Lifeboat Page #5

I thought they were big, heavy iron things

with a hook to hold us onto the sea bottom.

When you threw that thing out, I thought it

was some sort of a toy parachute or something.

They really keep the boat from drifting?

Last time I was adrift, a sea anchor

held us up 48 hours in a storm.

- You've been torpedoed before?

- That's right, twice.

- How long before you were picked up?

- Last time, it was 43 days.

Forty-three...

That must have been awful!

Yeah. We did

get a bit sunburned.

Then, of course, we had a good sound boat,

plenty of food and water. Everything intact.

- Well, haven't we plenty too?

- A good deal of our food's been ruined.

Three out of the four water breakers

have been smashed.

A lot of water leaked out of

the fourth one before it was taped.

What worries me is the compass.

Knocked to pieces.

That's a bit awkward.

And, of course, there's Jerry.

Ah, good morning, Mrs. Porter.

What's good about it?

How soon do we get picked up?

Good morning, Connie. We were discussing

that. It seems there's no way of telling.

- Did you sleep well?

- Not a wink.

Not only that, I froze.

Only had my fur coat to keep me... warm.

Where's Miss Higley?

I'm sorry, folks.

I'm terribly sorry.

It was pitch black

when I relieved you, Kovac.

I couldn't see a thing.

For all I know, it might have happened

during your watch.

- Eight biscuits.

- Minus eight biscuits.

Oh, thanks. Kovac.

How's the sail coming along?

- Coming along.

- Light, sir?

Uh, no, thanks. I think I'll hoard

this heater till we get someplace.

Well, folks, I've been taking inventory,

and we're in the black.

A going concern. It's no use

lying around waiting to be picked up.

As we might have to wait as long as,

uh... as 43 days.

So we might as well get organized. The first

order of business is department heads.

- Uh, Sparks?

- Yes, Mr. Rittenhouse.

- Call me Ritt. We're all in the same boat.

- Yes, sir. Ritt.

Sparks, you are, uh,

in charge of navigation.

- Aye, aye, sir.

- Uh, George?

Call meJoe.

- s your nameJoe?

- Yes, sir.

Very well. Joe it is.

You are head of the commissary.

- Yes, sir.

- Connie, will you keep the ship's log, please?

Righto, Ritto, providing I control

the copyright and all publication rights.

Including the Scandinavian.

Yes. Miss MacKenzie.

You are in charge of sick bay.

Don't look now, but

I think we have a skipper.

- Who elected Mr. Rittenhouse?

- Mr. Rittenhouse.

- Ritt, to you.

- You think he's capable?

Sure. Till the sail goes up.

We never should've

let him stay on board.

He'll eat our food, drink our water,

and double-cross us, first chance he gets.

What are you afraid of?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes