Jack Sparrow, captain of the Black Pearl, woke up and sat straight up
in his bed as he always did when he awoke. Under the ship where he normally
slept was musty and smelled of mildew, but if he closed his eyes and
breathed in, he could smell the salt of the sea air, leaking through the
cracks of the boards above him. There was nothing to ease his aching head
like the mist from the ocean.
Though he knew well that it was not his time to arise, he did so anyway. It was all that could ever take his mind off the subtle pleasures and burdens of a pirate's life. Not unusual was this behavior; this feeling that perhaps there was something more or maybe even less than what he had been pursuing in his life for so long, and that was freedom.
His eyes were tired and he still felt weary, but something told him he would sleep no more that night. Grudgingly, he reached over to the table next to him and took a swig from the bottle that sat on top of it. He breathed out after setting the bottle back on the table and the thick, pungent scent of rum filled his quarters. As much as he loved the smell, he didn't wish to stay cooped up. He opened the door above him and crawled out into the brisk breeze that was whipping past him.
He staggered to the bow of the ship and leaned over the side, peering into the black night, lit only by the faintly glowing crescent moon and an occasional star. It was mid-winter and the air was icy as it bit at his face. His breaths were deep and, when he exhaled, he could see a soft fog coming out of his mouth. He turned his back to the ocean and, leaning up against the boat, he could see the black sails whipping back and forth. He noticed, not for the first time, the shoddy repairs his crew had made to them, patches of their old clothing stitched into the cloth that forced the old ship to press onward, willed only by the strength of the wind and of its crew.
Looking at them forced a grin to spread across his face every time, and he still couldn't figure out why. Perhaps it was that, despite the difficulties he'd had in previous encounters, he had still managed to come back to his ship and return it to sailing ability. But no, that wasn't it. The grin faded from his face as he turned, yet another time, back to the ocean. He watched the moon sink slowly down past the horizon to take its repose on the other side of the Earth.
He closed his eyes, not from fatigue, but from the thought that one more night had slipped through his fingers like water through a sieve, and there was nothing he could do but hope the day did the same. He didn't know why, but there was something calming, almost melodious, about the solitude that the night left him with. Not only did it give him time to think, but it gave him time to be alone. He took joy in the company of his crew, in the delight they found from being ordered around by him, but he knew that once the sun went down, he wouldn't be troubled by the hustle and bustle of his life. That, for some reason, made him feel more at home on the ocean than ever.
Almost as the sun rose, he could feel its warmth wash over him. Most of the time, he would watch the sun rise. Even pirates take pleasure in the beauty of the sunrises, and they never get old when you're sailing on the ocean. Instead of watching one sun, it's as though you're watching two, for the colors are reflected in the water and can give off almost twice as much light and charm as one sunrise. This morning, however, the captain decided to lay dormant, his thoughts still with the moon that had long since traveled to the other side of the Earth.
He heard various noises come from below deck and swallowed, opening his eyes and realizing that his crew must be getting up at last. He didn't want them to. He didn't have the time he wanted with the night, and the day certainly wasn't going to spoil it. He decided to do something no other captain would have dared.
Several of his crew members had hopped out of their quarters and started working, all the while eyeing Jack apprehensively as he still faced out toward the ocean, not bothering to tell them what to do. Commotion had just started to arouse itself on the massive ship when Jack knew that, for once, his weary mind could take no noise.
He shut his eyes and thought as his crew began to grow louder. His voice undeniably had the potential to be sweet and charismatic, but it was slurred slightly with the apparent presence of alcohol that so clearly affected his mind. Forcing it to be loud and obvious, he spoke. "Go back to your quarters, you have the day off!"
The clamor immediately ceased and Jack was certain that he could almost feel the eyes of his crew upon him.
"Cap'n, don't you wish to sail today-"
"Did you not hear my orders!" barked Jack. "Leave the anchor where it is, and go back to bed..." His voice faded into an incoherent mumble that the rest of them could not comprehend. However, none of them dared question their currently formidable captain.
One by one, or two by two, Jack did not bother to find out which, they slunk back to their quarters and he heard nary a sound for several hours. He knew his crew could not stay silent for any time longer than eleven in the morning. They would need to release their energy at that point. However, until then, Jack had the deck to himself, and he was determined to make the best of it.
Suddenly, an unprecedented desire swept over him, like the ocean over a rowboat in a storm. He took his hat, boots, belt, and shirt off and climbed up onto the side of the boat. Without a moment's hesitation, he dove gracefully into the depths of the icy water, not caring if he froze to death.
