hear his whole saga

about policing that massive islet of guano off the coast of Namibia.

Or the time he got shot by the Chinese.

I'm inclined to put the food in my ears.

- One more go. - Let it go now.

Pull away on the rope.

That's it.

Welcome aboard, Sir John.

Captain Fitzjames.

If we're near the pole, we'll see King William Land any day.

Look who's an expert.

Mr. Farr showed me on a chart.

Past King William Land

we get to the American coast, and it's all mapped out from there.

Hello, boy.

That thing whined all night. Must be sick, or got a scent.

With the right wind, he can smell bears at a mile.

What rank is that dog?

You ever wonder that?

He's on deck most nights, so I'd guess you could call that watch duty.

I don't know. That would make him an AB, or a marine.

But he walks the quarterdeck, so that makes him a petty officer at least.

Right? And some nights he's back there in officer's country.

Petty officers can't sleep aft.

So that's considered a wardroom officer?

What would that be?

A mate? A lieutenant?

Are we still talking about this dog?

It's of consequence, isn't it?

Putting a dog above a man. Who serves who?

It's a ship's dog. We put up with it.

I haven't settled the matter of spirits for tonight.

But is there anything special you require, sir?

More open water clear to the Pacific,

and then we can go home.

We're close, sir.

Be careful how you use that word, "close."

This is the Discovery Service.

"Close" is nothing.

It's worse than nothing.

It's worse than anything in the world.

Well, the brigades already ashore

were catching every kind of fire, so I was bringing up the Congreves.

- The rockets? - Yes.

Ironic, considering it was the Chinese themselves

who had pioneered the things.

We shot the marksmen down off the city walls and we started up.

As I climbed the ladder, I was thinking of...

Caesar crossing the Rubicon.

We reached the top, and I saw the city of Chinkiang

laid out before us, wavering in the morning heat.

And the soldiers in the alleys below started using their matchlocks on us,

those muskets for which you carry a lit taper at all times.

But in such dry conditions...

when we would shoot one of them,

they would fall down on top of these tapers

and they would catch fire like tinder piles.

So soon the whole city was dotted

with these lone columns of personal smoke,

and the whole view smelled of roast duck.

And then... we rushed down into the streets to assist the 49th,

which we could hear was under attack.

We came upon a pack of Chinese behind a street barricade.

And I had just loaded a rocket and aimed

when I was pierced.

Single musket ball, the size of a cherry.

It passed clean through my arm and kept on in,

making a third wound here, entering my chest.

Shot that killed Lord Nelson at Trafalgar.

And had it not used up most of its energy on my arm,

yes, I might have ended same as he.

They finally got me back to the Cornwallis,

where it was our very own Dr. Stanley who dug out the shot.

It turned the war. The Chin'g mission signed the treaty five weeks later.

By which time I was up and about,

my arm in a sling, smiling for the official portrait. Have you seen it?

Tell us about Birdshit Island, James.

That's a capital story.

Mr. Reid and I chatted about the ice today.

He tells me we've started sailing past slabs

he thinks are not part of the summer break-up.

- Old ice? - He's not concerned.

We're close to an intersection with some bigger channel

coming from the north, bringing bergy bits with it.

But it means our little summer straight is likely coming to an end.

It has yet to be named,

and I thought Sir James Ross

could be honored thusly.

Hear, hear.

Do you approve, Francis?

He'll be very pleased.

It's on account of the magnetic energy here.

I heard when Sir John got as far as he got in '23,

his hair grew two inches in a week, and they weren't even close to here.

Is that why you signed on, then, Strong? To get your two inches?

You alright?

Young?

David?

David?

David!

Turn him over! He can't breathe!

Get a doctor now!

Come on!

Roll him over!

I don't want to be the first one to say the word, Sir John,

but we're all thinking it.

None of the three who died at Beechey showed any sign of it.

And even if it's the case now, we will be in the Pacific

before it has a chance to don its undertaker's weepers.

Your confidence is reassuring, of course.

You're not confident?

With all our progress?

I don't know why. We've all but found the Passage in a year.

