Yankee Buccaneer Page #5

Synopsis: A United States Navy ship in the first half of the 19th century, under the command of Captain David Porter, is expecting to put ashore after a year on the seas; but the arrival of one of Porter's ex-students, the willful and independent Lieutenant David Farragut, brings a new mission: to disguise the ship and crew as a pirate ship and help the Navy locate the criminals who have been robbing America's merchant fleet. But as Farragut's disobedience threatens the safety of the crew, they stumble upon an international conspiracy.
 
IMDB:
6.1
Year:
1952
86 min
76 Views


northwest, Mr. Farragut?

West by

northwest, sir.

We're drifting into

the Gulf Stream current.

With luck and some wind for our sails,

it will carry us to the West lndies.

There, we'll take on provisions

and repair the damage.

That's if we don't run

into the pirate fleet first.

Without a rudder,

we'd be a sitting target.

Carry on, Lieutenant, and

pray for clear sailing.

Oh, Captain?

Yes?

l'd like to volunteer

for salvage-diving duty, sir.

l'm aware of the many things

on your conscience, sir,

and also that a rudderless

ship of short rations

takes longer to

reach its destination,

but l won't let the

sharks get any part of you.

l want my executive officer to

stand court-martialed on both feet.

Word from sickbay, sir.

Doctor confirms report.

lt's scurvy that

Harrison's down with.

Any fresh food or

potatoes left aboard?

No, sir.

Mr. Farragut?

Yes, sir?

The men need a tonic.

Break out a rum ration

for ship's complement.

Mr. Link will

supervise. Carry on.

Aye, aye, sir.

l'm sorry for showing me thirst,

Davey-lad, and causing you all this hurt.

Let me tell

the Captain...

Secure all hands

for rum ration, Mr. Link.

Then we'll have our say.

Aye, aye, sir.

Forsythe.

Forsythe, draw

ration for one.

Christie.

Christie, draw

ration for one.

Rum issue

completed, sir.

Thank you,

Mr. Redell.

Well, that does it, Davey-lad.

Now for old Link's ration.

l suggest you save some of that until

after we fix the rudder, Mr. Link.

The rudder? l ain't

fixing no rudder.

You heard the Captain say

those fish bite hard.

Topside at eight bells. We're

responsible for this mess,

and l couldn't be in

much more trouble.

Bring a lubber hose from the

forecastle, and not a word to anyone.

But you're not

listening, Davey.

Eight bells, Chief.

The blooming gold braid knew

how hard l worked for this drink,

they'd make me an admiral

for my drive and spirit.

All clear, Davey-lad.

Good.

Now, my idea is to replace

the shackle on the stay chains.

But it ain't enough.

She'll break away again.

lt's worth a last chance

to try to sail her in.

There's no guarantee

we'll drift to port

before the food runs out

and the scurvy gets worse.

Hand me that

lubber hose.

Now, two pulls on this rope

brings me up. Lower away.

Stand-by watch!

On the double!

Get below. l'll take

care of him.

You all right,

Davey-boy?

The shark

almost got me.

No chance to fix

those stay chains.

But you were told not to try to

fix the stay chains, Mr. Farragut.

You will remain to quarters

until further orders.

Aye, aye, sir.

Better fetch the doctor.

That won't be necessary,

sir. l'm quite all right.

Captain

Porter, sir. Look.

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