All language subtitles for The Terror 1x01 - Go for Broke

In 1845, two Royal Navy
ships left England

in an attempt to finally discover a
navigable passage through the Arctic.

They were the most technologically
advanced ships of their day.

They were last seen by European
whalers in Baffin Bay

awaiting good conditions
to enter the Arctic labyrinth.

Both ships then vanished.

They saw many men on foot, all starving.

He met them?

"We saw a captain there.
The one called Aglooka."

Ask him...

...if one of these men

is the one... he's calling... Aglooka.

"He spoke in our tongue. He was dying."

"He pointed south. Says they
were going overland. Home."

"But they could barely walk."

"And with Tuunbaq behind them."

Tuunbaq?

"Behind them, coming. Always coming."

Someone was pursuing them? An Eskimo?

"From the shamans."

"The thing that eats
on two legs and four."

"The thing made of muscles...
and spells."

I don't understand. Is
he describing a man?

Sorry, Sir James. I don't know
what the hell he's describing.

What did Francis say?

Aglooka?

"Your friend took my hands.

He said, "Tell those who
come after us not to stay."

"The ships are gone.
There's no way through.

No passage".

"Tell them we are gone."

"Dead... and gone."

SEPTEMBER, 1846

FOUR YEARS EARLIER

Billy, take this one up with
you and don't let him down

till he can do his becket bends
with both his eyes closed.

Yes, sir.

Captain, sir.

Daily observations are starting to
make for bizarre reading, sir.

Well, magnetic north
wanders miles every day.

We're within its circle now.

It'll be tall headlines for the men.

Terror is signaling, Sir John.

Captain Crozier requests an ice report.

Shall I send Mr. Reid back?

No. Tell Francis, James and I
will be joining him for dinner.

Mr. Terry! Open the flag box!

Word has it, they've not yet
run out of beef tongue on Terror.

Of all the hardships of
the Discovery Service,

this may be the toughest.

It's three courses tonight and a dessert.

It'll be over before
you know it, Captain.

Not if Fitzjames is with us.

We'll have to hear his whole saga

of policing that massive
guano deposit off Namibia.

Or the time he got shot by the Chinese.

I'm inclined to put the food in my ears.

I haven't settled the matter
of spirits for tonight, sir.

Sir John abstains, of course,

and it's Allsopp's for the rest.

But is there anything
special you require, sir?

More open water, clear to the Pacific.

And then we can go home.

We're close, sir.

Careful how you use that word, "close".

This is the Discovery Service.

"Close" is nothing. It's
worse than nothing.

It's worse than anything in the world.

Welcome aboard, Sir John.

Captain Fitzjames.

If we're that near the pole,

we'll see King William
Land any day, then.

Look who's an expert.

Mr. Farr showed me on a chart.

Past King William Land we
get to the American coast

and it's all mapped out again from there.

Hello, boy.

That thing whined all night.
Must be sick or got a scent.

With the right wind, he can
smell bears at a mile.

The brigades already ashore

were catching every kind of fire,

so I was bringing out the Congreves.

- Rockets.
- Yes.

Ironic, considering it was
the Chinese themselves

who had pioneered the things.

We shot the marksmen
down off the city walls

and we started up.

As I climbed the ladder,
I was thinking of...

Caesar crossing the Rubicon.

We reached the top and I
saw the city of Chingkiang

laid out before us, wavering
in the morning heat.

And the soldiers in the alleys below

started using their matchlocks on us,

those muskets for which you
carry a lit taper at all times.

But in such dry conditions,

when we'd shoot one of them,

they would fall down
on top of these tapers

and they would catch
fire like tinder piles.

So, soon the whole city
was dotted with these

lone columns of personal smoke

and the whole view smelled of roast duck.

And then we rushed down into the streets

to assist the 49th, which we
could hear was under attack.

We came upon a pack of Chinese

behind a street barricade.

And I'd... I'd just loaded
a rocket and aimed...

when I was pierced. Single musket ball.

Size of a cherry. Passed
clean through my arm

and kept on in, making a third
wound here, entering my chest.

Like the shot that killed
Lord Nelson at Trafalgar.

And, had it not used up most
of its energy on my arm,

yes, I might have ended same as he.

Tell us about Birdshit Island,
why don't you, James?

That's a capital story.

Mr. Reid and I chatted
about the ice today.

He tells me we've started
sailing past slabs

he thinks are not part
of the summer break-up.

- Old ice?
- He's not concerned.

He thinks we're close to an intersection

with some bigger channel
coming down from the north,

bringing bergy bits with it.

But it means our little summer strait

is likely coming to an end.

It has yet to be named, and I thought...