He floated on his back for at least half an hour, his eyes shut, his body numb from the cold, and his mind wandering ceaselessly, thoughts racing in and out of it interminably, causing his head to hurt even more than it had before. He opened his eyes and saw to the East there was a small island there that he had not noticed the previous night.
He suddenly had a very strong longing to swim as fast as he could over to the island, and he couldn't figure this out. A month or two ago, he never would have chosen land over sea, under any circumstances. What was wrong with him? How long had he fought for the possession of his ship only to have a craving for land again?
He decided against it; the company of the ocean was all he would need for the moment. He breathed out deeply again and noticed that one of his crew had already risen. How could this be? It was only nine o'clock.
"Oy!" Jack yelled up at the man. "Don't you appreciate a little extra sleep when it's given to you?"
The man shrugged and said, "It isn't that at all, Cap'n, I just feel like I can't stay cooped up down there in me quarters for much longer without goin' mad."
Jack closed his eyes and sighed. He couldn't ignore the needs of his crew just to meet his own. "Very well, go on and tell the rest of them they're permitted to come up on deck now-"
"Thank you, Cap'n-!"
"But tell them no work!" interrupted Jack testily. "I want some peace and quiet on this ruddy ship for once! Savvy?"
"Aye, Captain." He nodded.
Soon enough, Jack heard people climbing out of their quarters silently as they could and standing around in random places on the deck. He heard whispers emit from the lot of them, and of course, there were things that he caught from their conversations, such as, "...acting strange..." and "...wonder what's wrong...?"
Finally, when he could take no more, he looked over at the island for a final time and climbed haphazardly back onto the deck of the ship.
"All right, all right, quiet down!" for the whispers had now spread across the ship and resulted in a dull roar. All was silent again as Jack continued. "I didn't think it was too much to ask of my crew to spend a day in solitude, but apparently, you wild animals are too restless and immature for that, so I'll tell you what we're gonna do!"
The crew awaited in anticipation.
"You see that island over there?" the captain pointed toward it and didn't bother waiting for a response. "We're going to go there, dock our ship in that port, and we'll have the whole week off!"
His crew looked horrified at the prospect of no work for a week, but nonetheless, they did as he told them.
He ambled on back toward the bow of the Black Pearl so he could instruct his crew and steer the ship simultaneously.
All went according to plan and, while his men were docking his ship, he decided he could stand no more of the noise, so he dove into the water and swam the rest of the way to the small island. The moment he set foot on it, there was no doubt in his mind that the thoughts of uncertainty about his life would end here.
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Though he knew well that it was not his time to arise, he did so anyway. It was all that could ever take his mind off the subtle pleasures and burdens of a pirate's life. Not unusual was this behavior; this feeling that perhaps there was something more or maybe even less than what he had been pursuing in his life for so long, and that was freedom.
His eyes were tired and he still felt weary, but something told him he would sleep no more that night. Grudgingly, he reached over to the table next to him and took a swig from the bottle that sat on top of it. He breathed out after setting the bottle back on the table and the thick, pungent scent of rum filled his quarters. As much as he loved the smell, he didn't wish to stay cooped up. He opened the door above him and crawled out into the brisk breeze that was whipping past him.
He staggered to the bow of the ship and leaned over the side, peering into the black night, lit only by the faintly glowing crescent moon and an occasional star. It was mid-winter and the air was icy as it bit at his face. His breaths were deep and, when he exhaled, he could see a soft fog coming out of his mouth. He turned his back to the ocean and, leaning up against the boat, he could see the black sails whipping back and forth. He noticed, not for the first time, the shoddy repairs his crew had made to them, patches of their old clothing stitched into the cloth that forced the old ship to press onward, willed only by the strength of the wind and of its crew.
Looking at them forced a grin to spread across his face every time, and he still couldn't figure out why. Perhaps it was that, despite the difficulties he'd had in previous encounters, he had still managed to come back to his ship and return it to sailing ability. But no, that wasn't it. The grin faded from his face as he turned, yet another time, back to the ocean. He watched the moon sink slowly down past the horizon to take its repose on the other side of the Earth.
He closed his eyes, not from fatigue, but from the thought that one more night had slipped through his fingers like water through a sieve, and there was nothing he could do but hope the day did the same. He didn't know why, but there was something calming, almost melodious, about the solitude that the night left him with. Not only did it give him time to think, but it gave him time to be alone. He took joy in the company of his crew, in the delight they found from being ordered around by him, but he knew that once the sun went down, he wouldn't be troubled by the hustle and bustle of his life. That, for some reason, made him feel more at home on the ocean than ever.
