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Come on.Come on.

Yes, yes, it's alright.

Wake up, Will.

Starboard bow ahoy!

Sir.

What is it, Slade?

I thought I heard something. It sounded like a bell.

Native fisherman perhaps.

Or a reef marker, sir.

Mr. Calamy, the lead, if you please!

By the mark, five fathom.

Five fathom!

Sand and broken shell.

Sand and broken shell!

What is it?

Two points off the starboard bow in the fogbank.

What was it? A sail?

- I don't know what it was. - Should we beat to quarters?

I can't be certain.

You're officer of the watch.

Hollom, you must make a decision.

We shall beat to quarters!

Rouse up! Rouse up!

Sleepers, awake!

Ready? Grab my hat and follow me up with a coat!

Aye, sir.

Move! Move along! Move along!

Jump to it, boys! Jump to it!

- Jump to it, man! - Cast off this gear!

Light along there!

Good morning, sir. Sighting in heavy fog.

Handsomely on the yards tackle!

Topmen aloft!

Get that cutter over the side now!

Where away?

Two points off the starboard bow, sir.

Not a mile distant.

Clear away your gear and stand ready!

Are you sure, Mr. Hollom?

Yes, sir.

Look alive!

Man-of-war?

I don't know, sir.

It was only for a moment. I thought I saw a shape.

- Did you see it, Mr. Calamy? - No, sir.

Well, you did the right thing, Mr. Hollom.

Go to your stations.

The deck's yours, Tom.

Sir.

Clear away and launch boats!

Slack away!

Get that last grate below and get to your station!

Quit your dawdling!

You heard the man!

Lower away!

Haul both your yard tackles!

Strike the bell!

Tighten up the truss tackles!

Trice up! Lay out!

Foretopman, let fly!

Now then, our George, haul away there!

Down!

All hands down!

Hands, to your stations!

Mr. Hollar, damage report, if you please.

At the helm, keep her steady!

What's afoot with that topsail there?

- 18-pounders. - At least.

We're gonna have to get closer to poke his eye.

Run out the starboard battery. Mr. Allen, come up on the wind!

On the wind, sir.

Lay me alongside at pistol-shot.

Sharpshooters to the tops, Mr. Howard.

Sergeant! Take your section into the main top!

We stand tall on the quarterdeck, son. All of us.

Aye, sir.

Mr. Boyle, run up the colours.

Aye, sir.

Note for the log, Mr. Watt.

"Engaged enemy frigate at six bells."

Aye, sir.

- Straight at 'em, Mr. Mowett. - Straight at 'em, sir.

Bill!

Leave the bloody swords! Get the Captain's silver below.

She's not in range yet!

Stand fast till she's close enough!

- Close with him amidships! - Midships it is, sir.

For God's sake, don't drop anything.

Steady!

Hold your positions!

Hold your position! Courage, now!

Hold steady, boys! Hold steady!

Mr. Pullings, sir.

Davies, Jemmy, get Mr. Pullings below!

Aye, sir.

Mr. Blakeney, pass the word for the Captain.

- Aye! - Clear the forward pin rails!

More sand on the floor!

On the up roll, fire!

Relieving tackles on the tiller!

You men, collect these wounded!

- Keep 'em spitting, Mr. Calamy. - Aye, sir.

Reload and give 'em hell!

Sir! To the taffrail!

The rudder's shot away. The steering don't answer, sir.

We're fish in a barrel.

Why are we not firing?

Let me through.

Here, Joe! Here!

Hold it in there!

- He's on the larboard bow. - Bring up your small arms.

Up, you fire-eaters, up!

Prepare to repel boarders!

Seize your weapons and wait for the word!

Your orders, sir?

Call the gun crews to deck.

Rig man-ropes over the stern and pull the boats in.

Put us in that fog, Tom.

Pull together, men!

Pull for the fogbank!

Run 'em out! Run 'em out!

Fire!

She's opened up a seam!

We need to get some oakum and pound it in.

Joe, a mallet and some irons!

- Get over here! - Lively, mate!

She's gaining on us!

- We're nearly there, boys! - Pull!

Pull!

Fire!

Pull for Lucky Jack!

- Pull into the fogbank! - We've done it!

Pipe down! Silence on deck!

They'll not find us in here!

Silence that man!

Quiet, lads.

No shouts, no calls.

Avast rowing.

Well done, lads.

2'6", sir.

And holding.

Good work, Mr. Lamb.

Thank you, sir.

So, what's the butcher's bill?

9 dead, 27 wounded.

Joe Plaice.

He has a severely depressed fracture of the skull.

I don't think he'll see out the night.

Lord Blakeney.

Just a broken arm, sir.

Well, you're in very good hands.

