All language subtitles for The Onedin Line - 01x07 - Passage to Pernambuco.iNT.DVDRip.XviD-ARCHiViST.English.orig.Addic7ed.com

- That's the lot, sir.
- Thank you, Mr Baines.

- Well, square away.
- Vigo-Porto-Lisbon, was it, sir?

That's right, Mr Baines. We sail with the flood.

I shall have the new house looking as pretty
as a picture on your return, James.

Be five weeks or more
before the owners move out.

You may still be here when I return.

Oh, I can't wait to get away from this place.

It's such a lovely house,
such excellent proportions.

- It should have, at ã25 a year.
- Five rooms.

Yeah, ã5 a room.

I wish I was sailing with you.

Ah, now, look, in six weeks or less, I'll be back.

Somebody must remain
to deal with Elizabeth's tantrums.

She spoke hastily out of fear, no doubt.

- She'll marry Daniel Fogarty.
- Yeah.

Well, she'd better pray
that he doesn't change his mind.

She certainly sent him away
with a flea in his ear.

It's her condition, James. It's only natural
she should be somewhat temperamental.

Elizabeth has been temperamental
since she was a squalling child,

I'm out of all patience with her.

Young Frazer's besotted with her.

A little encouragement on both sides
and she could well have been mistress of a...

- Shipyard?
- Well, why not?

Marry the master, not the servant,
if marry you must.

She certainly has her share
of the Onedin temperament.

Well, now, look, you must see
that the banns are read without delay.

- I?
- Well, who else?

Robert has all the qualifications of a jellyfish,

and Sarah stops her ears at anything
that smacks of an indelicate nature.

- No, you must deal with that.
- Well, I'll try, but Elizabeth is wilful.

Well, she'll come to her senses.

Concentrate her mind on the benefits
that accrue from being a seaman's wife.

I shall miss you, James.

Aye, well, you'll be buying furniture
and making curtains.

- You've got those window measurements?
- Yes.

Well, you'll have plenty to keep you occupied.

Your father should be good company.
Well, I'll...I'll be off aboard, then.

- Shall I accompany you to the wharf?
- No.

No, one goodbye's more than enough.

Bye, James.

- Oh, Albert! Albert!

Albert!

Oh.

Elizabeth.

Albert, what am I to do?

Marry me.

I can't.

- Why not?
- They insist upon my marrying Mr Fogarty.

- Who insists?
- All of them.

James, above all.

James?

The devil he does.

And Daniel will be returning
from Denmark shortly.

Do you love him?

I don't know.

If you're unsure, you don't.

Those in love are positive.

That I do know.

Marry me, Elizabeth. Marry me.

That's impossible.

Why?

- Your parents.
- What of them?

They'd never agree.

We shall not tell them.
We shall not tell anyone.

We shall elope?

Oh, Albert, you're such a romantic.

Renew this halyard,
if you please, Mr Baines.

New chafing leather for the boltropes.

There are scotchments in the shrouds.

New halyards, chafing leather
and a pair of new chafing battens.

- Aye aye, sir.
- That's right, Mr Baines.

I like a smart ship, Mr Baines.
A smart ship and a clean ship.

Land's End.
Lay off a new course, Mr Baines.

- Me, sir?
- Why not?

About time you learnt
to put all that theory into practice.

I'll master you yet.

I walked past it this afternoon with...

It's a lovely house. You're so lucky, Anne.

Me cooped up with Robert and Sarah
and that squalling child.

I've no doubt that Daniel Fogarty will see to it
that you have an establishment of your own.

- Poor Daniel.
- Poor Daniel?

I imagine he considers himself quite fortunate.

I haven't said I'd marry him.

I only apologised to him
for saying I wouldn't, that's all.

- You have no choice, Elizabeth.
- There's always a choice.

Not in your circumstances.

You know why it happened?

- I felt sorry for him.
- Sorry for him?

You throw a crust to a beggar
and now I must be content. Is that it?

I was foolish.

