Captain Jack Sparrow couldn't help but roll his eyes at the wedding
of Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann when the priest pronounced that Will
could kiss the bride. "Sure," he had thought, "you're in love, you're
married. We know; we just sat through the whole damn ceremony. Do ye have
to flaunt it in front of God and ev'rybody?" He couldn't wait to hurry
away to Tortuga in order to bury himself in alcohol and loose women, which
is exactly what he did the moment he was sure Will had seen that he had in
fact shown up.
As he sat in his captain's quarters on his ship, the legendary Black Pearl, in a drunken stupor after a long night of debauchery on the Isle of Tortuga, he tried to piece together why he had suddenly felt the need for true companionship and, dare he even consider, love. There was a feeling he had not felt in a long time growing in the pit of his stomach. Not anger, not sadness, not jealousy, not even the likely nausea from far too much rum, even for him. Right before passing out however, he realized what it was. Regret.
He slept the fitful sleep of someone with too much on their mind that night, but when he woke up the next morning, despite feeling still tired and hung over, things seemed much clearer. "Boys," he announced to his crew once he had the tolerance to light to step out on deck, "prepare the sails. We're headed for Nassau."
As the legendary pirate ship made its way into Nassau, a young woman of a very different station in life by the name of Mrs. Isabelle Hopkins sat in her home at the British port of Nassau, gazing out the window and watching boats float at the docks. The thought occurred to her that she had not watched for ships sailing in in ages, and even longer had it been since she had watched for one specific ship, one with black sails. She had spent three years hoping to see the Black Pearl sail to Nassau, and eight more trying to forget that it had ever existed.
Yet, despite the long passage of time, it felt like just yesterday she had given up on the ship and the man on it she had waited so long for. As she left the window to sit on her sofa, she began to remember, and the memory, and the pain, was still fresh.
***Flashback***
"Miss Wilde, may I have a word? In private?" Admiral Edmund Hopkins asked as he touched Isabelle's elbow.
Isabelle sighed in relief, an uncommon response to the man from her. Her father, a well-off merchant of Nassau, pushed her into society with the Admiral, a man at least 20 years her senior, as often as possible in hopes of a match between the two. A match that Isabella would never have thought of, even in her worst nightmares.
"Of course," she replied graciously. To herself, she thought, "Dear, Admiral Hopkins. As awkward as he is, he must have sensed my annoyance at the gaggle of silly people surrounding me. God bless him." For a young lady of standing in the port community of Nassau in the British colony of the Bahamas, she most despised such gatherings, filled with pompous colonels and their wives, who were even more full of the ridiculous.
Admiral Hopkins gently led her into a drawing room adjoining the large dining hall. The poor man quite looked more uncomfortable than usual as he shut the door. "Um, Miss Wilde, there is a very important.eh.well, that is to say that.er.I was wondering if.it there was any chance at all of.what I mean to say is-" His hands clenched in frustration. "Damn it all." he muttered. Finally, in the fastest speech Isabelle had ever heard him utter, he said, "Miss-Wilde-would-you-do-me-the-honor-of-being-my- wife?"
Isabelle's eyes widened as she gasped, partially surprised, partially in horror. "Admiral Hopkins, I-"
Admiral Hopkins, his courage strengthened by finally getting through asking the initial question, interrupted her. "Miss Wilde--no, Isabelle, you would make me the happiest of men if you would give me your hand. You have grown into a beautiful woman, and I would do anything to make you happy."
"Admiral-"
"Edmund," he corrected. "Please."
"Admiral Hopkins," she said firmly. "I am truly flattered by your proposal, but it-"
"I am aware that I am truly not worthy of such a lady, but if you would simply consider, Isabelle. I am willing to wait for an answer."
Isabelle's mind was racing. She couldn't marry the Admiral; she was secretly promised to another. But this other had not shown his face in three years, and his only proof of existence was silks and jewelry from distant locales with loving little notes he'd scrawled onto scraps of paper. She had spent three years waiting for Jack. What if he never returned? What if she ended up an old maid, waiting for the ship that never returned?
"Very well, Admiral Hopkins. I will answer your proposal in a week." Jack had one week to return to her arms.
Within three days time, Miss Isabelle Wilde, at the age of 21, was the future Mrs. Edmund Hopkins.
**End of Flashback**
Suddenly, the large French doors to the parlor burst open, bringing Isabelle from her reverie. A handsome 6 year-old boy ran in as fast as his chubby legs would carry him, followed by a delicate beauty of a 5 year-old girl, trying to run and be proper at the same time. Bringing up the rear was their nanny, carrying a 2 year-old boy.
"Mama!!" the eldest boy cried out in excitement and he rushed to her knee. "There's a pirate ship docking!"
"Now, Master Christopher," the servant chided as she handed the child in her arms to Isabelle. "What did I telling you? You don't know what that ship is for," she said continued.
"It is, though, Mary!," the girl chimed in. "It's got black sails and every thing!" she informed Isabelle.
Isabelle felt her heart stop beating. "What?"
Christopher, who was getting more and more excited by the second, volunteered, "Black sails, Mama! I'll bet you anything it's a pirate ship! Pirates in Nassau!" He began waving an arm as if he were sword fighting. "I wanna be a pirate."