Sir James Ross could be honored thusly.

Hear, hear.

Would that he were here with us now.

But for being a newlywed.

You approve, Francis?

He'll be very pleased.

What rank is that dog?
You ever wonder that?

He's on decks most nights,

so I guess you could
call that watch duty.

I don't know. That'd make him a...
AB. Or a Marine.

But he can walk the quarterdeck,

so that makes him a Petty
Officer at least. Right?

And some nights he's back
there in officers' country.

Petty Officers can't sleep aft,

so would that be considered
a Wardroom Officer?

What would that be?

A Mate? A Lieutenant?

Are we still talking about this dog?

It's of consequence, though, isn't it?

Puttin' a dog above a man. Who
serves who in that arrangement?

It's a ship's dog. We put up with it.

Alright?

Young?

David?

David? David!

Gangway!

- Get a doctor now!
- Come on!

- Roll him over!
- Watch it!

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I don't want to be the first
one to say the word, Sir John,

but we're all thinking it.

None of the three who died at Beechey

showed any sign of it.

And, even if it's the case now,

we will be in the Pacific

before it has a chance to don
its undertaker's weepers.

Your confidence is reassuring, of course.

You're not confident
with all our progress?

I don't know why. We've all but
found the passage in a year.

We're not rowing drakkars after all.

In this place, technology still
bends the knee to luck, James.

Sir. We've given the
boy a Dover's powder.

Settled his spasms. He's resting now.
As he can.

But he has a dark blood in his stool.

Digested blood. He's
bleeding above his colon.

- That's a vivid description.
- Is it scurvy?

Though I see nothing to mark it
as such, I can't rule it out.

But if I were to wager
a guess at this point,

I'd say the patient's consumptive.

Doesn't always attack the lungs.

Dr. Stanley should examine him.

Perhaps he can discern something more.

- I'll send a gig for him.
- No, no. There's no need.

- We'll take him with us.
- Young?

- In his condition?
- Yes.

Wrap him up well and
have our boat readied.

I... I would hesitate to move him, sir.

I don't frankly know how much
spirit the boy has left in him.

Bit of cool air will freshen him.

He'll be tucked up just the
same in half an hour's time.

Steady now.

Ease away.

Oh, Francis.

Tell your cook "yes" to the cow's head,

"no" to the capers he cooked it with.

For future visits.

Good night, Francis.

Try to shake the Brown study.

All is well.

All clear. Heave away.

There is nothing worse than
a man who has lost his joy.

He's become insufferable.

And he's a lushington to boot.

We should be better
friends to him, James.

I can't work out why he's even here.

He despises glory.

Even the glory of a good pudding.

And he looks down on we of the wardroom.

I tell you, one glance from him...

I have to remind myself I'm not a fraud.

I'll not have you speak of
him uncharitably, James.

He is my second.

Now, if something were to happen to me,

you would be his second. You
should cherish that man.

Sometimes I think you love your men

more than even God loves them, Sir John.

For all your sakes, let's
hope you're wrong.

Ready, all!

Ready to let go the bowlines!

Man overboard starboard side!

All hands on deck!

All eyes on the man in the water!

Who's marking him?

There!

Stand back!

Drop the line!

Give me room! Give me room!

- Collins, no!
- Let me try!

That seaman wouldn't
want you to risk more!

Billy Orren, that's who it is!

He's gone!

What I fail to understand is
why you chose not to speak up

when you began feeling this take root.

Wide.

I've been getting headaches all me life.

Didn't think nothing of it.

And we've been drinking that
squeezed lemon every night.

Crew's under strictest orders
to come forward if unwell.

I'd think burying three
of your mates on Beechey

was sufficient motivation.

The lemon juice is not a cure-all.

I didn't want to disappoint Sir John.

Well, he can praise your
loyalty as he buries you.

We can't spin the
propeller nor retract it.

Mr. Reid is certain we must have
caught a growler at the surface.

- So, is it blocked?
- Yes.

Yes. Mr. Gregory thinks there must be ice

wedged up in the prop well.

But we won't know till first light.

He all but assured me

if we can clear out a
jam, we'll be under way.

Good. I think that's all
for now, then, Graham,

since we don't appear to be sinking.

Wake me if that should change.

_

_

Algonquian, Massacred by Mohawk.

- Did that disturb you?
- Which part, Francis?

The savages, or that
they became Catholics?

I have a question for you later.

No question is needed, Francis.

But you'll hear me out?

Sir James Ross at Furthest South.

If you believe that depiction,
you've dropped a stone at least

since we've been back.

And seen a dentist as well, apparently.

Ladies and gentlemen,

it's our great honor to find
up in the boxes tonight

the actual Sir James Ross!

