mr. hollar! mr. hollar, i want lifelines fore and aft! mowett: no lounging, boy! lifelines fore and aft! jack: cape horn, doctor! hollar: secure the spare topmast there between the bolts! hollar: work together! ( grunts, groans ) davies: close the bloody lid. there's enough water in the grog as it is. yes, thank you for that, davies. do you reckon the captain'll keep following him around the horn, every stitch of canvas flying? aye. i reckon he'd follow him to the gates of hell if he had to. it's a devil ship, i tell you, and it's leading us right into a trap. she's making a run for the horn, sir! i'll not vouch for this mast, sir. not around the horn. thank you, mr. lamb-- your comments will be noted in the log. sail trimmers to their stations! get the sails off her, lads! she's over-pressed! to the braces! allen: give them a pull and belay! cast off your fore topsail sheets! mowett: mr. allen, don't let ... pass it! can't reach! allen: ease the main topmast aysail! hollar: haul away... we're closing on her, tom. i'll not give up now. come up on the wind, barret.