The DuPont Company, maker of better things for better living through chemistry, presents
the Cavalcade of America, starring Mickey Rooney.
Good evening.
This is Mickey Rooney.
Tonight's cavalcade is called South of Cape Horn.
When you hear it, keep in mind that it happened 130 years ago.
It's a true sea story with a surprise ending, a deep sea yarn about superstitious sailors
and ghost ships.
The time of our play, 1820.
Place, a home in Stonington, Connecticut.
Well there you have it, Mr. Palmer and Mrs. Palmer.
I'm taking a fleet of eight vessels down after sea.
Yeah, that's good, Captain.
Yes.
Your son, Nat, served me well last year as mate in the Hercilia.
And I think he's ready for command.
Well, fine, Captain, fine.
Then you're giving him the command of the Hercilia.
Well, that's good.
No, not exactly, Mr. Palmer.
I want him to take out the sloop hero.
What?
The hero?
Yes.
Why, man, you can't mean what you're saying.
Oh, now, Mr. Palmer, I'm telling you.
They were talking about me, Nat Palmer, and I knew it.
Maybe I shouldn't have listened outside the door, but I wanted that little sloop.
I wanted her very much.
So I listened to my father and Captain Pendleton and my mother's neat parlors.
Oh, no, I know the boat's on the small side, Mr. Palmer.
On the small side?
But you see, we need a fast shallow draft boat for scout service.
And we'll be searching out New Seal Island.
Small, is she?
Why, she's no bigger than a pumpkin seed in a high wind.
I'm a ship builder, sir.
And I say it'd be murder to send my son 9,000 miles south in that slop jar.
Well, now.
Be quiet, Marce.
One foot freeboard she has.
One foot.
All right for Long Island Sound, maybe.
Now, Nathaniel, don't get all worked up.
I'm sure Captain Pendleton knows what he's about.
Well, thank you, ma'am.
Mrs. Palmer, do you mean to say that you want your son and mine to go hooting off to the
South Pole in a leaky old cockle shell?
No, course I don't.
But I'm sure Nat's got his mind set on it.
And he's just as stubborn as his father.
Besides, it isn't every Stonington boy gets to be a captain at 20.
Oh.
Well, all right.
All right, then.
We leave it up to the boy.
Oh, fine, fine.
After all, he is a Connecticut Palmer.
If anybody can do it, he can.
Good.
And speak of the devil.
Evening, folks.
Well, hello, man.
Father Captain Pendleton.
Son, come here.
You know what this is about?
Yes, sir, I do.
You think you can take the sloop hero to the Seal Islands and back?
You know the boat boy?
I know her, sir.
She's tricky to handle, but there's no vessel bigger than a skiff.
I can't take anywhere on earth and back.
When do we start, Captain?
And so the Stonington expedition set out for the Seal Rich Islands of the deep South Atlantic.
There were five brigands and two schooners.
And then me and the little hero like a terrier at the heels of seven great Danes.
Off Block Island on August 1st, 1820, I took my departure and set my course.
We had a crew of four on the hero, and Phineas Wilcox's mate.
What's the course, Captain?
South East by East, Finn.
South East by East sheers.
Good.
Well, let the Irishman take the wheel.
Hey there, O'Toole.
Aye, aye, sir.
Take the helm, O'Toole.
Jump to it.
Yes, sir.
Very good, sir.
How am I doing, Finn?
Already clear, Nat.
You sound like you was born to be a sea captain.
Maybe I was, Finn.
Maybe I was.
And a month later I rode in my log, September 1st, 1820, off the Brazils, having passed
the comms of Capricorn, set course to reach southward inside the Falkland Islands, followed
for the past three days by a shark and many petrels.
King O'Toole's watch at the helm ordered Phineas to kill shark with a rifle.
Oh, the good Lord savership killed a stormy petrel instead of the shark.
Yeah, what of it?
Look out, I'll try again.
What of it?
Have you never heard what happens to the man who harms St. Petersburg?
Here, here now, here's the captain.
You ask him, young as he is, he knows.