We're not rowing drekars, after all.

In this place, technology still bends the knee to luck, James.

Sir.

We've given the boy a Dover's powder and settled his spasms.

He's resting now, as he can.

But he has dark blood in his stool.

Digested blood. He's bleeding above his colon.

- That's a vivid description. - Is it scurvy?

I see nothing to mark it as such, but can't rule it out.

But if I were to wager a guess at this point,

I'd say the patient's consumptive.

- It doesn't always attack the lungs. - Dr. Stanley should examine him.

Perhaps he can discern something more.

- I'll send a gig for him. - There's no need.

We'll take him with us.

Young? In his condition?

Yes. Wrap him up well and have our boat readied.

I would hesitate to move him, sir.

I don't frankly know how much spirit the boy has left in him.

A bit of cool air will freshen him.

He'll be tucked up just the same in half an hour.

Steady now.

Ease away.

Oh, Francis, tell your cook "yes" to the calf's head,

"no" to the capers he cooked it with.

For future visits.

Good night, Francis.

Try to shake the brown study.

All is well.

All clear. Heave away.

There is nothing worse than a man who has lost his joy.

He's become insufferable.

And he's a lushington to boot.

We should be better friends to him, James.

I can't work out why he's even here.

He despises glory -

even the glory of a good pudding -

and he looks down on we of the wardroom.

I tell you, one glance from him,

I have to remind myself I'm not a fraud.

I will not have you speak of him uncharitably, James.

He is my second.

If something happened to me, you would be his second.

You should cherish that man.

Sometimes I think you love your men more than God loves them, Sir John.

For all your sakes, let's hope you're wrong.

Ready, all!

Ready to let go of the bow l...

Man overboard! Starboard side!

All hands on deck!

Get eyes on the man in the water!

Who's marking him?

There! Stand back.

Grab the line!

Give me room!

Give me room!

Collins, no!

Let me try!

That seaman wouldn't want you to risk more!

- Billy Orren, that's who it is! - He's gone!

What I fail to understand is why you chose not to speak up

when you began feeling this take root.

Wide.

I've been getting headaches all my life.

I didn't think nothing of it.

And we've been drinking that squeezed lemon every night.

Crew is under strictest orders to come forward if unwell.

I would think burying three of your mates on Beechey

was sufficient motivation.

The lemon juice is not a cure-all.

I didn't want to disappoint Sir John.

Well... he can praise your loyalty as he buries you.

We can't spin the propeller, nor retract it.

Mr. Reid is certain we've caught a growler under the surface.

So is it blocked?

Yes. Yes.

Mr. Gregory thinks there must be ice wedged up in the prop well...

but we won't know until first light.

He all but assured me if we can clear out our jam, we'll be underway.

Good.

That's all for now, then, Graham, since we don't appear to be sinking.

Wake me if that should change.

Algonquian, massacred by Mohawk.

Did that disturb you?

Which part, Francis? The savages, or that they became Catholics?

I have a question for you later.

No question is needed, Francis.

But you'll hear me out.

Sir James Ross at Farthest South.

If you believe that depiction, you've dropped a stone at least

since we've been back.

And seen a dentist as well, apparently.

Ladies and gentlemen, it is our great honor to find up in the boxes tonight

the actual Sir James Ross!

Get up, old man.

Bravo, gentlemen. Bravo.

You should stand up.

I don't want you to do to me what you did to Tom Hartnell's brother.

That was for the good of the crew.

We needed to know if it was scurvy killed John Hartnell.

I want to go to my grave as I am.

Don't cut me open.

Do you promise?

If Sir John orders it done, we must do.

You may be a warning of things to come.

Hold... Hold fast, David.

If Sir John orders it...

I will do it.

Do you know...

sometimes...

when people are near passing...

I've heard they speak of a radiance...

like a million daybreaks all in one...

in which loved ones are there to welcome them over.

We grew up at the Foundlings.

I never knew my father.

Or my mum.

Then...

Then there will be the angels...

with songs lovelier than you've heard.

Will I fly?

Up to God?

Yes.

