Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Should you really be getting up, sir?
I want good work now.
Yes, it's all right.
Combined Ops Any activity whatsoever
- Am I not correct? - Would you call me an aged man of war?
- Is it an insect? - Yes.
- Wouldn't want to lose you. - Aye, sir.
Gently there.
It's a rare Phasmid
More sand on the floor.
You did the right thing, Mr Hollom. Go to your stations.
Tosh. Name a shrub after me. Something prickly and hard to eradicate.
looking for the resurrection of the body when the sea shall give up her dead,
In Boston, sir. During the peace. But she's Yankee-built, sir.
says they can hunt down anything with our flag.
It's just to get my bearings, that's all.
- It's a rare phasmid, sir. - A phasmid?
Man the starboard battery.
Neither. There's no difference between them. They're the same species of curculio.
For we've received orders to sail for old England
Swab.
- Doctor, have you seen the bird? - What sort of bird?
Sharpshooters to the tops, Mr Howard.
Really. Weevils.
Well done Rich
Strike the bell.
Sir?
which it will be ready when it is ready
She's taken the bait. Let's come about.
Well, Stephen, the bird's flightless?
When she responds quickly
Here we go again. Scrape-scrape, screech-screech.
Last gun fired, sir.
Told you it would work, Will. We'll have them by nightfall.
Is them his brains?
Dec 22nd TO THE SUN!
Privateer gets a piece of paper from the Frenchies
And though we be on the far side of the world, this ship is our home.
John Antonio, quartermaster's mate.
Relieving-tackles on the tiller. You men, collect these wounded.
That's airmanship, Mr Pullings My God, that's airmanship
And by way of anticipation of this event,
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Run out the boarding planks.
Lads, that's not good enough. We need to fire two broadsides to her one.
15-inches-long neck.
What do you mean?
- Due south, please, Mr Bonden. - Due south, sir.
But we must bring him right up beside us before we spring this trap.
That young man was a casualty of war.
hurry past wonders, bent on destruction. I say nothing of the corruption of power...
I can harness the wind, but I ain't its goddamn creator.
I'll manage. You'll see.
Sir.
Gangway for the captain, lads.
For God's sake, don't drop anything.
And I've never met a live one that you bought one for, neither.
By all that's holy, I think that's unknown to science.
Ugly devils, aren't they?
Mr Blakeney.
- Have some water. - Thank you.
Seize your weapons and wait for the word.
- I'll need more men, sir. - Yes. Go.
Cut him down.
Barret Bonden, put your helm hard to starboard.
Still hasn't said a word, sir.
Sir, it's Mr Hollom.
Down!
Gun crews, you must run out and tie down in double-quick time.
- That'll be all. - Yes, sir.
Mr Mowett, Mr Allen, calmly now. You know his orders.
Note for the log, Mr Watt. "Engaged enemy frigate at six bells."
Aye, sir.
Sergeant. Take your section into the main top.
- My division, follow me. - For England, for home, and for the prize.
Thank you, sir.
Very good, Sir.
prepare the winds!!!!
Mr Allen, make ready.
Name a shrub after me. Something prickly and hard to eradicate.
Royal Marines posted every 20 yards, sir.
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I want more. Have all the spare hands placed on the windward rail.
- Mr Howard, stand your men down. - Royal Marines, trail arms.
- Handsomely on the yards tackle. - Topmen aloft.
I'll be damned.
What a fascinating modern age we live in!
That's where I saw my flightless cormorant.
Mr Mowett, Mr Pullings, starboard battery.
Fend her off.
losing her
But therein lies the problem. You're not accustomed to defeat.
- Nor do you need to be a tyrant. - No, sir.