"Hush, Christopher," Isabelle warned as she quickly abdicated her seat on the sofa with her youngest son in her arms. "You don't know what you're talking about." She looked at the window and there it stood. A huge ship with impressively ominous black sails. Isabelle suddenly felt faint and stumbled back to the sofa. "Mary, some water, please," she said faintly.
After eleven long years. The Black Pearl had returned to Nassau.
As he sat in his captain's quarters on his ship, the legendary Black Pearl, in a drunken stupor after a long night of debauchery on the Isle of Tortuga, he tried to piece together why he had suddenly felt the need for true companionship and, dare he even consider, love. There was a feeling he had not felt in a long time growing in the pit of his stomach. Not anger, not sadness, not jealousy, not even the likely nausea from far too much rum, even for him. Right before passing out however, he realized what it was. Regret.
He slept the fitful sleep of someone with too much on their mind that night, but when he woke up the next morning, despite feeling still tired and hung over, things seemed much clearer. "Boys," he announced to his crew once he had the tolerance to light to step out on deck, "prepare the sails. We're headed for Nassau."
As the legendary pirate ship made its way into Nassau, a young woman of a very different station in life by the name of Mrs. Isabelle Hopkins sat in her home at the British port of Nassau, gazing out the window and watching boats float at the docks. The thought occurred to her that she had not watched for ships sailing in in ages, and even longer had it been since she had watched for one specific ship, one with black sails. She had spent three years hoping to see the Black Pearl sail to Nassau, and eight more trying to forget that it had ever existed.
Yet, despite the long passage of time, it felt like just yesterday she had given up on the ship and the man on it she had waited so long for. As she left the window to sit on her sofa, she began to remember, and the memory, and the pain, was still fresh.
***Flashback***
"Miss Wilde, may I have a word? In private?" Admiral Edmund Hopkins asked as he touched Isabelle's elbow.
Isabelle sighed in relief, an uncommon response to the man from her. Her father, a well-off merchant of Nassau, pushed her into society with the Admiral, a man at least 20 years her senior, as often as possible in hopes of a match between the two. A match that Isabella would never have thought of, even in her worst nightmares.
"Of course," she replied graciously. To herself, she thought, "Dear, Admiral Hopkins. As awkward as he is, he must have sensed my annoyance at the gaggle of silly people surrounding me. God bless him." For a young lady of standing in the port community of Nassau in the British colony of the Bahamas, she most despised such gatherings, filled with pompous colonels and their wives, who were even more full of the ridiculous.
Admiral Hopkins gently led her into a drawing room adjoining the large dining hall. The poor man quite looked more uncomfortable than usual as he shut the door. "Um, Miss Wilde, there is a very important.eh.well, that is to say that.er.I was wondering if.it there was any chance at all of.what I mean to say is-" His hands clenched in frustration. "Damn it all." he muttered. Finally, in the fastest speech Isabelle had ever heard him utter, he said, "Miss-Wilde-would-you-do-me-the-honor-of-being-my- wife?"
Isabelle's eyes widened as she gasped, partially surprised, partially in horror. "Admiral Hopkins, I-"
Admiral Hopkins, his courage strengthened by finally getting through asking the initial question, interrupted her. "Miss Wilde--no, Isabelle, you would make me the happiest of men if you would give me your hand. You have grown into a beautiful woman, and I would do anything to make you happy."
"Admiral-"
"Edmund," he corrected. "Please."
"Admiral Hopkins," she said firmly. "I am truly flattered by your proposal, but it-"
"I am aware that I am truly not worthy of such a lady, but if you would simply consider, Isabelle. I am willing to wait for an answer."
Isabelle's mind was racing. She couldn't marry the Admiral; she was secretly promised to another. But this other had not shown his face in three years, and his only proof of existence was silks and jewelry from distant locales with loving little notes he'd scrawled onto scraps of paper. She had spent three years waiting for Jack. What if he never returned? What if she ended up an old maid, waiting for the ship that never returned?
"Very well, Admiral Hopkins. I will answer your proposal in a week." Jack had one week to return to her arms.
Within three days time, Miss Isabelle Wilde, at the age of 21, was the future Mrs. Edmund Hopkins.
**End of Flashback**
Suddenly, the large French doors to the parlor burst open, bringing Isabelle from her reverie. A handsome 6 year-old boy ran in as fast as his chubby legs would carry him, followed by a delicate beauty of a 5 year-old girl, trying to run and be proper at the same time. Bringing up the rear was their nanny, carrying a 2 year-old boy.
"Mama!!" the eldest boy cried out in excitement and he rushed to her knee. "There's a pirate ship docking!"
"Now, Master Christopher," the servant chided as she handed the child in her arms to Isabelle. "What did I telling you? You don't know what that ship is for," she said continued.
"It is, though, Mary!," the girl chimed in. "It's got black sails and every thing!" she informed Isabelle.
Isabelle felt her heart stop beating. "What?"
Christopher, who was getting more and more excited by the second, volunteered, "Black sails, Mama! I'll bet you anything it's a pirate ship! Pirates in Nassau!" He began waving an arm as if he were sword fighting. "I wanna be a pirate."
"Hush, Christopher," Isabelle warned as she quickly abdicated her seat on the sofa with her youngest son in her arms. "You don't know what you're talking about." She looked at the window and there it stood. A huge ship with impressively ominous black sails. Isabelle suddenly felt faint and stumbled back to the sofa. "Mary, some water, please," she said faintly.
After eleven long years. The Black Pearl had returned to Nassau.