You'll see the Passage first. Then, as you go...

try to call back and let us know where it is.

I wanted to be here...

when we found it.

Do not fear it, David. I have been there when souls have passed.

A great peace descends.

They... They're glass.

But the ring is plate.

It won't fetch much, but my sister should have it.

It's a nasty jar, but...

but I can't get it off.

I can ask cook for some grease, or I have an oil of castors.

When you're sure I'm gone...

find a way.

And don't tell Sir John I was afraid.

You have my word.

There's nothing to be afraid of.

He's been going on like that since the wind died.

Something's got him worked up.

Take your wigs off.

Don't you hear that?

Give me your glass.

Yeah.

Don't drop it. It belongs to Lieutenant Irving.

Put a thumb in it.

No.

No.

No.

No!

- No! - David.

No!

- No! - David. David.

Wake Mr. Blanky.

Do it now.

No. No!

No!

Run! Run!

- He wants us to run! - David, calm down.

- No! - David.

Come.

Sorry to disturb you.

- David Young has passed. - As if that weren't plain.

Cover him and get some rest, Mr. Goodsir.

Do the postmortem in the morning when the men go up.

Is it necessary?

Sir John has a flea in his ear about scurvy.

He will ask.

Something...

transpired at the end.

He was seeing something I couldn't see.

Holding its gaze as if it was in the room.

Do I really need to explain what is an hallucination?

He had no fever. He was clear-eyed.

Good night, Mr. Goodsir.

Look at the snow on those bergy bits.

That's not summer break-up. That's coming down from the north.

It's pack ice.

There are leads but...

How was the cold last night?

It dropped. Twenty.

Is Erebus aware?

Well, no flags as yet,

but no doubt they woke thinking of their propeller.

If Sir John doesn't convene a meeting of the officers by ten, I'll do it.

You're about to surpass us all, son.

You're going somewhere no man has ever been, not even a native.

If it is ice wedged behind the propeller and you can pry it out,

well, you'll have grabbed the ring twice in one morning.

Right.

Observe my signals.

One pull on the tube means half a fathom's slack.

Two means the tube is kinked, likely on the gunwale. Three, pull me up.

If water floods the suit, it will be exponentially harder to lift me

and exponentially more urgent, so be ready on the line.

A surgeon should be here.

They're just below, Mr. Collins. Proceed.

You're a pilgrim to the deeps.

And remember, God lies in all realms.

Steady!

Pull me up!

Hold steady!

You wouldn't call this cirrhotic.

And his gall...

I don't see scurvy.

- I don't see anything at all. - Open the bowel.

Propeller's bent.

One of the blades.

I pried some ice from behind.

- I think she'll spin now, sir. - Is there anything else to report?

- No, sir. - Capital job, Mr. Collins!

Graham, let the engineers know, and signal Terror.

Have Captain Crozier bring his lieutenants.

Sir.

We need to confer about the ice that's in front of us now.

I envy you, Mr. Collins.

I have long wanted to move below.

What was it like?

Like a dream, sir.

News is in about Erebus.

While she can still make headway under steam,

the flagship's efficiency has been compromised.

How badly compromised?

She can still pull two knots, maybe three, with the boiler full up.

- Half-power, more or less. - Yes.

As well, we know that the ice ahead is increasing dramatically,

both in thickness and amount,

but we must be nearly in sight of King William Land.

Then it isn't but another 200 miles

before we can pick up the western charts

and draw in this final piece of the puzzle once and for all.

Hear, hear.

Our situation is more dire than you may understand.

A dramatic opening shot.

Please. Go ahead, Francis.

That is not just ice ahead...

it is the pack.

And you are proposing that we cross it in September.

Even with leads, it could take us weeks of picking our way through it.

We may not have weeks.

Well, weeks at most.

You've seen the sun dogs, Graham?

How many have there been now?

Three.

It's already a colder year than last.

- I've been to the Arctic, Francis. - On foot.

And you nearly starved.

Not all of your men returned.

I say this with all due honor.

For God's sake, Francis.

A captain is due his candor.

So what would you propose instead?