And Daniel can be very persuasive.

You can be married quickly and quietly
and none the wiser.

Quickly and quietly and none the wiser?

- What are you scheming now?
- Scheming?

I've seen that look too often in James's eyes.

James tries to impose his will on everyone.

Do you deny that you're carrying out
his bidding now?

- What?
- Has he not insisted the banns are read

while he's away?

- Sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.
- What do you mean?

Albert Frazer has asked me to marry him.

- But you cannot possibly.
- Why not?

If I can marry Daniel Fogarty
quickly and quietly and none the wiser,

why can't I marry Albert Frazer
on the same terms?

- Surely the reason's obvious enough.
- Not yet, it isn't.

You cannot propose to father
another man's child under Mr Frazer.

- The very thought is monstrous.
- He need not know.

Oh, be sensible, Elizabeth. It cannot be.

Daniel has a great affection for you.

I'll not be a sea captain's wife.
Never, never, never!

You should have thought of that
before you gave...

You will settle down, Elizabeth.

As a captain's wife you'll be mistress
of your own house.

I've seen their houses,
each with its widow's walk.

Many captains take their wives with them.

I've no taste for shipboard life, thank you.

When I marry Albert Frazer,
I shall want for nothing.

Money. So that's what's turned your head.

And why not?
Seems to have turned everyone else's.

Why shouldn't I have my share?
You made certain of yours.

- What?
- For what other reason

did you and James marry?

Your brother and I
did not deceive each other, Elizabeth.

Albert Frazer loves me and wants to marry me.
Why should I refuse?

And when he discovers the child is not his?

The child will be his, and his alone.

Beautiful river, the Tagus, Mr Baines.

The ship's yours. Take her to Lisbon.

Aye aye, sir.

A fine wine, Señor James.

15 years in the cask.

- Smells of geraniums.
- The last of a great harvest.

I fear there will be no more like it.

Oh, there'll be plenty more
good years to come yet.

- I think not.
- Oh?

We have a saying, wine is not made
in the vineyard but in the cask.

Like most proverbs, only partly true, for if
there are no vines, there can be no grapes,

without grapes, no wine.

- You've had a bad year, then, eh?
- On the contrary, a magnificent year.

But soon my vines will be destroyed.

Devastador, the ravager,

a terrible little beetle we call "the destroyer".

It feeds on the roots of cultivated vines.

Already in France, the regions of Bordeaux,
Médoc, Entre-Deux-Mers

have all been devastated.

It has now reached my neighbour's vines.

- Yours will be next, eh?
- I shall be ruined.

- Is there no cure?
- Only one.

- Replenish with new stock.
- Oh, where from?

- North America.
- America?

Nah, they've only got the wild grape there.

Bitter as gall.

To each man his trade.
It is healthy wild stock that I need.

- I shall graft my vines onto them.
- How many do you need?

- One hundred thousand.
- A hundred thousand?

That'll require three or four journeys
for a ship of the Charlotte Rhodes' capacity.

One voyage only.
I must have those vines in time for planting.

- When?
- When the rains come. Within three months.

Well, there's nothing for it, friend,
but you must charter a ship

- with capacity enough to carry all your vines.
- It's not possible, I've tried.

But the only ships available are sailing
for the Mediterranean, for Africa, India, Brazil,

anywhere but North America.

I had hopes of that one, the Pampero,

- but, alas, she is bound for Pernambuco.
- Pernambuco, eh?

Pernambuco. She could pick up
the northeast trades

and the westerlies to Baltimore.

What cargo does she carry?

Salt and corkwood.

- Buy her, my friend, buy her.
- What?

- Buy her, cargo and all!
- I'm no ship trader.

Aye, but I am. And I'll not stand by
and see you ruined. Besides, I need your trade.

But to buy a ship and cargo?

Now, look, give me a half-share in her,

I'll undertake to sail her out, sell the cargo
and return with your vines within 60 days.

One moment, James.
You travel a little too fast for me.

