Redlegs: Something's fishy - and I don't mean the finny kind.

Hook: Alright, boys, to the ship. And them that's tardy will fell the weight of this!
[he brandishes his right arm with its hook]

Capt. Ben Waldridge: Hook, you're drunk!
Hook: No, sir! The grog's not yet been brewed that can unsober the old Hook.

Capt. James Marshall: There's a British fleet sitting outside Salem harbor right now.
Col. Rogers: And the French coast will be blockaded by the time you get there.
Capt. James Marshall: I'm not worried about getting in, Colonel. It's getting back with ten million in gold bullion. That's a big risk.
Chairman Caleb Parsons: It's a risk that must be taken, Jim. It can mean the difference between winning and losing the war. Now, what about it?
Capt. James Marshall: We might be able to do it - with the help of one man.

[discussing Captain Waldridge's mini-submarine]
Redlegs: Sail under the water indeed - why, it's unchristian!

[Jim finds Captain Waldridge, his mentor, partying with three women]
Capt. James Marshall: Suppose you scatter these sea gulls from your rigging. I'd like to talk to you about something serious.
Capt. Ben Waldridge: You'll have to go, ladies, he's going to scold me. You know, I didn't tell you - it's a dark family secret - but Captain Marshall is my grandfather.

[Redlegs tries to calculate each mutineers' share of the gold they plan to steal]
Redlegs: Five million divided by two, three, four, six, seven, eight...
Hook: Stand away! Give 'im air. Can't you see he's sailin' uncharted waters!
Redlegs: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. One, two, three, four, five...
Hook: What is it, matey? Can I help you?
Redlegs: Hook, lift up my feet. I'll need my toes to mathematic this out.