I'm doing everything I can.

I know you were close to his father.

His father would have understood.

He knew the life.

His mother, however...

Let me take a look at that brow of yours.

Damn, he was good. Just came out of nowhere.

Hit us with a full broadside,

cut across our tail, and took out our rudder.

Damn fine gunnery.

We only slipped away because of the fog.

Quite fortunate, really.

He may have had the weather gauge.

But we had the weather gods.

I have no idea precisely what it is you're talking about,

but he did seem to come off rather well.

7 weeks sailing and he happens in darkness

on our exact position.

The French have their spies in England and elsewhere.

As do we.

Indeed.

If he knew we were looking for him,

he could have easily stood to sea and passed well clear.

Well, then perhaps he was looking for us.

Frigate? If she was a frigate, then I am a Dutchman.

It was an unfair match. There was no dishonour in it.

She was more like a ship of the line.

A 2-decker, more than a frigate!

You have to wonder about the nature of her hull.

Our shots wouldn't penetrate.

Triple-shotted at 200 yards, and our guns had no effect.

She had the weather gauge and a clear advantage in firepower.

What is the weather gauge?

Shall I show you again, Stephen?

Not on the cloth.

She had the wind in her favour.

Therefore, control of the engagement.

She had the longer guns,

which meant she could hit us beyond our effective range.

The simple fact is we were soundly beaten.

Heavy frigate like that in the Pacific.

Could tip the balance of war in Napoleon's favour.

By comparison, the "Surprise" is a somewhat aged man-of-war.

Am I not correct?

Would you call me an aged man of war, Doctor?

The "Surprise" is not old.

No one would call her old.

She has a bluff bow, lovely lines.

She's a fine sea boat.

Weatherly, stiff, and fast.

Very fast if she's well-handled.

No, she's not old.

She's in her prime.

We can patch up the main and mizzen.

The foresail's too far gone, so we'll bend our spare.

Mr. Lamb is confident with basic repairs.

- We can get home as we are. - We're not going home.

But to refit, we need a port.

And the "Acheron" may be still looking for us.

We can refit at sea.

Here. Where it shoals.

As you said, Mr. Allen,

she is taking the war to the South Seas,

and we are supposed to stop her.

But, sir, with respect.

She's a vastly heavier ship.

She's out of our class.

She could be halfway to Cape Horn

by the time we're repaired and underway.

Well, then, there's not a moment to lose.

Aloft! Finish reeving the new halyards?

All stretched along and ataunto, sir!

Yo, boy!

Easy, I said, easy!

Is it true about how they put the last stitch

through your nose?

What do you mean?

Old Joe told me that when you die,

they stitch you up in your hammock

with the last stitch through your nose

just to make sure you're not asleep.

Not through the nose.

You'll tell them?

No!

It's alright.

It's just the laudanum speaking.

I've never seen a braver patient.

Handsomely.

Handsomely now, our William.

Poor darling.

Never mind. Soon have you fixed up.

Come on, I want good work now.

I'll need two men into the starboard forechannels.

This alright, Mr. Lamb?

That's nice work there.

Repair won't do here. I need these replaced.

Ask Mr. Lamb what he has in stock.

This rudder's got to look like it was newly minted.

Wrong root, Ned! Wrong root!

There's something might interest you here.

Look.

The Captain carved that

when he was a mid, no more than your age.

He's known this ship, man and boy.

He says there's enough of his blood in the woodwork

for the ship to almost be a relation.

I do understand your point, Mr. Allen.

Your knowledge in these areas is beyond question.

However, a week spent crawling

through the Brazilian rain forest

looking for a new mast simply will not do.

The "Acheron" will be halfway to China.

Mr. Lamb, as always, will do his best,

which is all I can hope to expect from any man.

Sir.

Is them his brains, Doctor?

No. That's just dried blood.

Those are his brains.

Physician, he is.

Ain't one of your common surgeons.

Can I have the coin, please?

Sir.

He wouldn't look at you for under 10 guineas on land.

And he knows his birds and beasts.

You show him a beetle, and he'll tell you what it's thinking.

Back to work, you loafers!

Eckhart, use your pipe.

Let's get on with it. Back to work!

You're not a pennyweight of use gawping here.

Still hasn't said a word, sir.

Sir.

Lord Blakeney.

Feeling better?

Much better. Thank you, sir.

Well, good. Good.

The doctor told me you were fond of reading, so I...

It has all of his major battles in it

and some very fine illustrations.

Thank you, sir.

Did you ever meet Lord Nelson, sir?

I had the honour and privilege of serving with him

at the Nile, a great victory.

You can find it in here, actually.

Page 135 if I'm not mistaken.

Yes.

