Isolation is much easier onboard an imaginary ship, one where I force my wife and cat into daily viewings of the Anthony Hopkins-led masterpiece
What was once my house is now a fine 18th century merchant vessel that the Royal Navy purchased for a botanical mission in 1787. As I conduct my daily inspection of the decks (poop, quarter, gun and forecastle) and assess the condition of the masts (For mast, Main and Mizzen), I am filled with pride that, during these testing times, I am well placed to command and chart a course to the southern Island of Tahiti and into the history books.
Of course, for this radical conversion of a Victorian townhouse into His Majesty’s Armed Vessel Bounty, I may have taken as inspiration the numerous film portrayals of its mission to collect breadfruit from Polynesia for transport to the West Indies (as it might grow well there and provide cheap food for slaves). I understand that in these modern times, this quest may seem far less noble than perhaps it once did. However, conditions on board my ship compare favourably to the squalor within the super-tankers of some multi-national online delivery companies. I digress.
There have been several notable celluloid recreations of HMAV Bounty. Originally, the story was titled In the Wake of the Bounty (1933), which was the screen debut of Errol Flynn in the role of Christian. This I found to be unwatchable, since I can’t find it on Netflix and it seems to have gone out of print on DVD. Next came the mighty Mutiny on the Bounty (1935), based on the novel by Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall, and starring Charles Laughton and Clark Gable as Bligh and Christian, respectively. Two further presentations were Mutiny on the Bounty (1962) with Trevor Howard and Marlon Brando, and then the masterwork that is The Bounty (1984), with Anthony Hopkins and Mel Gibson. It is this final interpretation that has now become daily viewing material for the crew and myself as we eat our stale ships biscuits and salted pork.
During these plague months, in my semi-isolation (with only the ship’s cat and wife to keep me sane) I have altered my routine considerably, as indeed, I am sure many of us have. A weird comfort to the lonely was ever the truism ‘you are not alone’, a phrase that helps for about 22 seconds before crushing solitude is reapplied like a medieval torture device. No, mere platitudes will not save me. It is only the certain knowledge that my ship (and limited crew) need me, that stops me running this damned vessel into the rocks. Additional reasons to remain sanguine lay in the knowledge that the galley can rely upon a well stocked hold, and by God, if our mission is a success, we will put those goods to proper use and make a name for ourselves!
I lead by example, and as an officer follow a strict dress code for meal times, send out the swabbing parties to keep hygiene at the forefront of the crew’s minds (as well as giving them something to do to relieve this interminable boredom) and enforce strict discipline. This way we can be sure that whilst sailing through waters that many men would not dare to navigate, we will reach our destination, and be all the better for it. We WILL round the horn. No sniggering at the back.
This strategy is not without its risks, no doubt. The enforced nightly entertainment of watching, then re-watching The Bounty has lead to ‘rumblings’ amongst the crew. Some may even describe the cat and my wife as ‘deeply demoralised’. Only the other day they complained about having to don heavy naval dress coats whilst eating and drinking from a table that I kept moving up and down with my legs to replicate the motion of the sea. Some red wine may have been spilt.
However, I take ultimate responsibility for their malaise. I must accept, as every captain must accept, the inevitable and theoretical responsibility for that. But the actual and immediate responsibility I place on them. They have met this crisis with lethargy, impudence and flagrant defiance, publicly uttered. Perhaps for this I am also to blame, as I counted on a strength of character that my wife and the cat do not possess.
I predict that we will overcome, by the grace of God and the implementation of maritime law. What could possibly go wrong?
For those also wishing to convert their home into an 18th century merchant vessel, it is imperative that they watch The Bounty, if for no other reason but to make them appreciate our modern luxuries. Tattoos are relatively painless now, we tend not to sleep in hammocks in stifling quarters surrounded by sweating men, and, this is crucial, we never have to travel three and a half thousand miles in a small boat, eating bits of raw seagull with Daniel Day-Lewis and John Sessions.