The Hurricane

1

Doctor, the captain told me

we were in the South Seas now.

Right in the heart of them.

That's right, madame.

The South Sea islands.

The last hiding place

of beauty and adventure.

That's what all the travel folders say.

I thought you'd been here before,

and that you adored the islands.

Yes, I do in my own way.

What's that wretched-looking spot

we're passing?

It's one of the South Sea isles.

Nothing like that is mentioned

in the folders.

Well, it's a little in disrepute.

It was mentioned

in all the folders once.

That silly-looking sand waste?

Has it a name?

It's the island of Manukura.

That was once the most beautiful

of all the islands...

that raised their little green heads

above these waters.

The most beautiful and enchanting

bit of paradise in all the world.

I always throw it a kiss when I pass it.

Excuse me, madame.

What happened to it?

It made the mistake of being born

in the heart of the hurricane belt.

You've stolen a canoe.

Stealing is against the law.

You must pay the penalty

for breaking the law.

You are sentenced to 30 days punishment.

When you have finished 30 days, you will

know better than to break the law again.

I don't understand.

He says...

He's defending himself against the power

of the French government and very ably.

Does he deny the theft?

No. He offers in rebuttal

that there was moonlight.

An awful lot of it.

And his lady love says...

she saw a gold fish in the sea.

My dear doctor...

I am as sensitive to the whims of love

as the next man.

But as governor of these islands,

I cannot afford...

to sit 'round admiring

the quaint and the curious.

Thirty days, my good fellow.

It's not exactly my business,

de Laage...

but you've only been here a year.

Whereas I, indolent wretch...

have spent a pitifully long time

on these islands.

- I know these people.

- You're wasting your time pleading.

I'm not pleading.

I'm pleading for you...

not this scoundrel of a canoe thief.

You're a sensitive man.

You'll do something to yourself if you

govern these somewhat childish people...

according to your ideas

instead of theirs.

You'll destroy yourself.

That sounds very ominous. What is that?

Father Paul has sighted the Katopua.

- He's chattering in his belfry.

- Come along, Doctor.

You can complain about

my tyrannical soul to Madame de Laage.

Your wife will like it if you let

this miserable canoe-snatcher go.

As a homecoming gift!

Chief Mehevi, he's sentenced to

30 days hard labor on the coral reef.

My dear Doctor...

I am ready to give my wife and my

friends anything I own in the world...

except my sense of honor and duty.

A sense of honor in the South Seas

is about as useful and often as silly...

as a silk hat in a hurricane.

Marama!

- I think the ship never comes home.

- Me, too.

I think the wind never blows.

I feel like praying...

for the wind that overturns the world

to hurry the Katopua home.

I worry about everything

when you're away.

About the wind, the waves.

Sometimes I worry the fish eat you up.

Me? You worry about me?

- Why I'm the best sailor in the world!

- I know.

- I'm the best swimmer, too.

- I know.

And tonight when we come out of church,

I'm the best husband in the world.

- I know, I know.

- Shut up. You don't know anything yet.

Eugene.

- Oh, Germaine.

- Darling, it seemed forever!

All my happiness went with you

to France...

but it's returned now.

O Heavenly Father...

we thank Thee for the safe return

of our loved ones.

Amen.

Your health, madame.

We certainly missed

your civilizing influence.

Here's to your homecoming.

Your health, Doctor, and Father Paul's

and yours, Chief Mehevi.

All our people are happy

that you come back.

Thank you. Tell me, Father Paul...

how's my husband been

conducting himself in my absence?

Like a good governor.

- Has he fallen under the tropic's spell?

- No, madame!

He's been staunchly under the spell

of honor and duty.

I don't suppose there's any use

of my inquiring...

whether my uncle answered

my application to return to France?

No. He said nothing.

Farewell, old Cafe de Rostand

for another year.

I'm sorry.

Yes. And in Paris, our good doctor

would weep day and night...

for his little half-drowned homeland...

the island of Manukura.

Why, he's as deeply rooted in this place

as I am, or Chief Mehevi.

My roots are parched, Captain.

We'll drink this one to Mehevi.

I brought him back the finest

bridegroom in the islands.

Yes, I know. I see him jump from mast.

Who's that?

Terangi.

I'm delighted to hear the news. I didn't

know he was marrying your daughter.

You've been too busy

with your report cards to France.

The romance is known

to every child in the islands.

I'm delighted.

Terangi is utterly charming.

He was delightful on the trip.

He'd hang from the top of the mast like

a bird with wings stretched for home.

I hope you'll be able to leave him

behind for one voyage, Captain.

He's planning on spending

his honeymoon in a canoe.

It won't be a long honeymoon.

I'd as soon sail without sails

as without my first mate.

The more I see these natives, the more

I think they're more bird than man.

Terangi can smell a wind

before it's begun to blow.

He knows every rock on the sea bottom...

and he runs a ship

as if it were a pair of shoes.

I was saying that very thing

to de Laage.

I wasted ten good minutes pointing out

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