Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

What the hell do you think you're doing?
Its consequences would be two-fold.
Lads!
Southwest by south. Aye, aye, sir.
Aye.
I understand you dismissed the swabbing party.
There will be no killing.
- Hurry along and take those sails in! - Get further aloft!
Right men! Food up! Come on.
Wasn't this Christian a friend of yours?
Surely, Mr. Bligh. It was unwise to replace a professional sailor
That's what I ask myself. Will you make the best of it?
Don't look at him. There'll be trouble.
You're not coming?
and circumnavigate the globe.
Come on. Keep them coming. Good lads.
I only say the Bounty's too small.
- Take the wheel, man. - Steering to port side.
What's the name of the cook? Lamb? Hey, Lamb!
The penalty for which is death by hanging.
Wait!
And now you may dismiss, sir!
And from there, my friends, God willing,
And as civilised men we shall die. Have no fear.
We will go about and run downwind for Africa and the Indian Ocean.
Sorry, sir.
Come in, whoever you are.
An activity they participated in wholeheartedly?
He can't, sir. Bit of trouble with the locals out there.
I don't know. It was the place itself.
Stay where you are. Or I'll blow your head off.
It doesn't sound quite right to me.
William, a toast. To circumnavigation.
Don't argue with me. Close reef.
Because you were at a loss, my friend.
What fault?
- Aye, aye, sir. - Thank you. Stand down.
The Royal Navy is not a humorous institution, sir.
Which I reserved for our dinner next day.
Alright. You will report to the ship immediately. Do you understand me?
Yes, sir. If it please, my Lords, I will first read a list of the mutineers
I beg you, use that poor flesh to save the others.
that he hasn't had the pleasure of your company at supper for some weeks.
Wake up.
Keep em' coming. Move it along. Don't drop them.
A savage King.
So he will be lashed and we will go around the Horn.
I think His Majesty likes breadfruit. Isn't that true, Mr. Nelson?
Have the carpenter lash those things down, now!
Do it, Christian. Kill him!
Let's hear it for the Captain, lads! Hip-hip!
What about the rest of us?
Gag them both.
Have a long ride, Tim. I hope they bloody eat yer, Fryer.
to call them back again and this time do it properly.
he whose body we now confine to them.
who look to you for their example, do they not, sir?
The South Atlantic? The North Atlantic?
God damn your blood to hell with mine, sir!
- Mr. Bligh! - Get in the boat! Where's the captain? Where's Mr. Bligh?
Stand down!
Oh, the men won't have it. Are they in charge of the Bounty?
Fletcher!
What I have to say to you is the result of considerable reflection.
So you were more or less immortal too.
My dearest Betsy,
- Mr. Cole? - Sir.
- Are you in this, Norton? - No, sir, I'm not.
lose their heads over native women in these waters.
Fletcher, I want you to sail with me again.