Not only am I to buy a ship I do not want,

but now I'm to give half to you?
No, no, my friend, you drive too hard a bargain.

You'll go a long way
before you find a better one.

Look, give me five years
to buy out your share.

If during that time I cannot,
the ship becomes yours,

you can sell her, return your money, you know.

Er...also we share the profits
of each and every voyage

as though we were equal partners.

How can you lose, eh?

Five years' profit.

And your purchase price refunded.

And your vines shipped free of charge,
for no man can make a profit out of himself.

Not all men, perhaps.

Well? Are we agreed?

- A five-year option?
- Within five years.

But that would mean that if you were
to buy me out in, say, two years,

I should forfeit half-profits for three.

Aye, but then your money
would no longer be tied up in a ship.

It's known, I think, as, er...
robbing Peter to pay Paul,

and I suspect that I am Peter.

And who will pay for the fitting
and repairs to the ship? Peter or Paul?

Look, I'll undertake to keep the ship
in seaworthy condition,

it'll be to my advantage -

I intend to own her.

Very well, my friend,
get me those vines from America

- and we shall own her together.
- Agreed.

Sauciest vessel I ever did see, sir.

We must drive her, Mr Baines.
Men and ship, drive 'em hard.

A new crew, and heathens to a man,
by the cut of their jib, but I'll haze 'em.

Hey, you!
Move, you dozy, sleepy-headed farmers!

Contramestre! Liven 'em up!

I was very friendly
with a Portuguese girl, sir.

Nearly fool enough to marry her.

We have visitors, sir.

- Capitão Onedin?
- I am.

May I present myself for his excellence,
Dom Vasco Baptista.

- My papers, excellence.
- Oh?

Passengers?

The ownership of this vessel
has changed hands.

But not the charter, Señor -

passage to Pernambuco.

- I have no accommodation.
- It was being arranged.

But womenfolk.

They are like animals,
and are expected to breed like animals, eh?

There is the matter of my baggage, Señor.

Then your animals can haul it aboard.

Mr Baines, heave up the anchor, if you please.

- Stand by to get under way.
- Aye aye, sir!

We've, er, little time for niceties here.

To whom are you writing?

- My father.
- Will he be pleased?

He'll be furious,

until he sees you.

Then he'll melt.

♪ She melted the hearts of the swains
in them parts ♪

- And what of your family?
- Oh, they will be most impressed.

They think you a splendid catch.

And so do I.

Do you want children, Albert?

A son.

Then you shall have one, I promise.

This is not a prison ship, you know, Señor Vasco.

But of course not.

Those men had the marks of the gyves
on their wrists.

Ah, they are known to be
men of villains, Señor Capitão.

- Peasants, thieves, incendiarists.
- What?

Mmm, they set fire to the vineyards
of my master, Dom Pedro de la Cruz.

A less generous man than Dom Pedro
would have hung them out of hand.

I suppose, out of the generosity
of his heart,

he sends them to his estates in Brazil.

Passage paid. Indeed.

They are the most fortunate of men.

Glad I'm not as fortunate.

The land was always ours,
it was never in dispute.

We kept goats, for goats gave us milk,
meat, clothing.

Then the patrão sends soldiers
to break the land for vineyards.

The patrão pounded vineyards?

We were made to break our own land ourselves.

We worked from sunrise until after darkness,

and for wages, we receive blows.

Sarita's father spoke to Dom Vasco of this.

- And?
- Dom Vasco hung my wife's father

from a tree,
and then burned down the tree.

Had my grandfather been alive, he would
have killed Dom Vasco where he stood.

Grandfather?

He was a British soldier,
he was big as an ox.

He fought with your Willington.
He was a great man, your Willington.

So that's where you learned to speak English.
Your grandfather taught you?

My grandfather was a stubborn man,
he would speak nothing else.

He demanded that the men of the family
spoke English.

Someday, he said, we would go to England.

It was a dream he had.

And after they hung your wife's father,
then what?

We were not as my grandfather,
we were covardes.

