The Convert

- Man 1: Get off the steps! - (horse neighing)

Man 1: (yelling) The topgallant's broken!

- (horse neighing) - Whoa, boy. Whoa. Whoa.

Oh.

Man 2: Easy now. Easy now. Put him down here.

Stay below, Munro!

Kedgley: Gather round.

I must confess, uh...

I did not know Mr. Ridley well,

but, uh, the, uh...

...the death of any man is a sorrow to be mourned.

Mr. Munro...

perhaps you might like to offer a benediction.

Only those who have been at sea...

truly grasp the enormity of this world.

The immense nature of its vast distances.

It is a frightening thing to be made so...

closely aware of one's own insignificance.

Most men would flinch from this knowledge.

And yet, we are so compelled,

we hurl ourselves into the vacant spaces of this

- profound Earth... - (ominous music playing)

...knowing, even as we do, that...

one day...

at some unforeseen hour...

a great price may be demanded of us.

Commend now his everlasting soul

in the name of Jesus Christ, our savior.

Amen.

All: Amen.

Loose the main sail.

- Stand by to bear away. - Stand by to bear away!

- (knocking on door) - Come in.

A worthy eulogy for a sailor lost far from home, Mr. Munro.

Thank you.

Your words and actions speak of a man

who has seen something of the world.

I'm from a family of shipbuilders.

And now you're a minister.

A lay minister. (sighs softly) We lead by example.

Adam Smith.

Munro: Yes.

A man of God who reads of a mercantile world.

Well, you've come to the right place, Reverend.

There's money to be made in these outcast corners.

Your new parishioners have staked their lives on it.

That boy's royalty, believe it or not.

Son of one of the paramount chiefs.

His father bade me to teach him seacraft.

Uenuku.

Mr. Farrell, give the lad the wheel.

Uenuku, take us three points to starboard.

Ease her as she pitches.

Very good.

You should be happy, Farrell,

you need never rise before noon again.

Kedgley: All right, that's enough.

- Man: Land ho! - Kedgley: Aye.

Your new home, Mr. Munro.

Never was perdition so pleasing to the eye.

Are there Māoris in this area?

They're everywhere.

Even when you can't see them, they're there.

Kedgley: Where's the nearest safe anchorage?

Uenuku? That bay?

No. That one.

Waikura.

All right, lads, we'll go ashore,

find some timber, replace the topgallant.

- Go, lads! - (all grunt)

- Kedgley: Heave! - (all grunt)

Well, would you look at that!

That's it, boy.

That's it, boy. Keep going.

Good boy.

You are a lot more entertaining than my usual cargo, Munro.

- (all laugh) - There's not half

as many surprises in a sack of flour.

- (all laugh) - Yes, quite.

Kedgley: Splendid.

Ya!

All right, lads, the show's over.

- Come on. One, two, three! - (all grunt)

Ya!

Yes!

Uenuku: Munro, what is that?

It's called a sketch. And sometimes a portrait.

What is this?

He rei-puta.

A whale tooth.

It's the voice of my father's god.

I'm named for this god.

- Uenuku-kai-tangata. - Ah.

Admirable.

And... and this?

Toku whakapapa.

It's my story.

The story of my life...

so far.

All right, lads. Keep your wits about you.

We're here to get timber, not cause trouble.

- (leaves rustling) - (birds warbling)

It's all right.

Where the hell has he got to?

All right, lads, with me. Come on.

It's all right. That's enough.

Kedgley: Everything alright, Mr. Munro?

I think so.

I asked him to forgive your trespass.

You meant no disrespect.

Thank you.

You can't trade with people you can't talk to.

And that we need wood for repairs.

He wants the horse as payment for the trees.

Boyd, give him the axe.

Go on, lad.

There. All friends again.

We should be ready to sail by tomorrow morning.

I'm thinking I would like to camp here until then.

Oh, no, no.

Captain, it's been a long journey.

I need to feel some earth beneath my feet.

If I'm to live in this country, I must acquaint myself with it.

I was charged to deliver you to Epworth.

And you shall.

But firstly, please, permit me this furlough.

All right.

I'll leave Uenuku with you.

- Good. - Where is he?

- Harris, where's the boy? - Sir?

The lad. Where is he?

Uenuku! (echoes)

Uenuku! (echoes)

- (sighs) - (music fades)

(Woman yelling, screaming in distance)

- (gunshots) - (indistinct clamor)

- Fetch the muskets. - I'm not going into that.

If we don't get him to Epworth, we don't get paid.

- (whinnies) - Whoa! Whoa!

Hey!

Here before you is the chief of my tribe,

Ngati Ruapu.

My father, Te Akatarewa.

What do you want here?

I ask that you spare

the lives of these people.

Akatarewa: These are my people from these lands, not yours.

They are nothing to you.

I ask that you... you show them mercy.

You are English.

Your king is George.

King William now.

George is dead?

Yes.

- (breathes deeply) - (Akatarewa speaking Māori)

I sat at his table.