Hey, what do I know, Mike?
That is most grievous bad luck for to kill a petrel, so it is.
Bad luck is it.
Bad luck for the shark, maybe.
Let me, let me have that gun, Finn.
Here, and yonder's the shark again.
Look.
Yep.
Ha ha ha!
Got him first try.
Does that look like bad luck, O'Toole?
Maybe no, maybe yes.
But there's one thing you'll not be denying, sir.
This time of year and south of Buco, them there birds mean heavy weather.
October 1st, 1820, in latitude of Cape Horn of log nearly 9,000 miles from point of departure.
Heavy seas, sleet, rain, fog, frozen rigging, three days without sleep.
Even O'Toole is too done in to tell his ghost tales.
What Mike had said about the stormy petrel worried me, for if anyone needed luck, we
did.
So, one moonlight night, beyond the great storm, with all of us taking our ease on deck,
while one of the boys made homesick music on his harmonica.
Nat.
Yes, sir?
About that petrel we killed, do you think?
I think nothing of it, sir, it's just passed and gone.
Listen now to the lovely music and how it talks at home.
But Mike, you were right about the weather.
Maybe you're right about bad luck.
Tell me.
Tell me, what is the story?
All right, since you insist then, I'll tell you.
When a man is lost at sea, one of them same little gray birds it is that bears off his
soul to the throne of grace itself.
But, but, mind you, if the man has killed such a bird, there's none left to honor his
poor loss for it.
And so he must wander up and down and across all the seven seas in a ship full of ghosts
like the like of himself until the judgment day.
What is most grievous bad luck for to kill a petrel?
So it is.
So it is.
November 12th, 1820, reach rendezvous at Ragged Island.
Only a day behind Schooner Express, last of the fleet.
Reported to Campden Pendleton.
Well, well, boy, you don't know how glad I am to see you.
I promised you.
Yes, I know.
Maybe father was right.
Well, you're not discouraged, boy.
No, but don't you think, sir, you'd better stop calling me boy?
You've done a man's work, huh?
Yes, I can see you have.
All right, Captain Palmer, there's more such work to be done.
Yes, sir.
I have disappointing news, Captain.
The Britisher that was here last year, the Santo.
Well, she must have spread the good word.
There's been a fleet in the islands before us, and we're going to have to scurry for
seals.
Now, I want you to take the hero out again and search for new seal beaches.
And the course, sir.
Due south, Captain Palmer.
Due south.
Latitude, Finn, is 68 degrees south.
I want you to remember that no ship, big or little, has ever sailed this far south before,
at least wise if they did.
They never got back to say so.
I want you to remember, just in case you get back to Pendleton, and I don't, you understand.
You figure one of us might...
One of us might not get back, yes.
I don't want to scare you, any Finn, but we're in a bad spot.
Now, when did we first sight land to the south?
Ten days ago, Ned.
No seals.
No seals at all.
No seals on the beaches.
But plenty of land.
We followed this coast, and I've charted it accurate for 300 miles.
If it's an island, Finn, it's a mighty big island.
No seals.
An area covered.
The seals may not be so important later on.
That's why I want you to remember the figures.
Maybe this is bigger than the seals and the money they bring.
I don't know.
All I know is we've been becalmed now for three days.
It's about time we caught a trace of breeze.
O'Toole says that we're going to...
Finn O'Toole's a good man, but he imagines things.
Right now he's up on...
I imagine things, do I?
Begging your pardon, sir, but do I imagine that we've been rolling here in the fog for
three whole days?
Look it out, O'Toole.
I imagine that I can't see my hand before my face for the great thick fog at all.
Ned, listen, Ned.
Do you hear what I hear?
Some music.
What kind of music?
Never heard anything like it.
It'd be saying I was imagining things if I said it was the music of ghosts and them making
merry over dead man's bones.
Do I imagine that music, Captain?
It stopped.
Mike, we must have imagined it.
No ship's keel has cut these waters since time began, and I'll not be frightened of
a tinkle in the fog.
Mr. Wilcox.
Yes, sir.
It's time to change the watch.
