Chapter I: The Perfect Ship
"It's absolutely perfect."
Gazing wantonly across the docks of Tortuga, Captain Jack Sparrow took off his hat and brushed the sweat off his forehead. The sun was blazing overhead, and the heat was more than any drunkard could bear. Yet Jack's attention was not on the heat, but rather a small fishing vessel that was securely tied to one of the docks. Though undersized and comprised of nothing more than a single sail, the boat nevertheless looked in far better condition than the other fishing boats that lay beached or tied to the docks. Dusting off the brim of his Captain's hat, Jack placed it on his head once more and casually walked onto the docks.
"Harbormaster," Jack called, looking casually about himself. His thumbs clung loosely around his belt. "Harbormaster! A moment, if you please."
A small podgy man from across the docks looked up at Jack, obviously just the man Jack was looking to find. Looking irritated, the man made a noticeable sigh and began walking over to Jack.
"Ah! Harbormaster," Called Jack, clapping his hands together and walking briskly towards the dwarf to meet him halfway. "Just the 'mate I've been looking for. I was wondering if you would be so kind as to direct me towards the owner of that fine vessel." Jack flung a casual nod over towards the fishing boat. The Harbormaster took a moment to look Jack over, then spat near his feet. "Is' against policy to be givin' out that sort of information," he cackled, his voice wet and menacing.
"Ah yes," Jack said, clapping his hands together and leaning onto the tips of them with his chin. "Policy comes with a price, but so does information, eh?"
The Harbormaster spat again near Jacks' feet and gazed up at his guiltless smile. Narrowing his eyes, the Harbormaster looked suspiciously into Jacks' own.
"Ye' saying I take a bribe from yah?"
Jack took a step back from the Harbormaster, his innocent expression clearly exaggerated. "Why, Harbormaster! ...By the way, is there a right name I should call you? Bob? Charles, perhaps?"
The Harbormaster kept his eyes locked narrowly on Jack. Another spit was his answer.
"Savvy." Jack Muttered. "Harbormaster, I am merely inquiring as to your position on the exchange of currency for subtle information - be it a location - nigh - a name followed by the location where the name can be sought." The Harbormaster took a moment, obviously lost in Jack's babbling. Shaking his head, he muttered a curse under his breath and gazed back up at Jack.
"Information ain't cheap." he spat.
"Neither is my offer." Jack returned.
"It's more than a shilling."
"But less than a dozen."
"Six." The Harborman charged.
"Four." Jack countered.
"Five, and not a shilling less."
Jack smiled, and pulled from his jacket a small satchel of coins. "A fine offer to be sure, 'mate, and one I intend to make worth your while. Now," he continued as he shook the bag above the Harborman's thick head, "You first – give me the lads' name."
"It ain't a lads'. It's a lassies."
"A lassie, eh?" Jack looked up curiously at the boat, an uneasy frown settling on his face. "And I've come to gather that not many 'lassies' would own a personal vessel for themselves in these parts." Jack gave a moment's pause, continued to stare out at the boat, deep in an unpleasant thought, eyes squinted, frown narrowing. Jack shrugged, and threw the satchel into his opposite hand. Pacing around the irritated Harborman, whose sharp, scrutinizing eyes had never been taken off Jack.
"If you would please," Jack motioned to the Harborman, rubbing his chin as he walked, "Tell me, did this 'lassie' have dark skin?"
"Yeah."
"Has the somewhat distinguished look of a pessimist?"
The Harborman considered. "I suppose."
"About yay-high?" Jack motioned with his hands.
"Yeah, about that," the Harborman said. "Goes by the name of-"
"Ana Maria" Jack finished his sentence.
The Harborman twitched at the name. "Yeah, tha's tha' one. Calls her vessel there the Jolly Mon. She docked early this mornin'. Kept mostly to herself though – only in town fer' a day 'er two."
"And I suppose," Jack recited, "That she is to be found in one of the more ill-acquainted taverns of Tortuga," he answered himself. Jack flicked his hat and placed his satchel of coins back inside one of his jacket pockets. Clapping his hands together he gave the Harborman a quick bow.
"Many thanks, 'mate. Now if you would excuse me, I shall trouble you no more and be on my merry way."
"Hey!" The Harbormaster bellowed, "You owe me five shillings!"
Jack, now a short distance away, turned back to face the Harbormaster. "Do I?" He inquired curiously, "But then you never did tell me what I asked you for in the first place."
The Harbormaster, left alone and caught in the twisted truth of the sneaky and illustrious Captain Jack Sparrow, could do nothing but yell and curse his tongue towards the vacant sea.