- Wait out winter here? - No.

The exact shape of King William Land is unknown.

As we discovered with Cornwallis Land,

it could be King William Island,

with a chance to sail around its eastern shore.

Yes, but east would add miles. We might not be out this year after all.

But only because Erebus is lame.

If we consolidate all our coal on the less-damaged ship

we'd have enough to go for broke and get east of King William Land,

possibly around it, before winter.

It's our best, and probably only, chance.

Yes, we should go for broke.

Abandon Erebus? Is that what you're saying?

If it is a dead end,

we can over-winter in complete safety out of the pack

in some sheltered harbor.

We retrace our steps come spring.

Tired of one another, no doubt, but alive.

That is an interesting speculation.

But of course we will not be abandoning Erebus, nor Terror...

should she suffer some minor misfortunes.

- We are almost there, gentlemen. - Hear me, John.

It won't matter if we're 200 or 2,000 miles from safe water.

If the leads close up and we are out there in it,

we'll have no idea where the current will move the pack,

of which we will be a part.

We could be forced onto the shallows on the weather side of King William

and crushed to atoms,

if we're even upright by then.

As a trusted friend once put it...

"This place wants us dead."

Who is this friend? Does he also write melodrama?

Sir John: myself, Mr. Blanky and Mr. Reid.

Only four of us at this table are Arctic veterans.

There will be no melodramas here.

Just live men...

or dead men.

It's certainly good to see color in your cheeks again, Francis,

but we are two weeks from finding the grail.

And it is my belief that God and winter

will find us in safe waters by the end of the year.

The Sandwich Islands, or even further.

If you're wrong, we are about to commit an act of hubris...

we may not survive.

You know what men are like when they are desperate.

We both do.

I shall continue to command from Erebus,

but due to her injuries I'm putting Terror in lead position.

She's not the better ice-breaker, but she's the more powerful ship now.

Bury your boy, Young,

and we'll be on our way, west,

around King William Land, as planned.

Bury?

Yes. A mercy.

It was a long night.

Long ago in Westminster.

There lived A rat catcher's daughter.

We could have just dropped him overboard and been done with it.

Sir John's a spiritual man.

- I'd say an impractical one. - Careful there.

What, is that treason, Sergeant?

Should have run more nails through that lid.

Pull up the ropes and fill it in, Mr. Hickey.

Me?

Mr. Hornby tells me you have the most duty owing. Didn't tell me why.

Grousing, probably.

Are we just going to leave it like that?

Unless you want to climb in there and fix it, yes, we are.

Hop to it, Mr. Hickey.

Mr. Hickey.

It's not important.

Sergeant Tozer said it's not important.

It would be to this boy's father.

Help a mate up.

And Jesus saith unto Thomas,

"Because thou hast seen me,

thou hast believed.

But blessed are they that have not yet seen...

but still believe."

And just as David Young is at the gates...

so, too, are we.

And now is our moment to stride through them,

to our glory and to our destiny.

I have set a course south-southwest.

We will see the North American mainland

within a fortnight, gentlemen.

We must now begin our last and best efforts to reach her,

as we become the greatest Argonauts of our age.

We shall earn our loved ones' cheers

and embraces at our return.

Onwards, men!

Huzzah!

Right, lads...

Man the braces!

Drop sail!

- Hard to starboard! - Hard to starboard it is, sir.

- Hard to starboard. - Go into it, men.

Let's meet it with force.

Steady. Ready now.

There should be more men picking here!

Why is there only one man picking?

Alright, men! Stand back!

Right, everybody, fall back!

Our Lord and Father will see us through.

Whatever morning brings.

Get the ice anchors up. We're part of it now.

Sir.

Fix our position with care, Mr. Reid.

I want to know exactly where we are in relation to King William Land.

Yes, sir.

When the men are fed,

have them begin pulling the tarp up.

Mr. Gregory can start drawing down the engine for winter.

Your demeanor should be all cheer, gentlemen.

You understand? It will be tight, but that's what we signed up for:

an adventure for Queen and country.

An adventure of a lifetime.

That's what you tell the men.