The North Water

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'The world is hell,

and men are both the tormented souls

and the devils within it.'

Arthur Schopenhauer

Rum.

I'm leaving in the morning on the Volunteer.

I'll give you my note of hand.

Do I look like a fool?

Well, then, this good knife of mine against a tot of your rum.

Heads or tails?

It's a fine knife that.

It's not failed me yet.

Heads.

Aye, it's a fine knife.

I'll thank you for this.

Now, get the fuck out of my bar.

Toss again.

I don't want your boots.

You have my knife.

You can't back away now.

I don't want your bloody stinking boots.

I'll say it one more time, you can't back away now.

I'll do what the bloody hell I like.

Here!

I'll buy you a drink myself, if you shut the fuck up.

Well, I thank you for it.

I've been whoring all morning and the whistle's dry.

-I'll take that for you, sir. -Thank you.

-Careful, careful. -I have it.

-Come on, lads. Bring it down. -All right, so...

This is the ward room.

-That's it. Yep. -That's Mr. McKendrick there.

And here is you.

I'll put your trunk on your bed.

I'm Joseph Hannah.

If you need anything, just call for me.

Don't worry. Your trunk will be safe. The captain's waiting for you in there.

-Thank you. -You're welcome.

-Yeah? -Mr. Sumner.

Come in.

I hear you were injured out in India.

Yes.

Shot by a sepoy musket ball on the first day of the assault.

My shinbone bore the brunt.

But I'm totally recovered now, though. Not even a limp.

I'm glad to hear it.

Tell me, did you see Nicholson killed?

No.

But I did see his body afterwards on the ridge.

Extraordinary man, Nicholson.

A great hero.

You know, I heard he sliced a Pandy clean in half

with one swing of his sword, like cutting a cucumber.

He had a Pashtun bodyguard.

Big, enormous sod named Khan.

He slept outside his tent to protect him.

The rumor was the two of them were...

sweethearts.

Nothing but jealousy.

Thank you.

If it weren't for men like Nicholson, the Empire would have been lost long ago

and then where would we be?

I saw him hang a man once just for smiling at him.

The poor bugger wasn't even smiling.

Well, lines must be drawn, Mr. Sumner.

Surely you agree

that civilized standards must be maintained?

Sometimes we must meet fire with fire.

They killed women and children, raped them,

slashed their tiny little throats.

Doesn't a thing like that require righteous vengeance?

Oh, there was a good deal of that going on.

Yes, sir. Yes, indeed.

So, tell me.

Why did you quit the 61 st and leave India?

I know it wasn't your leg.

A surgeon isn't in need of two good legs.

Not the leg, no.

Well, then what?

Well, eight months ago, my uncle Donal died

and left me his dairy farm over in County Mayo.

It's worth enough to buy me a pretty little house in a respectable practice

somewhere quiet, but wealthy.

Scarborough. Hastings.

I do like a promenade, you see.

So why aren't you attending to the ailments of little old widows,

instead of sitting here with me?

A famous Irish landowner like yourself.

Legal complications.

Mysterious cousins crept out of the woodwork.

Counterclaimants, if you will.

It's always the way.

I'm told the case could take another year to be resolved.

Until then I have nothing to do with myself, nor any money to do it with.

I was passing through Liverpool on my way back to the lawyers in Dublin

when I ran into your Mr. Baxter at the bar of the Adelphi Hotel.

We got to talking

and when he learnt that I was an ex-army surgeon in need of gainful employment,

he put two and two together and made a four.

Fierce operator, that Baxter.

Well, I'm not expecting the whaling will make me rich,

but it will keep me occupied, at least,

while the cogs of justice turn.

Oh, we'll find use for you, one way or the other.

Though you potions don't really make a great deal of difference.

Oh, I mean no offense, Captain,

but... potions...

doctors tend to adhere to science,

not witchcraft or superstition.

You'll find the men on board this ship have very little use for science.

Either way, I should examine the medicine chest.

There may be one or two items I need to add...

replace, replenish.

There's a chest stowed in your cabin

and there's an apothecary on Clifford Street.

Get whatever you need from them and tell them to send the bill to Baxter.

Mr. Baxter won't like that much, I imagine.

Bugger Baxter.

You don't sound much like an Irishman.

Well, I've been here most of my life.

I'm more of an Englishman now.

Is that right?

Yes, Captain.

You know what people call us whalers?

They say we're...

refugees from civilization.

Well, that sounds very appealing to me.

Sure.

But you'd be wise to remember that at some point you have to return.

Welcome aboard, Mr. Sumner.

Thank you.

Well...

Thanks again, Captain Brownlee.

Spirit of Squills?

What was the last surgeon? A fucking druid?

But I will make sure you have a ready supply of laudanum for the pain.

That will help with your frame of mind, too, I'm assured of it.

-Hello. -Hi there.

Please.

Has Baxter seen this?

You think I'd trouble Baxter with this?

He'll be troubled when he sees this bloody bill!

I know Baxter. He's a right tight-fisted bastard.

Just... fill the order, please.

Well, I can't let you have all that laudanum.

Why not?

If I do, I won't get paid for it.

You can have the regular allowance.

Do you do all these yourself, then?

Oh, aye.

I'm... I'm the best taxidermist in town.

You can ask anyone.

What's the biggest beast you've ever stuffed?

I mean, the very biggest. I want the truth.

I've done a walrus.

Oh, aye.

I've done a polar bear, too.

-You've stuffed a bear? -I have.

Now then...

that is something I would like to see.

Aye. Did it for your Mr. Baxter.

What I did was I set him up

on his hindmost legs

with his vicious claws raking the frigid air.

Like this. Look.

Would you ever stuff a whale?

Whale can't be stuffed!

I mean, apart from the size, it'd putrefy.

Why don't we change the name on this?

Change this to absinthe or calomel.

We already... we already got calomel.

Oh, yes. Well, absinthe, then.

I tell you what,

we could put blue vitriol.

Surgeons use a good amount of that.

Blue vitriol it is.

Right.

You!

Over here.

Get me a plate of mussels from the fishmonger's on Bourne Street.

Bourne Street. You understand?

I don't wanna be shitting myself to Greenland.

You like that?

Buy me another drink.

Fuck off.

One more drink. That'll be the last you'll hear of it.

I'd sooner cut your fucking balls off than buy you another drink.

Could cut your nose off, too.

Feed it to the porkers out back.

I want you gone.

Fucking...!

You can stick that shillelagh up your fucking arse!

God!

Fucking hell!