Get up, old man.

Bravo, gentlemen! Bravo.

You should stand up.

I don't want you to do to me

what you did to Tom Hartnell's brother.

Well...

...that... that was for
the good of the crew.

We needed to know if it was
scurvy killed John Hartnell...

I want to go to my grave as I am.

Don't cut me open.

- Do you promise?
- If Sir John orders it done,

we must do.

You may be a warning of things to come.

Now, hold... hold fast, David.

If Sir John orders it...

I will do it.

Do you know...

sometimes...

when people are near passing...

I've heard they speak of a radiance...

...like a million daybreaks all in one.

In which loved ones are
there to welcome them over.

We grew up at the Foundlings.

I never knew me father...

or me mum.

Then...

Then there will be the angels...

with songs... lovelier than you've heard.

Will I fly? Up to God?

Yes.

You... You'll see the Passage
first, then, as you go.

Try... Try to call back and
let us know where it is.

I wanted to be 'ere... when we found it.

Do not fear it, David. I...

I have been there when souls have passed.

A great peace descends.

They are glass.

But the ring is plate.

It won't fetch much but
my sister should have it.

It's a nasty jar but...

...but I can't get it off.

I... I can ask cook for some grease.

- Or I have an oil of castor...
- No.

When you're sure I'm gone...

...find a way.

And don't tell Sir John I was afraid.

You have my word.

There's nothing

to be afraid of.

He's been going on like
that since the wind died.

Something's got him worked up.

Take your wigs off.

Don't you hear that?

Give me your glass.

Yeah.

Just don't drop it. It belongs
to Lieutenant Irving.

Put a thumb in it.

No...

No...

No.

No!

David?

- No. No.
- David? David?

Wake Mr. Blanky.

Do it now.

No!

No!

Run! Run! He wants us to run!

- David, calm down.
- No!

Come.

Sorry to disturb you.

David Young has passed.

As if that weren't plain.

Cover him and get some rest, Mr. Goodsir.

Some... Some...

You can do the post-mortem in
the morning when the men go up.

I-Is it necessary?

Sir John has a flea in
his ear about scurvy.

- He will ask.
- Something...

...transpired... at the end.

He... He was seeing
something I couldn't see.

Holding its gaze as if it
was in the room with us...

Do I really need to explain
what is an hallucination?

He had no fever. He was clear-eyed.

Good night, Mr. Goodsir.

Look at the snow on those bergy bits.

That's not summer break up.

That's coming down from the north.

It's pack ice.

There are leads but...

How was the cold last night?

It dropped. 20.

Is Erebus aware?

Well, no flags as yet.

But no doubt they woke
thinking of their propeller.

If Sir John doesn't convene a
meeting of the officers by ten,

I'll do it myself.

You're about to surpass us all, son.

You're going somewhere
no man has ever been

not even a native.

If it is ice wedged behind the propeller,

and you can pry it out,

well, you'll have grabbed the
ring twice in one morning.

Right.

Observe my signals.

One pull on the tube means
half a fathom's slack.

Two means the tube is kinked,
likely on the gunwale.

Three... pull me up.

If water floods the suit,

it will be exponentially
harder to lift me

and exponentially more urgent,

so all of you be ready on the line.

There should be a surgeon here.

They're just below, Mr. Collins. Proceed.

You're a pilgrim to the deeps.

And remember... God lies in all realms.

Lower him in.

Steady.

Haul me up!

You wouldn't call this cirrhotic.

And there's gall.

I don't see scurvy.

- I don't see anything at all.
- Open the bowel.

Propeller's bent.

One of the blades...

I pried some ice from behind.

I think she'll spin now, sir.

Is there anything else to report?

- No, sir.
- Capital job, Mr. Collins.

Graham, let the engineers
know and signal Terror.

Have Captain Crozier bring
his lieutenants over.

- Sir.
- We need to confer

about the ice that's in front of us now.

I envy you, Mr. Collins.

I have long wanted to move below.

What was it like?

Like a dream, sir.

News is in about Erebus.

While she can still make
headway under steam,

the flagship's efficiency
has been compromised.

How badly compromised?

She can still pull two knots,
maybe three with the boiler full up.

- Half-power, more or less?
- Yes.

As well, we know that the ice ahead

is increasing dramatically,
both in thickness and amount.

But we must be nearly in
sight of King William Land.

Then it isn't but another 200 miles

before we can pick up the western charts

and draw in this final piece of
the puzzle once and for all.

Hear, hear.

Our situation is more dire
than you may understand.

Dramatic opening shot.

Please, go ahead, Francis.

That is not just ice ahead.
It is the pack.

And you are proposing that
we cross it, in September.

