In the Heart of the Sea

How does one come to know the unknowable?

"What faculties must a man possess?

"Since it was discovered that whale oil

"could light our cities in ways never achieved before,

"it created global demand.

"It has pushed man to venture further and further

"into the deep blue unknown.

"We know not its depths,

"nor the host of creatures that live there.

"Monsters.

"Are they real?

"Or do the stories exist only to make us respect the sea's dark secrets?

"The question both vexes and excites me

"and is the reason I've written you a second time

"to request a meeting.

"A conversation with you, sir, I believe will serve me well

"for the novel I intend to write,

"currently entitled Moby Dick.

"I hope you will reconsider my offer.

"The unknown.

"That is where my imagination yearns to venture.

"And so the question plagues me still.

"How does a man come to know the unknowable?

"Sincerely, Herman Melville."

We're closed.

No boarders after 8:00.

You came.

Someone here for you, my love.

Tom Nickerson?

Herman Melville.

We received your letter.

You're either a desperate man

or a fool to come all the way to Nantucket.

Well, my offer still stands.

Three months' lodgings for a single night's talk.

All I have in the world.

But I prefer to think of it as an investment.

I want you to tell me what happened to the Essex.

What do you think happened?

There are rumblings. Rumors that the Essex was...

What do you want?

What story do you expect to hear?

That of the whale.

The Essex ran aground. There was a full inquiry.

I believe the inquiry was less than truthful.

Get out.

You are the last survivor of the Essex, sir.

If you won't talk, who will?

Did you not hear me? Leave. Now.

- No. You mustn't go. Please. - He is in no mind to talk.

And I haven't come all this way to be humiliated and waste my time.

Please, Mr. Melville.

He won't talk about the Essex to me.

To anyone. Never has. Never.

There's an agony about him.

His soul is in torment,

and in need of confession.

Please, just let me talk to him.

Please.

Love.

I believe it would do you good to talk to the man.

No.

You listen well.

Who holds this place together while you drink yourself to death?

You will talk with this man

as much as is necessary to keep the money.

You know our circumstances, Thomas.

Only as much as is necessary.

I'll get whiskey.

I neglected to mention it in my letter,

but I was a whaler once.

One trip, I mean.

Green hand.

So, you've seen it all.

My wife read your books.

She enjoyed them.

I'm happy to hear it.

I've had good sales.

And I think this story could surpass the success

of even my first novel, which did quite well.

Another of your seafaring yarns?

Have you read Hawthorne, Mr. Melville?

Now there's a writer.

Great writer.

He is.

But he is not here. And I am.

For my own particular reasons.

I will tell you of the Essex.

I believe you will be disappointed.

But every word I say will be true.

Story of the Essex is the story of two men.

Captain George Pollard and his first mate,

Owen Chase.

Owen. You don't wanna be late.

I'll be there.

Besides, can't have our daughter sleeping under a leaky roof, can we?

What makes you so sure it's a girl?

Well, it has to be.

So she can remind me

why I still love you when you're being stubborn.

Well, if it's to be a daughter, she'll be a version of you, not me.

Blond locks and determined to conquer the world.

I suppose after today,

you'll be trading in that tunic for a uniform.

That's right.

Finally out of this patch of dirt,

into a captain's house like you deserve.

I don't need one of those houses in town with stuffy neighbors.

There's plenty of room here for the three of us.

You know, sometimes your kind heart and good nature

is just unbearable.

Go get your captaincy.

- What's your bid? - I'll have $1.90.

I've got 1,000 gallons at $2!

I'll take 40 shares!

Seller! Seller! Over here!

Criterion's back with a fine haul.

1,600 barrels.

A new record.

£50 sterling for head matter on the London market.

Congratulations.

- Good morning, Mr. Chase. - Mr. Mason.

Come in, please.

My partner, Benjamin Fuller.

Good morning, sir.

Do sit down.

Mr. Chase.

I do hope you realize how satisfied we are

with the work you've done for us over the years.

Thank you, sir.

Now, one of our ships, the Essex,

has just been refitted at great expense

and is to go to sea.

Now, having made such an investment in her,

we want to be sure she's in the best possible hands.

So, it gives us great pleasure to offer you a position aboard her.

As first mate.

As first mate?

Mmm-hmm.

Mr. Mason, you promised me command of a ship after my last voyage

when I brought you back 1,500 barrels.

Do you remember? You gave me your word.

That promise must now be deferred.

Like everyone else, we've had a lean time recently.

No, never on my watch.

Nantucket now dominates the world market.

That must not change.

This is no time for experimentation.

The Essex will be captained by George Pollard,

scion of a great whaling family.

His father also happens to be our patron.

Blood, Mr. Chase.

You can have all the voyages under your belt you want,

but blood will always win out.

Yes, well, blood is not gonna fill a ship with oil, Mr. Mason.

To successfully command, a captain needs respect.

Now, what if the men don't respect him?

You will make sure that they do.

Ah, good day, gentlemen.

I understand your disappointment,

so, a one-fifteenth lay.

That's more than I've ever paid any first officer.

And if you bring back 2,000 barrels of oil,

I give you my word,

next time, you will have your captaincy.

You've given me your word before, Mr. Mason.

No, this time, I'll take it in writing.

Captain Pollard.

We've just had a most agreeable conversation with Mr. Chase.

He'll be honored to serve under you.

I'm glad to hear it.

Now I'm to babysit a greenhorn.

Some chinless Nantucketer

born with a damn silver spoon in his mouth.

You know, I should've thrown the offer back in their faces.

Why? You now have the offer of command in writing.

Yes, well, a liar's word is worthless,

even on paper.

You know, I'd love you just as much if you were a merchant captain.

And you wouldn't be gone for two years.

I won't be gone two years.

A Bedford whaler came back last week who was gone three.

She lost two men and still with her hull half empty.

Yeah, well, they were from Bedford,

and they didn't have me on board.

Son of a bitch!

I will captain my own ship!

A whaling ship.

Up to them, all we'd ever have is this patch of dirt,

and that's not gonna happen, Peggy.

Those are your father's words, not yours.

What's wrong with his words?

He wanted things for his family, for himself.

He was a dreamer, Owen.

Yes, he was.

Dreamed of the sea and never got to sail it

because of men like them.

At least he got to see his children born.

It's all I know.

I'm sorry.