Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Goodbye, sir.
Haul both your yard tackles.
- Sir? - Mr Pullings.
- Is that all of it? - Aye, sir.
If wind and tide had been against us, I should have said yes.
You've Come To The Wrong Shop For Anarchy, Brother
This is the 5th time he’s done this to me. There will not be a 6th
Padeen, that one's got away.
Run out, boys.
Sir, he's going to make it. He can do it.
No. Well, yes, but I couldn't catch one.
98.8 degrees, sir… and holding.
We was coming back for fresh lines no more than a week ago.
Speak plainly, Stephen.
am I speaking with my old friend or to the ship's captain?
She's opened up a seam. We need to get some oakum and pound it in.
We must survive this day. Let's get about it. Mr Allen, gentlemen.
Well then, he would seem to be the exception to the rule that authority corrupts.
very good, sir
Larboard battery, unship your rear wheels.
She's making a run for the Horn, sir.
Lower away on the main.
That's where the Acheron will be. Sure as there's carts to horses.
That's enough easting. Set a course sou'-sou'west.
Captain Hook, we will never join your crew.
DOGE DIRECTIVE
Reckon the captain will follow him round the Horn, every stitch of canvas flying?
I've tried to get to know the men, sir, and be friendly,
Fire!
Do you want to see a guillotine in picadilly?
You hear that? He said something.
Long we tossed on the rolling main Now we're safe ashore, Jack
I'd rather have them three sheets to the wind than face a mutiny.
Lower away.
- Killick. Killick there. - I'm already here, ain't I?
Nine dead, 27 wounded.
Where away?
That is, if, of course, you have the constitution for this kind of thing.
- Now, tell me that wasn't fun. - Yes, sir.
Subject to the requirements of the service.
And whose watch was it when we lost our wind?
He was getting married, and his wife's second cousin works in the yards,
Just for you Have one for me ☺️
Mr Blakeney, the nine-pounder.
That’s leadership Mr. Pullings My God that’s leadership
She'll be loaded with gold and ambergris and all the gems of Araby.
- My division to join Mr Pullings. - Clew up topsails.
about how someone offered him a boat cloak on a cold night.
Mr Allen, come up on the wind. Lay me alongside at pistol-shot.
She's ours, boys.
He who would pun would pick a pocket.
Steady.
I'll need two men into the starboard forechannels. Roberts, Chadwick.
Six hours?
Well done.
What, no women? It ain't natural.
Let me through.
- Straight at 'em, Mr Mowett. - Straight at 'em, sir.
He's over there, sir.
Briskly now. Secure this line.
- Is that the arm you got or don't got? - Less of that cheek, Davies.
- Hold steady, boys. - Don't worry, lads, we'll serve 'em out yet.
- He's been at it again. - Who's that, then?
She could be halfway to Cape Horn by the time we're repaired.
Man overboard.
Fire!
As a friend, I would say that I have never once doubted your abilities as a captain.
- Thank you. - Sir.
Thank you very much, sir.
If she was a frigate, then I am a Dutchman.
And to you, sir.
All hands, get these provisions stowed.
- Care for a cigar? - Thank you, no.
Leave the swords. Get the captain's silver below.
Right, lads.