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If I had a son,
what would I tell him as a welcome to this world?
Perhaps I would just describe an evening, nothing else.
An evening on my boat,
this heavy, well-built freighter
which at any moment can become a fragile, tiny shell
compared to the forces of the sea beneath it.
I would tell him about this man's world of mine...
the monotony of the work, the simple food,
the rare moments of delirium in the harbors...
the beauty of sleeping under the stars.
I would tell him about that constant alertness,
towards the slightest changes of the rambling waves
which can take your life so easily,
without any bad intention...
I would tell him about our life...
trying to control the uncontrollable...
Lizzy, finally!
Hello.
Let me introduce our Lizzy's husband,
who is finally back from his voyage and is able to join us.
- Good evening. - Welcome.
So...
Let me introduce...
Madeleine, Paul, Henriette, Maurice...
Geneviève...
And so Jacques...
And Pierre! I always forget him, I don't know why...
And so Jacques travels on the oceans,
to bring us stories that we can't wait to hear.
Right?
That always fascinated me.
Travelling...
I'll leave you to it...
Yes of course, the laws of physics, but...
I don't know anything about physics.
Listen I asked him...
something completely stupid...
Why ships don't sink...
Préfet de police?
How could you hit that tree at two in the morning?
You think if you have a fancy cabriolet the whole town is yours?
You could have killed your gal!
I see in your file that you were dead drunk!
I don't understand... my wife...
thief...
Paul, come over, here is a guy...
who cannot speak.
No, not mute. He only speaks English.
Apparently he's the little lady's husband.
Shit...
poor guy.
What should we do?
God, we must tell him, this is the least we can do!
Wait, I've got something for you.
Here, you are...
Dedin!
I didn't introduce you...
but please meet Jacques.
Jacques, the husband of Lizzy. And our Dedin.
Guys, come quickly!
Keep the pressure stable!
You are shivering.
Pauvre chérie...
Come on, let's go.
You are tired.
You have to get in your bed.
Thank you. That's very kind of you, thank you.
You are welcome.
Give me the number!
Hello, so you took a look at those documents?
Look, I don't want to waste time...
A quarter pound of flour, please.
May I know what you need it for?
Why... what?
I'd like some flour. Easy enough, isn't it?
Sir, we have nine different types of flour.
Is it for leavened dough or for puff-pastry?
Or perhaps for cooking?
That's it, cooking.
Fred!
Captain Störr has personal problems.
Do we have any work for him?
Good evening. One bag please.
With pleasure!
50 cents.
That's fine...
- Thank you! - Have a nice evening!
What's that?
A scent of melon?
No, it's linseed oil!
Yes, it is...
Perhaps you know something about vegetable oils, my good man?
Oh, I certainly do.
Well, well... Who would have thought?
Where are you from?
From a small village near Arnhem.
But it's a long time since my childhood there.
A very long time.
Oh, interesting... that's where my grandmother is from.
Which village exactly?
Rijjsen.
And I thought you were some sort of Fleming!
My God, no!
I haven't been home for thirty years either.
I'll have to die
without having tasted a good hutspot again...
And bitterballen...
Bitterballen, that's right.
With a tad of cinnamon from Ceylon... or curry...
I need someone steady on our East Indies line.
I am not interested in short term solutions.
This is what I am looking for.
Good.
It is the Jasmina, harboured in Cuxhaven...
you should set sail in a week. It is all right, I hope?
I'd like to take my wife along.
Your wife?
Are you newlyweds or what?
Not exactly.
Or do you enjoy being with your wife so much?
Yes.
It's so rare.
I tend to place more trust in lucky people...
So...
You'll set sail for Java in a week then.
Along with your wife.
Am I dreaming or what...?
Why don't you join us!
We go to a costume ball!
We are harem ladies and we have no harem guard!
Thank you.
We are sailing for a seafarer's
pay over the salty sea
Though there are never women on board
Over the large and briny sea, over the salty sea
And whether we're in a good mood or bad over the salty sea
We are driven by the wind
Over the large and briny sea, over the salty sea
And we will get drunk ashore, over the salty sea
The pour beer as bitter as bile
Over the large and briny sea, over the salty sea
And when we are gone forever, over the salty sea
If I had a son,
what would I say to him by way of farewell?
I would describe this morning, maybe nothing else.
That should be enough...
One can't give advice anyway.
I would talk to him about evanescence...
That life is nothing more than playful variations.
That it is useless to look for something sublime behind it:
a planned purpose or a superior aim,
because there is nothing behind it.
Because just as the light slips away above us,
in the same way life slips away within us.
So what would I say to my son?
That he should learn to appreciate this eternal procession...
and not oppose it with all his strength
as I did at one time.
Then he'll become the sort of creature God had intended.
One who lives easily,
and passes on easily.