May I beg you to tell me what kind of man he is?

You should read the book.

I will, sir.

Thank you.

Oh, here we go again.

Scrape, scrape, screech, screech.

Never a tune you could dance to,

not if you were as drunk as Davy's sow.

How about this?

Or are you in the mood for something more aggressive?

Three, four. One, two.

Salute.

Hats off.

What's all this about?

What's this?

It's the phantom, sir.

Excuse me. That's what the men call it.

It's the "Acheron," sir.

You see, Will here, he's seen her being built.

In Boston, sir.

During the peace.

She's Yankee-built, sir.

He was getting married there,

and his wife's second cousin, he works in the yards,

so Will here saw the ship out of water.

Sir, I saw there was something right strange about her,

so I asked Joe and...

He described it to me, and I knocked you up a model, sir.

And this framing is accurate?

Exactly accurate, sir.

Thank you, lads.

- Thank you, sir. - Thank you, sir.

Killick.

An extra ration of rum for these men.

- Thank you very much, sir. - Thank you, sir.

Which I was saving for Saluting Day.

We'll drink wine.

Oh, drink wine on Saluting Day.

Bluff above the water and sharp below.

Gives the hull a finer entry and a long run as she goes aft.

That's why she's so fast.

Heavier, but fast despite it.

That's the future.

What a fascinating modern age we live in.

Planking and framing like that would make her hull

two foot thick? Solid oak?

That's why we couldn't dent her.

Probably capable of making 12 to 14 knots.

Now we know.

Thank God for Warley and his wife's second cousin.

She could be doing up to 280 miles a day.

Even if we did catch up with her.

I mean, to take her...

She's out of our class.

She's a 44-gun ship.

She's still vulnerable at the stern like the rest of us.

Name?

My name is Maria.

Hey!

Give us some arrows. I give axe. Quick, mate.

Thank you, mate.

Gangway for the mail, please.

Here we are. Very important mail.

Letters. The first ship...

What's he saying?

A large man-of-war. French.

Stopped here on the 10th and then headed South.

Somewhere here.

A full three weeks ahead.

Damn.

Alright, Tom. Let's get all this squared away.

Aye, sir.

- Mr. Hollar! - Aye, sir.

Let us complete our business here.

Hands, prepare to weigh anchor!

Put that woman down, Slade!

This is a ship of His Majesty's Navy,

not a floating bordello.

All hands, get these provisions stowed.

Well done.

Gentlemen.

To wives and to sweethearts.

To wives and sweethearts.

May they never meet.

Mr. Howard, the bottle, the bottle.

The bottle stands by you.

Sir?

Excuse me, sir, but Mr. Blakeney said

you served under Lord Nelson at the Nile.

Indeed.

I was a young lieutenant, not much older than you are now.

And Mr. Pullings. Mr. Pullings was a snivelling midshipman,

still yearning for hearth and home.

Did you meet him, sir?

Can you tell me what he's like?

I have had the honour of dining with him twice.

He spoke to me on both occasions.

A master tactician and a man of singular vision.

He always said in battle,

"Never mind the manoeuvres. Just go straight at 'em."

Some would say not a great seaman, but a great leader.

He's England's only hope if Old Boney intends to invade.

Sir, might we press you for an anecdote?

The first time that he spoke to me

I shall never forget his words.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

He leaned across the table,

he looked me straight in the eye,

and he said

"Aubrey.

May I trouble you for the salt?"

I've always tried to say it exactly as he did ever since.

The second time.

The second time, he told me a story.

About how someone offered him a boat-cloak on a cold night.

And he said no, he didn't need it,

that he was quite warm.

His zeal for King and country kept him warm.

I know it sounds absurd, and were it from another man,

you'd cry out, "Oh, what pitiful stuff!"

And dismiss it as mere enthusiasm.

But with Nelson,

you felt your heart glow.

Wouldn't you say, Mr. Pullings?

You did indeed, sir.

Then he would seem to be the exception

to the rule that authority corrupts.

To Lord Nelson.

To Lord Nelson.

- To Lord Nelson. - To Lord Nelson.

Do you see those two weevils, Doctor?

I do.

Which would you choose?

Neither. There's not a scrap of difference between them.

They're the same species of curculio.

If you had to choose,

if you were forced to make a choice,

if there was no other response.

If you're going to push me.

I would choose the right-hand weevil.

It has significant advantage in both length and breadth.

There! I have you!

You're completely dished.

Do you not know that in the service,

one must always choose the lesser of two weevils.

"He who would pun would pick a pocket."

Really. Weevils.

To the lesser of two weevils.

To the lesser of two weevils!

Yay, Joe!

Whoo!

Dance!

The Lord taketh.