Even with leads, it could take us weeks

of picking our way through it.

- We may not have weeks.
- What, weeks at most?

You've seen the sun dogs, Graham?

How many have there been now?

Three.

It's already a colder year than last.

I've been to the Arctic,

- Francis.
- On foot.

And you nearly starved.

Not all of your men returned.

I say this with all due honor.

For God's sake, Francis.

A captain is due his candor.

So, what would you propose instead?

- Wait out winter here?
- No.

The exact shape of King
William Land is unknown.

As we discovered with Cornwallis Land,

it could be King William Island,

with a chance to sail
around its eastern shore.

Yes, but east would add miles.

We might not be out this year after all.

But only because Erebus is lame.

If we consolidate all our coal

on the less-damaged
ship, we'd have enough

to go for broke and get
east of King William Land

possibly around it before winter.

It's our best, and probably only, chance.

Yes. We should go for broke.

Abandon Erebus? Is... Is
that what you're saying?

If it is a dead end, we can over-winter

in complete safety out of the pack...

in some sheltered harbor.

We retrace our steps come spring...

tired of one another,
no doubt, but alive.

That is an interesting... speculation.

But, of course, we will not be
abandoning Erebus nor Terror,

should she suffer some minor misfortunes.

- We are almost there...
- Hear me, John.

It won't matter if we're 200 or
2,000 miles from safe water.

If the leads close up and
we are out there in it,

we'll have no idea where the
current will move the pack,

of which we will be a part.

We could be forced onto the shallows

on the weather side of King William

and crushed to atoms,

if we're even upright by then.

As a trusted friend once put it...

This place wants us dead.

Who is this friend? Does
he also write melodrama?

Sir John, myself, Mr. Blanky and Mr. Reid.

Only four of us at this
table are Arctic veterans.

There'll be no melodramas here.

Just live men... or dead men.

It's certainly good to see color

in your cheeks again, Francis.

But we are two weeks
from finding the grail.

And it is my belief that God and winter

will find us in safe waters
by the end of the year.

The Sandwich Islands. Or even further.

If you're wrong, we are about
to commit an act of hubris...

we may not survive.

You know what men are like
when they are desperate.

We both do.

I shall continue to command from Erebus,

but due to her injuries,

I'm putting Terror in lead position.

She may not be the better ice-breaker,

but she's the more powerful ship now.

Bury your boy... Young
and we'll be on our way.

West around King William Land as planned.

- Bury?
- Yes. A mercy.

It was a long night.

� Long ago in Westminster �

� There lived a rat-catcher's daughter �

All this when we could have
just dropped him overboard

and been done with it.

Sir John's a spiritual man.

- I'd say an impractical one.
- Careful there.

What, is that some kind
of treason, Sergeant?

They shoulda run more
nails through that lid.

Pull up the ropes and
fill it in, Mr. Hickey.

Me?

Mr. Hornby tells me you
have the most duty owing.

Didn't tell me why.

Grousing, probably.

Are... Are we just gonna
leave it like that?

Unless you want to climb in
there and fix it, yes, we are.

Hop to it, Mr. Hickey.

Mr. Hickey...

It's not important.

Sergeant Tozer said it's not important.

Well, it would be to this
boy's father, wouldn't it?

Help a mate up.

And Jesus saith unto Thomas:

"Because thou hast seen
me, thou hast believed...

but blessed are they
that have not yet seen

but still believe."

And just as David Young
is at the gates...

so too are we.

And now is our moment to stride
through them, to our glory,

and to our destiny.

I have set a course south south-west.

We will see the North American
mainland within a fortnight,

gentlemen.

We must now begin our
last and best efforts

to reach her,

as we become the greatest
Argonauts of our age!

We shall earn our loved
ones' cheers and embraces

at our return.

Onwards, men!

Alright, lads.

Man the braces!

- Hard to starboard!
- Hard to starboard it is, sir!

- Hard to starboard!
- Go to it, man.

Let's hit it with force.

There should be more men picking here!

Why is there only one man picking?

SIX DAYS LATER

Alright, men, stand back!

Right, everybody, fall back!

Our Lord and Father will see us through.

Whatever morning brings.

Get the ice anchors up.
We're part of it now.

Sir.

Fix our position with care, Mr. Reid.

I want to know exactly where we are

in relation to King William Land.

Yes, sir.

When the men are fed,

have them begin pulling the tarp up.

Mr. Gregory can start drawing
down the engine for winter.

Your demeanor should be
all cheer, gentlemen.

You understand? It's going to be tight,

but that's what we signed up for

an adventure for Queen and Country.

An adventure of a lifetime.

That's what you tell the men.

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