Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

My God. You believe it too.
- All set, Higgins? - Yes, sir.
Good. Right, from now on no "sirs", no salutes, no whistles, no bells.
Extra Grog For All Of You.
- What would you have me do? - Tip the ship's grog over the side.
Joe Plaice.
Never a tune you could dance to, not if you were drunk as Davy's sow.
Nine.
Touch wood. Scratch a stay.
You wait and see.
Yes, that's the whole point.
As far as is necessary, Mr Pullings.
That's Customer-Centricity, Mr. Pullings By god, that's Customer-Centricity
Over here.
Clearly something nautical and fascinating just happened. I am at a loss.
Close reef topsails.
Hes talking to you Luken
They're exhausted. These men are exhausted.
Sir, should we not take on fresh provisions?
Twelve.
Sou'west by west, sir.
- See you afterwards. - And you.
- Want your children to sing The Marseillaise? - No.
Naval discipline doesn't operate out here, Mr Blakeney. I must find that cormorant.
FNO 23/01 prepping for another sea week...
and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.
I have no idea what it is you're talking about, but he did seem to come off rather well.
No. I'll do it.
Now that is a question, isn't it?
Help.
Stand clear.
Huzzah for Lucky Jack.
Close the lid. There's enough water in the grog.
How did it get there?
We're for the Horn, boys.
If everything is under control, I'll just be outside.
We'll intercept the Acheron and escort them into Valparaíso.
Dec 22nd
Sitting up all night, catching your death of cold. That's the last of the coffee, too.
Thank you for that, Davies.
There. Hull-down, broad off the larboard bow.
The Acheron is a tough nut to crack. More than twice our guns and numbers.
- Tom? - Our preparations are completed, sir.
- Is she like a pirate? - No, they're not pirates, Lofty.
Move. Move along.
That's a frigate, all right.
A master tactician and a man of singular vision.
They're a type of iguana, I should think. Therefore, they're vegetarian.
Padeen, put the net down and use your hands. They won't bite.
Can you really claim there's nothing personal in this call to duty?
Let's have hands to stow these tortoises.
- Do you make noon, Mr Hollom? - Yes, sir.
She'll patch up nicely.
Tell him about it, Mr Blakeney.
Using wind for ships what a fascinating modern age we live in
No lounging, boy.
All hands, make sail.
We stand tall on the quarterdeck. All of us.
Idlers and waisters below.
- Has their captain been sighted? - Not yet, sir.
I could walk briskly, pausing only for important measurements.
bob
As I understand it, this is a long, thin island.
Oh, no. If they were, we could hang them when we catch 'em.
Three cheers for Lucky Jack.
Perhaps we should have turned back weeks ago.
- Reach for it, men. - We're home inside that fog.
What's all this about?
After we board, Mr Calamy should take a party and free them.
On your right upper arm, to tell friend from foe.
Mr Hollom.
Indeed it was. I'm sorry you had to leave the majority of your collection behind.
It's an insect that disguises itself as a stick in order to confuse its predators.
Quickly. She'll be on top of us.