And the Lord giveth away.

You hear that?

He said something!

Doctor!

He spoke, Doctor!

Well done indeed, Stephen.

To you, Spanish ladies

Farewell and adieu

You ladies of Spain

For we've received orders

To sail for old England

We hope in a short time

To see you again

What a wonderfully true voice Mr. Hollom possesses.

Indeed.

Come, all you bold, young, thoughtless men

A warning take by me

And never leave your happy homes

To sail the raging sea

Come, all you bold, young, thoughtless men

A warning take by me

And never leave your happy homes

To sail the raging sea

On deck there!

Sail ho!

Looks like a frigate!

The question is "How did he get there?"

We have no alternative. We must turn and fight.

But he has the weather gauge again.

He must have been watching us from some inlet

and waited till we passed.

My God, what can we do?

He has us by the hip!

- Run like smoke and oakum. - We'll have to bend every sail.

We'll put up our pocket handkerchiefs if we have to.

We must survive this day.

Let's get about it. Mr. Allen, gentlemen.

- Aye, sir. - Aye, sir.

All hands, make sail!

This is the second time he's done this to me.

There will not be a third.

I tell you

the devil's at the wheel of that there phantom ship.

You better hold fast.

What is it with this man?

Did I kill a relative of his in battle perhaps?

His boy, God forbid?

He fights like you, Jack.

Bring the sun down to the horizon.

When its lower limb is touching the horizon...

Williamson, look to your sexton!

When the orb is no longer rising,

then it has reached its zenith.

- And that would be noon. - Sir?

- Did you make noon, Mr. Hollom? - Yes.

Call noon. It's your class.

Sir, that's noon.

Mr. Nichols, make that 12!

Six hours?

Five at most.

Just keep us out of her reach until nightfall.

She's to look like us, lads. Don't forget.

Jibbo, make fast those whips.

We didn't want to make it any taller, sir,

on account of this wind.

Excuse me, sir. What are they building?

Your first command.

Quickly. She'll be on top of us.

Take the weight on the yard tackles.

Fend her off, fend her off!

Lower away on the main.

- Wouldn't want to lose you. - Aye, sir.

There's a painter, bo. Pass her aft.

Outside everything, mind.

Lively, now. We got 10 minutes before he's up with us.

Lively, lads. We've got precious little time.

Mind what the Captain told you.

Pull, boys. That's it!

Pull on that larboard line there.

Line her up. Line her up!

Now.

Killick, there.

Douse your light.

Mr. Allen, make ready.

Hello! We caught a fish.

Take the helm, Bonden.

- Now, tell me that wasn't fun. - Yes.

Hard a'larboard.

Stand the men down, Mr. Pullings.

I'll take this watch.

Aye, sir.

Mr. Mowett, Mr. Allen, calmly, now.

You know his orders.

Well done, sir.

She's a right phantom, she is.

Way she come up again behind us like that.

Out of nowhere.

Right behind us.

Like that first time out of the fog

with our shot bouncing off her.

Captain's not called "Lucky Jack" for no reason.

Phantom or no, she's a privateer.

Lucky Jack will have her.

Need more than luck against a phantom.

Is she like a pirate?

No, they're not pirates, Lofty.

Oh, no.

If they were, we could hang them when we catch them.

Privateer gets a piece of paper from the Frenchies.

Says they can hunt down anything that bears our flag.

They go after rich merchantmen and the like.

Hey, but think on our share of the prize money.

She'll be loaded with gold

and ambergris and all the gems of Araby.

That's all very well, Nagle.

Got to get home to spend it,

but never met a dead man who bought me a drink.

I've never met a live one you've bought one for, neither.

Sitting up all night, catching your death of cold.

That's the last of the coffee, too.

Thank you, Killick.

Bonden?

That's enough easting. Set a course south-southwest.

Aye, sir.

South-southwest.

Sail!

Two points off starboard bow!

Told you.

Three cheers for Lucky Jack!

Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!

She's ours, boys!

Foul, foul!

You got away before me!

- Set royals and courses. - Sir.

Have the idlers placed along the rails.

Sir.

In all my years, I've never seen the like.

It has to be more than 100 sea miles.

And he brings us up on his tail.

That's seamanship, Mr. Pullings.

My God, that's seamanship.

I told you the plan would work, Will.

- We'll have them by nightfall. - I think we've got him, sir.

And the wind favours us this time.

Don't count your eggs

before they're in the pudding, Mr. Calamy.

Still, if we can close this gap and get up behind her,

she may well be ours.

Touch wood.

Scratch a stay.

Turn three times!

May the Lord and saints preserve us!

Turn!

Move along, men. Move along.

We'll have lost him before you rig it up.

Hold!

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