Almost as the sun rose, he could feel its warmth wash over him. Most of the time, he would watch the sun rise. Even pirates take pleasure in the beauty of the sunrises, and they never get old when you're sailing on the ocean. Instead of watching one sun, it's as though you're watching two, for the colors are reflected in the water and can give off almost twice as much light and charm as one sunrise. This morning, however, the captain decided to lay dormant, his thoughts still with the moon that had long since traveled to the other side of the Earth.
He heard various noises come from below deck and swallowed, opening his eyes and realizing that his crew must be getting up at last. He didn't want them to. He didn't have the time he wanted with the night, and the day certainly wasn't going to spoil it. He decided to do something no other captain would have dared.
Several of his crew members had hopped out of their quarters and started working, all the while eyeing Jack apprehensively as he still faced out toward the ocean, not bothering to tell them what to do. Commotion had just started to arouse itself on the massive ship when Jack knew that, for once, his weary mind could take no noise.
He shut his eyes and thought as his crew began to grow louder. His voice undeniably had the potential to be sweet and charismatic, but it was slurred slightly with the apparent presence of alcohol that so clearly affected his mind. Forcing it to be loud and obvious, he spoke. "Go back to your quarters, you have the day off!"
The clamor immediately ceased and Jack was certain that he could almost feel the eyes of his crew upon him.
"Cap'n, don't you wish to sail today-"
"Did you not hear my orders!" barked Jack. "Leave the anchor where it is, and go back to bed..." His voice faded into an incoherent mumble that the rest of them could not comprehend. However, none of them dared question their currently formidable captain.
One by one, or two by two, Jack did not bother to find out which, they slunk back to their quarters and he heard nary a sound for several hours. He knew his crew could not stay silent for any time longer than eleven in the morning. They would need to release their energy at that point. However, until then, Jack had the deck to himself, and he was determined to make the best of it.
Suddenly, an unprecedented desire swept over him, like the ocean over a rowboat in a storm. He took his hat, boots, belt, and shirt off and climbed up onto the side of the boat. Without a moment's hesitation, he dove gracefully into the depths of the icy water, not caring if he froze to death.
He floated on his back for at least half an hour, his eyes shut, his body numb from the cold, and his mind wandering ceaselessly, thoughts racing in and out of it interminably, causing his head to hurt even more than it had before. He opened his eyes and saw to the East there was a small island there that he had not noticed the previous night.
He suddenly had a very strong longing to swim as fast as he could over to the island, and he couldn't figure this out. A month or two ago, he never would have chosen land over sea, under any circumstances. What was wrong with him? How long had he fought for the possession of his ship only to have a craving for land again?
He decided against it; the company of the ocean was all he would need for the moment. He breathed out deeply again and noticed that one of his crew had already risen. How could this be? It was only nine o'clock.
"Oy!" Jack yelled up at the man. "Don't you appreciate a little extra sleep when it's given to you?"
The man shrugged and said, "It isn't that at all, Cap'n, I just feel like I can't stay cooped up down there in me quarters for much longer without goin' mad."
Jack closed his eyes and sighed. He couldn't ignore the needs of his crew just to meet his own. "Very well, go on and tell the rest of them they're permitted to come up on deck now-"
"Thank you, Cap'n-!"
"But tell them no work!" interrupted Jack testily. "I want some peace and quiet on this ruddy ship for once! Savvy?"
"Aye, Captain." He nodded.
Soon enough, Jack heard people climbing out of their quarters silently as they could and standing around in random places on the deck. He heard whispers emit from the lot of them, and of course, there were things that he caught from their conversations, such as, "...acting strange..." and "...wonder what's wrong...?"
Finally, when he could take no more, he looked over at the island for a final time and climbed haphazardly back onto the deck of the ship.
"All right, all right, quiet down!" for the whispers had now spread across the ship and resulted in a dull roar. All was silent again as Jack continued. "I didn't think it was too much to ask of my crew to spend a day in solitude, but apparently, you wild animals are too restless and immature for that, so I'll tell you what we're gonna do!"
The crew awaited in anticipation.
"You see that island over there?" the captain pointed toward it and didn't bother waiting for a response. "We're going to go there, dock our ship in that port, and we'll have the whole week off!"
His crew looked horrified at the prospect of no work for a week, but nonetheless, they did as he told them.
He ambled on back toward the bow of the Black Pearl so he could instruct his crew and steer the ship simultaneously.
All went according to plan and, while his men were docking his ship, he decided he could stand no more of the noise, so he dove into the water and swam the rest of the way to the small island. The moment he set foot on it, there was no doubt in his mind that the thoughts of uncertainty about his life would end here.
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~