Will you strike eight bells, Mr.?
Sure, Ned.
Gosh.
There.
Do you hear that now?
A ghost ship, that's what it is.
A ghost ship out there.
Waiting.
Waiting for us.
You are listening to South of Cape Horn, starring Mickey Rooney on the cavalcade of America,
sponsored by the DuPont Company, makers of better things for better living through chemistry.
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Every new product, whether developed by DuPont or another manufacturer, must prove that it
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Serving you is the purpose of DuPont's better things for better living through chemistry.
130 years ago, Nat Palmer took a tiny sailboat only 47 feet in length into the uncharted
waters of the Antarctic.
And this is his story.
So there we were, six months, 9,000 sea miles south of home, becalmed and fog-bound off
an unknown coast.
All through the night, the ship's bell aboard the hero found its echo out in that freezing
smother of fog.
No other ship could be there.
I knew it.
We all knew it.
And yet, the six bells in the first gray light are done.
Listen.
Listen now, quiet.
There it goes again.
My lordy, Nat, do you think O'Toole could be right?
Is it a ghost ship?
Nat, what are we going to do?
Wait.
It's all we can do.
Hold on.
Hold on.
Is that a bit of a breeze?
It is that.
And this is what we need.
Rouse out the men, Finn.
We'll get underway at last.
And look, the fog's clearing a bit.
I can see it is.
Call the men.
Yes, sir.
And be live about it.
O'Toole!
Call the men, Finn!
All hands on deck.
Ready to make sail, Nat.
Wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
Look.
Look off the starboard bow.
There.
There's your ghost.
There's your frigate.
The men of war.
Look at them guns.
Not very tidy for a naval craft.
Patched sails, slack sheets, paint peeling off of it.
What is the fly in Dutchman itself?
Lord, save us all.
Why did I ever leave body-cornered?
Belay that duffel, O'Toole.
She's solid enough.
And...
And she's swarming with men.
Never saw the likes of those uniforms, though.
Spirits, they are poor lost souls.
Quiet, quiet, will you, quiet.
Running up a flag.
The flag of the doomed, but I...
Whatever flag it is, I've never seen it before.
Now they're lowering a boat.
We're about to receive visitors.
Look, Nat.
There's a fair breeze now.
We could be off and out of here in two shakes.
Come on, Nat.
Give the order.
We could get away.
They didn't blow us out of the water first, but I...
I've got a notion to see this through.
I...
I want to find out what it's all about.
Nelson.
Yes, sir?
Bring my pistols from the cabin, the rifles from the locker raft.
Here's the key.
Hurry.
What do you man?
I'm against dead men and them walking their corpses around to the light of the morning,
bold as you please.
Mike, Mike, if I didn't know you for a brave man, I'd clap you in irons.
We'll have no more ghost talk, Mike.
No, sir.
I...
I mean, yes, sir.
Aye, aye, sir.
Here comes the boat.
My land shakes.
Look at that officer in the stern sheets, dressed up like a Christmas tree, all over
middle.
What do you think?
No, my darling can talk.
What's he saying?
I don't know, I don't know.
I've never heard that lingo before.
I reckon he wants to know who we are.
He thinks we're ghosts, maybe.
Yes, that's it, Phil.
The Sloop hero, Stonington, Connecticut, Nathaniel Palmer commanding.
Give him a hand over the rail, will you, Oto?
Me?
I said, help him over the rail and jump to it, man.
Aye, aye, sir.
Dobro utro.
Kto zest kapitan?
Vyi?
Vyi?
Sorry, mister, can't understand a word you say.
Do you, uh, do you maybe speak English?
Pazhalo sta priditi knam.
Tuda, Vostok, tuda.
He's pointing to the frigate.
They want us to join the other ghosts over yonder.
Very good, mister, we come.
You understand, we come with you.
Horosho.
Horosho.
You ain't going over there, are you?
Sure thing, and so you'll bring along that log, Finn.
I have a feeling we'll need it.
Keep that pistol where you can reach it quick.
Now, come along.
Stop your special eye over seeing that.