Covardes? Cowards?

We ran away.

But that night we returned
and set fire to the best vineyards,

knowing that for this
the patrão would punish Dom Vasco.

Did he?

He forbade Dom Vasco to marry Dona Lucia.

And is he not also going to Brazil?

You spoiled his marriage prospects,

had him exiled to some godforsaken state
in the middle of nowhere.

- He's gonna love you for that!
- Oh, he will kill us all.

- If we do not kill him first.
- Not aboard this ship, you won't.

- Come in, Robert.

Ah.

Well, we've, er...
we've had a letter from Elizabeth.

- Oh?
- Well, just a brief note

to say that she's well and happy.
Gloriously happy, is her phrase.

I-I just thought that you might like to know.

- You approve of the match?
- Of course I do.

She couldn't have done better.
I never did care for that chap Fogarty.

- Frazer will make an admirable husband.
- But her condition.

Sarah and I have had a long discussion,
and we're both of the same mind.

It's nothing but a young girl's fancies.

There was nothing fanciful
about her situation when I last spoke to her.

A young girl knows nothing of such things,

it's no more than the vapourings
of an overwrought imagination.

- When the child is born...
- Really, Anne!

You astound me.

Such a... Such an imputation is...
is just not worthy of you.

If, and I say if,
their union should be blessed,

it will give no one greater satisfaction
than Sarah and myself.

Oh, Robert.

I grant you that Elizabeth has seemed
somewhat fickle of late,

but that's no more than her temperament.

No, now she's chosen -

and chosen well, in my opinion -

she'll settle down and make a splendid wife.
You'll see.

So everything's to be for the best
in the best of all possible worlds?

Anne, I just don't pretend
to understand your attitude.

The kindest interpretation
I can put upon it is that...

Well, that you yourself have not yet
experienced the joys of parenthood.

- Robert!
- There's no more to be said!

- Ostrich.

Appears to be backing, Mr Baines.

Shifting to sou'east.
We'll make poor time this trip, I reckon.

Time is our enemy, Mr Baines.

Time.

Don't! Release her!

She attacked me, look.

Aboard this ship, when I give a command,
I expect to be obeyed instantly.

She is my property to do with as I choose!

Disobey my command and I shall hang you.

- She cut me, look.
- Of course,

if you think a little scratch worth hanging for,
by all means proceed.

And this insult to my person
will be reported to authority

the instant we reach Pernambuco.

- Mr Baines?
- Sir.

I've come to a decision.

We shall avail ourselves of the winds.

Stand by to come about. We head for Baltimore!

- Anne?

- From James?
- Aye.

The Charlotte Rhodes has arrived, huh?

- He's sailing for Pernambuco.
- That's right.

He sent the Charlottes Rhodes back
with the Portuguese sailing master in charge.

- He's taken a half-share in a clipper.
- What?

Oh, no. Then he'll have put us all in debt again.

James knows what he's about.

"Be away for three long months
and will write in more detail later."

James writes a short letter
and wastes little time on salutations.

Well, consider yourself fortunate, because
he's written to me here in considerable detail.

I'm to pay off the crew,
I'm to arrange to put the wine into bond,

write to a dozen or so wine merchants,
informing them of the safe arrival of the cargo,

and ask him for their instruction.
And, further, look -

"You are to dispose of a part cargo of turpentine
at a profit of not less than 20%."

Now, how the devil am I to dispose
of 450 gallons of turpentine?

To the manufactures of paint, I imagine.

Yes, but I know nothing of buying
and selling cargos.

And where am I to find the money
to pay off the crew, eh?

And-And vittle the ship to boot!

He must think that money grows on trees.

You must arrange for the company to pay.

Company?

You're an officer of the company,
you simply make out a draft

to be drawn upon
Onedin Line & Company Limited.

- Oh?
- I shall enter it into the books

to be accounted for on James' return.

Ah.

Ah, well, er...

