She liked to think that she was a practical woman.
She refused to be a slave to any man or woman. So she took her freedom, which was rightfully hers to begin with. Then she refused to spend out the rest of her miserable days married to that bastard. So she bashed him over the head with that goddamned staff he was so fond of hitting her with and grabbed her stuff and left. She might have set their house on fire. Served him right.
That might not have been that practical.
She had signed onto the Fair Maiden as a cook and landed herself passage to Barbados. There, having learned the basics of sailing she bought herself a boat after a hellish time spent as a barmaid and earned her living ferrying idiot people to and fro about the island and fishing.
It was there that she met this wild-eyed boy who claimed to be the captain of his own ship and told tales of an island that held riches untold but was cursed. By this time she'd sworn her heart would lie in the hands of no man. But the boy was passionate and she did fall in love with the sea.
She was half-way sure this was not practical. But she went. Of course, his crew weren't as fond of their captain as to allow a woman on board so she stayed behind in Tortuga.
Six years saw her settled in Princeton and not a word came from the boy-captain till he showed up on her doorstep one day with a newfound bitterness in those quickfire eyes. She didn't need to hear the tale.
To think she felt sorry for the poor bastard. Let him into her home where they lived together in an almost normalcy for the next four years. And she almost loved him when the idiot went and stole her boat.
The Jolly Mon was her livelihood, how she made her living. And she had been much more than that, a sign of her independence and her freedom. He of all people should have known that. Did know that. It stung to know he had so easily broken off their bond and her trust to go chase after that ship.
So when she heard he had stolen a navy ship from Port Royal, she knew where he was going to sail it. And she had landed in Tortuga with the intention of knocking some sense into his skinny pirate ass.
Jack Sparrow was the most impractical man she ever had both the misfortune and the fortune of saying she knew.
Anamaria knew it had been impractical to bring him back the Pearl.
But after ten years of chasing her (the ship) and screwing over so many people along the way what sense was in letting Jack die the most stupid way possible?
Not at the end of Barbossa's sword in some sort of cliché but tragic show of heroism.
...But at the end of the petty Kings noose. Heaven and hellfire knows she almost left him to his fate. She had the Black Pearl, one of the most notorious and virtually uncatchable pirate ships in the Caribbean under her command.
It wasn't right to sail without Jack.
The Pearl knew it.
The crew knew it.
She knew it.
When she saw the look in his eyes she handed the Pearl she didn't regret it. Not a single heartbeat of it.
And THAT was the most impractical thing yet.