Where do you suppose they're taking us?
The cabin, I guess.
Can I get a hold of that gun?
Yes, sir.
Tuda, pozhalo sta.
In here?
Da, tuda.
Kapitan skoja koyota.
Vodite pozhalo sta.
Finn.
Finn, do you see what I see?
My gosh, Nat, they must be ghosts.
No human being would ever dress up like that.
There's the high priest.
Quiet, quiet, quiet, Finn.
Welcome, gentlemen.
Welcome.
You, uh, you speak English?
But certainly, I've spent many years in London.
Allow me to present you.
Allow me to present myself.
I am Captain Fadif Fadiewicz von Bollingshausen, commanding the frigate Vostok in the service
of His Imperial Majesty Alexander I, Tsar of all the Russia's.
And you, sir?
Captain Nathaniel Palmer, commanding the sloop hero out of Stonington, Connecticut, USA, in
search of seal.
Captain Palmer, do you mean to tell me you have journeyed this far south in that little
shallop out there, no bigger than the Vostok's launch?
Yes, sir.
We sailed from Stonington in August 1820, six months ago.
Miraculous.
If you will pardon me, boy, how old are you?
Twenty-one, sir.
Last August 8th.
Wonderful.
Wonderful.
May I present my officers?
Lieutenant Pavlov.
Lieutenant Rimsky.
Lieutenant Parfen.
Ensign Sumeru.
And your escort, Ensign Kirilov.
Very happy to know you, gentlemen.
This is my mate, Phineas Wilcox, also of Stonington.
Pre-laid.
My gosh, I sure am glad to know you.
Lordy, I sure am.
I thought you were spirit.
My men thought your vessel was a ghost ship, sir, earlier this morning.
Well, ours is a mission of exploration, my boy.
We seek new lands for His Imperial Majesty here in the Antarctic.
Oh.
And three days ago, we thought we saw islands ahead.
That would be the South Shetland Seal Islands.
If you wish to visit any of them, it will afford me great pleasure to be your pilot, sir.
But, sir, no islands have ever been charted in that position.
How could you?
We found them, sir, last year in the Cilia Brick.
But, my dear boy, we have been sailing triangular courses south of 60 degrees for a year all through these waters.
And we saw no islands, no land at all in that long time.
If it's land you're looking for, Captain, there's a mighty big chunk of it just south of here.
I mapped 300 miles of coastline before the fog set in.
Never did see the end of it.
Captain Palmer, may I please examine your charts and your logs, sir?
Why, certainly. I brought them along.
Had a hunch somebody might want to have a look.
Pint?
Here you are, Ned.
Thank you.
Captain, you'll find the new coastal charts in the back, I believe.
Thank you, Captain Palmer.
I shall ask the steward to bring in tea and vodka.
Pablo, Parfen, the rest of you, take a look at this.
Smotrisuda.
All right, Finn.
You can let go of that pistol now.
Well, my fingers are sort of growed around it, Ned.
See, what is this vodka?
Like rum, only stronger. You'll like it.
Not for breakfast, I want. I'm hungry.
Captain Palmer, sir.
Yes, sir.
If this map is accurate and I can see that you are a meticulous workman, sir,
you will soon be a famous man.
And I must report to my imperial master that my mission has failed.
Oh, sir, I didn't realize...
Captain, what is your greatest ambition, your fondest hope?
To build fine ships or fast ships, faster ships than anyone else has ever built before.
I am certain you will accomplish that aim, too, in time.
But destiny has touched you early, boy. So very early.
I'm afraid I don't understand you, sir.
Captain, for two centuries geographers have believed in the existence of a south polar landmass.
I have been one who so believed.
And I have devoted my life to exploration, dreaming,
dreaming that I might one day find this long-imagined land.
That was my secret mission and my heart's desire.
You have been my anticipator, Captain Palmer.
Well, Captain, I... I guess I'm sorry. I...
Oh, Ivan, you're just in time.
Take each of you a glass, gentlemen. I shall give you a toast.