Look, further, he says, erm...

he requires that the Charlotte Rhodes be
packed off to sea again

with a minimum of delay and with a full cargo.
Now, of what, I ask you?

And where to?

How can I possibly calculate what some...
some Frenchman or German or, I don't know,

Polander, if you like, may be prepared to pay
for unspecified goods?

Robert, you're a shopkeeper, aren't you?

Buy a large quantity of something
you know to be in demand

and ship it to a country in need.

Well, I fancy that states the case clearly enough,
eh, Señor Vasco?

Let me remind you once again, Señor Capitão,

that passage money has been paid

and you have undertaken to deliver us
to Pernambuco,

and not to any port which takes your humour.

A ship sails to where it can show best profit.

Now, there's as good a market in America
for salt and corkwood as anywhere else.

- But that is not the issue.
- But that's precisely the issue.

Señor Braganza has invested
in ship and cargo for one purpose,

that purpose is the procurement of
American vines and their return without delay.

That and that alone is my chief concern.

I can assure you, Capitão,

that on my return, my patrão will have
something to say on this matter.

In Portugal, the patrão is a man
of considerable influence and authority.

But you're not in Portugal,
you're aboard my ship,

and aboard my ship there's only one man
of influence and authority - me.

In that case, you may care to exercise
your authority when we reach Baltimore.

I'll see to it that my people remain below
and in chains.

In chains? Not on board my ship.

Well, they will run away!

Well, then you'd better keep
a sharper eye on them.

They are your responsibility.

As passengers, not as prisoners.

Ten minutes to three.
Where the devil are they?

- They're not coming.
- What?

We've been boycotted. It's the dealers -
ganged up and formed a price ring.

You sell through them or no one at all.

They're trying to shove a bill through Congress
making ship auctions illegal.

They call it the liberty of the individual,
taking a profit from both ends.

Damn middlemen.

Pocket the profit
and grow fat at the expense of others.

- Well, I'll deal direct.
- Not possible.

Dealers have the monopoly.

- Well, to whom do they sell?
- Housewives, butchers, fishmongers,

meat packers, picklers,
everybody uses salt,

but there's none to be had
except through their dealers.

850 tons. We can't go from door to door
selling it in twopenny blocks.

There must be somebody somewhere
with an eye to a profit.

- The dealers.
- Aye, and I suppose

there's a dealer in vines as well.
Ah, the country's gone to the dogs.

Well, the backwoods are infested with vines -
they're there for the picking,

all that is required is the labour.

Oh?

- But there's none of that to be had.
- Why?

Everybody's off building railroads.

Two dollars a day. Phew.

No wonder they call it an Irishman's paradise.

- Irishman?
- Aye.

Shiploads of them digging their way
across country like dogs digging for bones.

Mr Baines, they do say
that an Irishman lives off potatoes...

and a handful of salt.

Now, anything that moves,
shoot it, skin it, cook it.

Keep 'em fed, but keep them working.

I want navvies, pick men, layers,
lumber men. Which are you?

- I'm not looking for work.
- Then you're wasting me time.

- Beat it.
- How many men do you employ?

- Not enough.
- But they all require salt?

Salt? No, mister, I can buy all the salt I need.

Aye, at $4 a ton from the Baltimore factors.

I could let you have a shipload at $3.50.

- There's a shipload?
- Aye, 850 tons.

And what in the name of creation
would I be wanting with 850 tons of salt?

- Push your railroad through on time.
- What?

You can't cook without salt,
preserve fresh meat without salt.

Without salt, a man becomes debilitated,
lacks the energy to swing a pick.

- 850 tons?
- Store it, use it, sell the surplus.

- To whom?
- Oh, there's always a market for salt,

plenty of eager buyers -
warehouses are more than half-empty,

and there's no natural source of supply
in this country.

Wrong, mister, there is.

Out there, there's deserts of salt,

and one day
we'll build a railroad right across this....

- Aye, aye, right, but not today.
- No deal.

I'm in the railroad business,
I'm no salt merchant.

So you're content to meet the terms
of these grasping Baltimore middlemen?