Chapter II: coming soon.
"It's absolutely perfect."
Gazing wantonly across the docks of Tortuga, Captain Jack Sparrow took off his hat and brushed the sweat off his forehead. The sun was blazing overhead, and the heat was more than any drunkard could bear. Yet Jack's attention was not on the heat, but rather a small fishing vessel that was securely tied to one of the docks. Though undersized and comprised of nothing more than a single sail, the boat nevertheless looked in far better condition than the other fishing boats that lay beached or tied to the docks. Dusting off the brim of his Captain's hat, Jack placed it on his head once more and casually walked onto the docks.
"Harbormaster," Jack called, looking casually about himself. His thumbs clung loosely around his belt. "Harbormaster! A moment, if you please."
A small podgy man from across the docks looked up at Jack, obviously just the man Jack was looking to find. Looking irritated, the man made a noticeable sigh and began walking over to Jack.
"Ah! Harbormaster," Called Jack, clapping his hands together and walking briskly towards the dwarf to meet him halfway. "Just the 'mate I've been looking for. I was wondering if you would be so kind as to direct me towards the owner of that fine vessel." Jack flung a casual nod over towards the fishing boat. The Harbormaster took a moment to look Jack over, then spat near his feet. "Is' against policy to be givin' out that sort of information," he cackled, his voice wet and menacing.
"Ah yes," Jack said, clapping his hands together and leaning onto the tips of them with his chin. "Policy comes with a price, but so does information, eh?"
The Harbormaster spat again near Jacks' feet and gazed up at his guiltless smile. Narrowing his eyes, the Harbormaster looked suspiciously into Jacks' own.
"Ye' saying I take a bribe from yah?"
Jack took a step back from the Harbormaster, his innocent expression clearly exaggerated. "Why, Harbormaster! ...By the way, is there a right name I should call you? Bob? Charles, perhaps?"
The Harbormaster kept his eyes locked narrowly on Jack. Another spit was his answer.
"Savvy." Jack Muttered. "Harbormaster, I am merely inquiring as to your position on the exchange of currency for subtle information - be it a location - nigh - a name followed by the location where the name can be sought." The Harbormaster took a moment, obviously lost in Jack's babbling. Shaking his head, he muttered a curse under his breath and gazed back up at Jack.
"Information ain't cheap." he spat.
"Neither is my offer." Jack returned.
"It's more than a shilling."
"But less than a dozen."
"Six." The Harborman charged.
"Four." Jack countered.
"Five, and not a shilling less."
Jack smiled, and pulled from his jacket a small satchel of coins. "A fine offer to be sure, 'mate, and one I intend to make worth your while. Now," he continued as he shook the bag above the Harborman's thick head, "You first – give me the lads' name."
"It ain't a lads'. It's a lassies."
"A lassie, eh?" Jack looked up curiously at the boat, an uneasy frown settling on his face. "And I've come to gather that not many 'lassies' would own a personal vessel for themselves in these parts." Jack gave a moment's pause, continued to stare out at the boat, deep in an unpleasant thought, eyes squinted, frown narrowing. Jack shrugged, and threw the satchel into his opposite hand. Pacing around the irritated Harborman, whose sharp, scrutinizing eyes had never been taken off Jack.
"If you would please," Jack motioned to the Harborman, rubbing his chin as he walked, "Tell me, did this 'lassie' have dark skin?"
"Yeah."
"Has the somewhat distinguished look of a pessimist?"
The Harborman considered. "I suppose."
"About yay-high?" Jack motioned with his hands.
"Yeah, about that," the Harborman said. "Goes by the name of-"
"Ana Maria" Jack finished his sentence.
The Harborman twitched at the name. "Yeah, tha's tha' one. Calls her vessel there the Jolly Mon. She docked early this mornin'. Kept mostly to herself though – only in town fer' a day 'er two."
"And I suppose," Jack recited, "That she is to be found in one of the more ill-acquainted taverns of Tortuga," he answered himself. Jack flicked his hat and placed his satchel of coins back inside one of his jacket pockets. Clapping his hands together he gave the Harborman a quick bow.
"Many thanks, 'mate. Now if you would excuse me, I shall trouble you no more and be on my merry way."
"Hey!" The Harbormaster bellowed, "You owe me five shillings!"
Jack, now a short distance away, turned back to face the Harbormaster. "Do I?" He inquired curiously, "But then you never did tell me what I asked you for in the first place."
The Harbormaster, left alone and caught in the twisted truth of the sneaky and illustrious Captain Jack Sparrow, could do nothing but yell and curse his tongue towards the vacant sea.
Chapter II: coming soon.