Captain Palmer, Christopher Columbus had his predecessors, his anticipators,
and all their names have been lost to history.
We do not know for certain the identities of the original great discoverers.
But you, you, my boy, will be alone in your fame.
Gentlemen, charge your glasses.
I give you Captain Nathaniel Palmer,
discoverer of the Antarctic continent and the first continent finder
whose name will be known to all the world.
Drink.
Thank you, Captain.
Not a bad idea.
Great jump it.
And that is how a continent was found.
The Russian captain was right.
This continent finder's name is known to all the world.
Today that part of the Antarctic continent he found is known as Palmer's land.
And the Russian captain was right on another point, too.
Twenty-three years after the cruise of the hero in 1844 at Brown and Bell
Shipyard in New York City, there was launched a beautiful ship,
one of the loveliest objects ever fashioned for utility by the hand and brain of man.
She was called the Hukwa, one of the first clipper ships launched upon the seven seas.
And she was designed by Captain Nathaniel Brown Palmer of Stonington in Connecticut.
Our star Mickey Rooney will return in just a moment.
Now here's Bill Hamilton with a timely tip for Christmas.
Under your tree on Christmas morning, there will be exciting packages of all shapes and sizes.
And they'll be even more exciting if they're wrapped in sparkling cellophane in rich holiday colors to glorify them with a Cinderella look.
Cellophane, one of DuPont's better things for better living through chemistry, has done much to brighten our American holiday season.
For more attractive gift wrappings, all you need are colored sheets, tape, and ribbon, all made of glistening cellophane.
And if you want to add an extra flair to your packages, that's easy, too.
For example, you can make pompons with a handful of colored cellophane drinking straws.
Just tie a string around the middle, pull tight, and watch the shimmering straws fan out into a smart decorative effect.
And of course, you can buy all kinds of cellophane decorations for your home and your Christmas tree.
Wreaths, bells, garlands, streamers, even cellophane snow.
Many of them are made of a special flame-resistant cellophane.
When the DuPont Company first began manufacturing cellophane in the United States in 1924, there was only one type.
But DuPont believed people would like this new chemically made film, and that they would need different kinds of cellophane to meet different problems.
Groups of scientists have been working together since, combining their talents to find new types for new uses.
And today, there are more than 50 different types of cellophane, used in more than 5,000 different ways.
One of these is for holiday decorations.
Our Christmases are brighter and more colorful because of cellophane.
One of the DuPont Company's better things for better living through chemistry.
Our star, Mickey Rooney.
Without my oil skins and rubber boots, and I don't need a sextant or a chronometer to tell you that it's later than you think,
there are only 10 more shopping days till Christmas.
While you're shopping, think about the people in Europe, will you?
If you haven't the time because you still have to get something for Aunt Emmy or Uncle Bill, let CARE shop for you.
The folks in Europe should be remembered too.
All you have to do is send as little as $5.50 to CARE, C-A-R-E, CARE, New York.
Thank you and good night.
Next week at Cavalcade time, the DuPont chorus of 127 men and women will again bring you a big package of Christmas cheer.
Beautiful Christmas carols, some old and familiar ones and some that perhaps you've never heard before.
We promise you, you'll enjoy this program. Please be with us.
Cavalcade is directed by John Zoller, the music composed by Arden Cornwell, conducted by Donald Borey.
Tonight's story, south of Cape Horn, was written by George Faulkner based on a portion of the book
Clippership Men by Alexander Lange, published by Duell, Sloan and Pierce.
Featured in the cast were Parker Fenley as Phineas, Arnold Moss as Ballinghausen, and Ian Martin as O'Toole.
Mickey Rooney appeared through arrangement with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer and can currently be seen in The Big Wheel,
a popkin-stifled Dempsey production released through United Artists,
photographed by Ernest Laszlo ASC on DuPont motion picture film.
This is Ted Pearson speaking.
Cavalcade of America comes to you from the stage of the Belasco Theater in New York
and is presented by the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware,
makers of better things for better living through tennis.
Stay tuned for the Baby Snooks show, followed by Bob Hope on NBC.