You'll do the same, you'll sell to them
or nobody. You've got no choice, mister.

Captain. And I do have a choice.

I'll sail me ship and cargo elsewhere.

Always a market for salt.

- Until you build your railroad, of course.
- Well,

I'd like to be able to oblige a captain,

even if it was only to skin those thimbleriggers,

but I can't afford to invest $3,000
of me company's money

into something that's not strictly associated
with railroad business, sorry.

What would your company
say to an investment of ten cents a ton?

Ten cents a ton,
you must be out of your mind.

A purely nominal figure.
You see, I've got something you want

- and you've got something that I want.
- And what will that be?

- Vines.
- Vines?

Now I know you're off your head, you're crazy.

The only vines out here
are those of the wild grape,

shrivelled little things, bitter as gall.

Ah, you see, but I require the roots,
not the grape.

Well, then help yourself.
Around here they grow like weeds,

we burn them by the cartload.

- How many men do you employ?
- Oh, about 2800.

I want 100,000 vines. That's 1,000 men,
one day's work, 100 vines each.

Man alive, I'm building a railroad,
not planting the Garden of Eden.

Now, I can't call in men off track-laying,
I've got a contract to fulfil.

Without salt?

- Five cents a ton? Out of me own pocket?
- Mm.

Right, we'll store them
in bundles of 50 wrapped in straw.

My crew can look after that side of it,

I've half a dozen Portuguese vine-tenders
who can oversee your navvies,

you can have the salt at eight cents a ton.

Done. You've got yourself a deal, Admiral.

Oh, just another thing, er...
where can I get a thousand tons of grain?

My people,
you are permitting them to go ashore.

As a work party under my instructions.

But this is insupportable. They will run away.

If you're so concerned
about your property, Señor Vasco,

then why not accompany them?

You have my permission.

Thrust myself alone out there in the forest?
I should have my throat cut.

Then you must resist your
natural anxiety and stay aboard with me.

I promise you, Capitão, I promise you,

the moment we return to Lisboa,
I shall have you arraigned before a magistrate.

If you get ashore, that'll be your privilege.

We returned by railway train -
first class, of course -

and we had lunch served
by the handsomest waiters you ever saw.

It can't be imagined,
eating York ham in positive luxury.

And at 50 miles an hour -
that's steam power for you.

Albert, we must go.

- I'm so happy for you both.
- I wish Albert's parents were.

- Oh?
- Mother adores you, Elizabeth.

But your father had other plans for you.

It was an understanding.
My views were never even consulted.

- A great moon-faced girl.
- But the daughter of a ship owner.

Father, he will come round given time.
He must.

- I mean, who could resist her?
- Albert, we must hurry.

- Goodbye, Anne
- Goodbye, Anne.

- Goodbye.
- Robert.

Take care.

Frazer is a fine addition to the family,
a fine addition.

You have a receipt and a bill of lading,
I believe.

Oh, right, right.

I have bought, on behalf of the company,
and direct from the wholesalers,

- 2,000 rolls of linoleum.
- 2,000?

Yes, there's a ready market for it in France.

The wholesaler assures me
that the French will pay anything

- for best quality English linoleum.
- The wholesaler has assured you?

- Yes.
- Has he offered any guarantees?

Well, not exactly, no, but...but...

But it's an old, established firm,
and they have my absolute trust.

No, I sail tomorrow
on the Charlotte Rhodes as supercargo

and as a director of the company.

Now, James himself couldn't do more.

I've seen the last of the vines safely stowed
in the 'tween decks

and the grain battened down in the hold, sir.

I've checked the trim of the ship. We're
drawing 15 feet for'ard and 17 feet aft, sir.

Thank you, Mr Baines. Well done.

Well, here's to a fair wind
and a fast passage, eh?

We'll sail at daybreak.

- Right. All hands aboard?
- Only two, sir.

- Only two?
- The rest are off to build a railroad

- for your friend M'Guire.
- What?

