White Squall Page #5

LAWFORD (O.S.)

Arise, Arise, Arise...

Chuck wakes, disoriented. Terry bolts upright and hits

his head on the low ceiling. Ouch.

Tod, Rick and Charlie are up instantly. Lawford's voice

echoes through the ship.

LAWFORD (O.S.)

Exultation is the going/ Of an

inland soul to sea/ Past the houses/

Past the headlands/ Into deep

Eternity/ Bred as we, among the

mountains/ Can the sailor

understand/ the divine intoxication/

of the first league out from land?

(pause)

But I suppose we'll answer that

question soon enough gentlemen.

Soon enough.

TERRY:

What question?

Chuck tries to assimilate Lawford's words. Robin swings

his feet over the side of his bunk with a tortured look.

John rolls over and pulls his pillow over his head.

ROBIN:

(foggy)

What the hell is going on?

CHUCK:

Maybe it's an air raid.

In crisply pressed shorts and shirt, Bill Butler steps

through the aft bulkhead. He raises a bowswain's whistle

and blows. OOOWWWEEEEOOO!!!! Chuck and Robin grab their

ears. It's a nightmare. Terry jumps and hits his head

again.

BILL:

Roll out sailors! All hands on

deck! Sixty seconds. Sixty

seconds.

He blows the whistle again. This time it brings even John

to his feet, staring down at Bill in a blind rage. Bill

looks up and casually notices him.

BILL:

You gotta problem Goodall?

JOHN:

You blow that thing again I'll shove

it so far up your ass, you're gonna

need dental floss to get it out.

BILL:

Just get on deck.

Bill turns and disappears topside.

EXT. DECK - DAWN

The sun has barely cracked the horizon as the crew

staggers onto the deck, shirtless and shivering.

BILL:

Line up! Single file. Single file.

The crew lines up. John is the last one through the hatch

and he lets us know his boundaries are being pressed.

BILL:

Everybody swims.

The boys are aghast.

LAWFORD:

Don't think people, just go! Go,

Go, Go, Go, Go!!! Swim you win,

stay you pay!!

Rick is the first one through the gunnel door, followed by

Tod and Charlie. They howl and scream as they hit the

water. The rest follow like lemmings. But John stands

defiantly with his arms folded.

BILL:

Now what's the problem, Goodall?

Everybody swims.

The crew are piling back on deck. George stands in the

open galley door. The smell of fresh bacon is

intoxicating.

JOHN:

I don't.

LAWFORD:

You will if you wanna eat. Right

George?

George nods, wielding a butchers knife. The crew stand

shivering, waiting on John.

JOHN:

(to Bill)

You gonna swim for your breakfast?

Bill gives John a long look then strips to his shorts,

swings into the rigging and climbs up to the first yard

arm. He looks down at the water some twenty-five feet

below. It's a long way. Robin turns away.

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