They jumped ship,
M'Guire enticed them away

with promises of whores and high wages.

Well, then we'd better ship
another crew immediately.

There isn't an able-bodied man
to be found within 50 miles.

They're all off building railroads,
it's become a mania in this country.

I can't work this ship without a crew.

If Señor Braganza doesn't get his vines on time,
I lose my share of the ship.

The, er...the peasants are back aboard, sir.

Mm? Six of them, eh?

You speak their lingo,
do you...think you could lick 'em into shape?

Aye. You and I can stand wheel
and wheel about,

sail under half our canvas.

Aye. Put the two women into breeches
and they can do a man's work, eh?

What about Señor Vasco?

We're now British sailor, yes?

You're now serving aboard a British ship.

- We go to England?
- Well...

if Mr Baines can make sailors out of you
and your work is satisfactory,

I see no reason why you should be discharged
in any port but one in the United Kingdom.

Thank you, thank you, Capitão.

- We will work like dogs.
- You cannot do this.

Those men are in my charge,
they are my property.

Have you got a contract to that effect?

But of course not. It is understood.

Well, not by me.
But I do have a contract.

See, these men have just signed articles

and now are subject to all lawful commands.

Not you, Señor Vasco. The law says that
if I consider the ship to be at hazard,

I have the power to call upon
all members and crew alike

to render such assistance as I may see fit.

We now come to your appointment, Mr Vasco.

When we are in England,
we shall drink English ale and grow fat,

and have many children,

and they will go to school
and learn to read and write like Mr Baines.

I'll teach you one day, Felipo,
if you have a mind for it.

I would never understand
all those little marks marching across the paper

like little black soldiers.

- I will learn.
- Reading and writing is not for women.

It's for important men, like Mr Baines.

- I would like to compreender reading.
- It is too difficult.

Oh, there's nothing to it,
once you know the trick of it.

I mean, I myself, I often read a newspaper,
if I have the time, like.

Even your grandfather could not read a jornal.

My grandfather was a soldado. It is well known
that soldiers do not read and write.

But when we are in England,
we'llvisit my grandfather's village,

- in "Odishfiled".
- Where?

- Odishfiled. It is in England.
- Never heard of it.

- I've heard of an Oakenshaw.
- No, no, Odishfiled, Odishfiled.

♪ On Ilkley Moor baht'at ♪
Heh-heh!

Huddersfield, that's where
your grandad came from, Huddersfield.

- Yeah, Odishfiled.
- And when he was tending the goats,

this is what he'd sing.

# Where hast tha been since I saw thee?

# On Ilkley Moor baht'at

# Where hast tha been since I saw thee?

- # Where hast tha been since I saw thee?
- # Since, since, since

# On Ilkley Moor baht'at,
on Ilkley Moor baht'at

# On Ilkley Moor baht'at

# Tha's been a-courtin' Mary Jane

# On Ilkley Moor baht'at

# Tha's been a-courtin' Mary Jane

# Tha's been a-courtin' Mary Jane

# On Ilkley Moor baht'at,
on Ilkley Moor baht'at

# On Ilkley Moor baht'at

# Thou's going to catch
thy death of cold

# On Ilkley Moor baht'at

# Thou's going to catch thy death of cold

# Thou's going to catch thy death of cold

# On Ilkley Moor baht'at,
on Ilkley Moor baht'at

♪ On Ilkley Moor baht'at ♪

Fire!

The grain must have been damp.

No doubt about it.
Ignited by self-combustion.

- Well, over the side with it, Mr Baines.
- You heard the capitão.

- Señor Baines!
- Felipo!

Help me! Help me!

Mr Baines! Mr Baines!

Felipo!

Felipo.

- Home-made.

Piping hot and swimming in butter.

Oh, no, thank you, Anne.

I don't think my stomach
will ever be the same again.

That wretched ship!

We were swamped all the way to France,
and then we rolled all the way back again.

And that filthy, revolting, greasy food -
not fit for pigs!

Something should be done about shipboard fare.

- You supply the vittles.
- Yes, well, it's my opinion

that James doesn't pay the slightest regard

- to the welfare of his people.
- James is fair and just.

He eats exactly the same food as the crew.

Yeah, well, he must have the stomach of an ox
and the digestion of a goat.

Well, then the matter rests with you,
you're the chandler.

Simply supply good meat instead of that offal
you buy cheap from your friend the butcher.

I don't think that I shall ever set foot on ship
again as long as I live.

Nevertheless, in my capacity
as an officer of the company,

I shall see... Pass the sugar, will you?

Responsible for the commissariat,
I shall see to it that, in future,

all ships of the Onedin Line have decent vittles
decently cooked.

And who is to pay for this resolve?

- The company.
- And how much profit

has the company made
from your linoleum venture?

I couldn't find a buyer for the damn...

Oh...

Yes, yes, a company that owns
several large hotels

have given me a decent price.

Only ã90 profit?

Only ã90? I wish the shop showed
as much profit in as many weeks.

You bought the linoleum on behalf of
the company against a bill of exchange,

- did you not?
- Yes.

Well, we now owe the discount house
ã52 10s in interest.

That leaves the company with an overall profit
of, er...ã37 10.

No, no, no. Look, net profit. Look, net.

Have you paid off the crew?

Not yet.

Oh, Robert, you have much to learn.

All under control now, sir.

- How much did we lose?
- Hundred tons.

About $3,000 worth.

Half to me, half to Señor Braganza.

He won't like that.

The man who expects a share in the profit
must also expect a share in the loss.

- Did you recovered the body?
- Burnt to a cinder.

I put it over the side in a basket.

Saw no reason why she should be
further distressed.

Yes, quite right, Mr Baines.

Well, haul up the main yards,
let's get under way again.

- Aye aye, sir.
- Señor Braganza's awaiting his vines.

Strutting peacock seems to be exercising
something of his old charm.

Old fears die hard.

They're frightened of him again,
now we're nearing Lisbon.

Sail ho!

She's a Portuguais.

Hauling a wind, heading due south.

Mr Baines, run up a signal-

- where are you bound?
- Aye aye, sir.

I refuse!

You paid for a passage to Pernambuco,
and a passage to Pernambuco you shall have.

I will not set foot aboard that other ship!

- You will.
- No!

I have been degraded
and insulted before those animals,

and now I will have justice.

Justice.

You dare to speak to me of justice?

Señor Vasco, aboard this ship I am the law.

But not ashore. Ashore, you are nobody.

I'm a cavalheiro, a gentleman,

and the word of a gentleman
will be taken above that

of an arrogant, upstart English captain.

My patrão Dom Pedro
is a man of honour and influence,

and when he hears of your treatment
of his property,

he will see to it that you spend
the rest of your life behind bars.

No, Señor Captain, this latest trickery of yours

will not enable you to escape the justice
of Dom Pedro.

I too have a patrão,
Dom Fermino de Deus Braganza.

Now, Señor Braganza too is a man of authority,

and a man of honour.

Whose word do you think he will accept, eh?

Well, you will be taken before a magistrate,
and he will decide.

In that case, you leave me no choice
but to put you ashore in irons to await trial.

Trial? What for?

- Murder.
- It was an accident.

- You killed Felipo!
- They will not believe you.

I have witnesses. Do you?

Señor Capitão, it is not possible for me
to go to Brazil alone.

Those men are in my charge,
they are the property of Dom Pedro.

They stay.

You have no right! They are citizens of Portugal!

I will speak to the capitão
of the Portuguese ship,

he will understand these things.

They sail under the protection of the Queen.

Try and remove them by force
and you commit an act of piracy.

The other captain will tell you the same thing.

You have ten minutes, Señor Vasco.

All hands aloft, shake out the sails, Mr Baines.

Let's get under way again,
Señor Braganza is awaiting his vines.

Aye aye, sir.
All hands aloft, ready to make sail!

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