Disclaimer – Disney owns the entire franchise of Pirates of the Caribbean.

A short bit on Captain Jack Sparrow's walk…

First Steps

"Why is it that our captain Jack Sparrow walks as if he were drunk all the time?" the newly elected pirate queen Elizabeth Swann asked Mister Gibbs as they observed the one and only Captain Jack Sparrow swagger along the pier of the pirate hideout Shipwreck Island partaking in the myriad preparations before the big sea battle. The pirate did have an unmistakable gait which could not possibly be put down to sea legs alone. "Possibly because de capt'n is drunk all de time," Mister Gibbs remarked. He was certain his missing stash of rum had something to do with Jack's current swagger.

"No, it is because he is a faggot…" Barbossa could not resist a snipe at his rival for the command of the Black Pearl. "What does firewood gotta do with Jack Sparrow?" Ragetti asked. "He doesn't mean that kinda faggot…" Pintel exclaimed. He accidently dropped the cannonball he was holding over the side. The cannonball crashed with devastating effect through the deck of a Turkish galley, whose decks were much lower than the Black Pearl's.

The outraged Turkish captain heartily cursed Barbossa for his crew's mishap. Packed as they were in the confines of Shipwreck Bay, they had to watch out for other pirates lest they end up running over the smaller vessels. Pintel and Ragetti continued arguing among themselves while loose cannonballs started rolling around the deck unheeded.

"Will ye two morons cut it out?" Barbossa snapped at the quarrelsome pair. "Start loading those cannonballs before I keelhaul ya!"

Captain Teague chuckled and tuned his guitar. He knew the real reason why Jack Sparrow walks the way he does…

"Happy Birthday tooo yoouuu…" Granny Grace crooned. The Misty Lady's crew winced at their sea cook's off-key singing. The captain dandled his young son on his lap. Jack has learnt to sit up by himself and was babbling baby-talk non-stop. He seemed to understand some words like 'milk' or 'Da', but it might just be wishful thinking on the part of the proud father. For the lad's first birthday, the sea cook had baked a cake from cornmeal and dried fruits. The ceramic plate cracked when she dropped the rock-like cake onto it. Teague honestly wondered if the lump was even edible.

"Cut the cake for wee Jackie, Captain," the sea cook urged and handed the knife, a machete, to Teague. The captain slammed the blade onto the cake with little effect.

Little Jack picked up a piece of the cake which had chipped off the main block. He placed the piece into his mouth, scrunched up his face in disgust and spat it out, confirming everyone's suspicions about the cake. Faced with a choice of food poisoning and a stomach upset and riling Granny Grace O'Nelly, it was like being caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. They were about to earn a reprieve.

"Captain!" Honest Tom came running in suddenly. He had been among the lucky few assigned to deck duty while the majority of the crew celebrated Jack's first birthday below decks.

"What's it?" Teague asked. The first mate was chalky pale. The captain placed his son on the floorboards. Jack immediately tried to stand up with the help of a stool. He had been trying to stand with some success. He would hover there for a second or two before falling on his behind. So Teague paid him no heed when Jack managed to pull himself up and balance on the balls of his tiny feet,

"Storm squall, Captain. Heading our way fast. Looks like a bloody hurricane!" Honest Tom replied.

"All men on deck! To yer stations!" the captain shouted. They were in open waters and far from any coves where they could shelter. If they could not outsail it, they would have to ride it out. Teague hurried on deck, leaving his son unattended in the cabin.

It was a big one, the largest storm squall Teague had ever seen in his many years at sea. Honest Tom had not lied nor exaggerated the seriousness of their situation.

"Lower the top-sails! Fasten the cannons tight!" Men scrambled to obey their captain's commands. They had to work together in order to survive.

The storm was upon them with the fury of a hurricane. The Misty Lady was lashed by both rain and wind and battered by waves. The deck was constantly washed by seawater and several cannons broke free of their moorings despite being held in place with chains. Sails tore and rigging snapped under the relentless pounding. Thunder roared and lightning flashed all round as the hapless vessel was caught in the full fury of the hurricane.

Abandoned inside the captain's cabin, young Jack staggered to his feet for the umpteenth time. Most of the furniture in the cabin was bolted firmly to the floor. Jack pulled himself up with the help of his stool. He could hear his da shouting outside. Even his grandmother had gone on deck to help. He wanted to be outside with his da. The cabin door had burst open with the violent lurching of the ship and beckoned to the boy. With the floor under his unsteady feet pitching and lurching like a bucking bronco, Jack took his first baby steps.

If at first you don't succeed, try, try and try again… Jack determinedly set his mind to walking on his own two feet out on deck. Crawling on all fours was a lot faster, but da and the others did not crawl. They walked on their feet. Jack figured that if he were to be as big and strong as his da, he better start walking too. Climbing up the three stairs to the deck proper was a tad tricky though but Jack decided he was not going to crawl.

The storm finally broke and Captain Teague was able to take stock of the damage wrought. It was sheer good luck that there were no men lost or severely injured in the chaos. There were however, bruises, minor cuts and strained muscles.

"Hey, Teague, I pulled a muscle catching that cannon. Could ye go git de ointment ye were using for old Morsie de last time?" Granny Grace hollered as she massaged her massive shoulder.

"Sure…" Teague knew better than to argue with Grace O'Nelly. The weary captain stepped into his cabin and gaped at the sight before him. "Hey, Granny Grace, come look at this!"

Wee Jack was staggering and swaying clumsily but definitely walking. The gait was highly unsteady but not in the manner of a young child. It was the worst case of sea legs ever witnessed by the captain and his crew. However, Teague had to admit that Jackie boy had a certain grace in his movements as he swayed and rocked in harmony with the rolling of the ship. Jack swayed as he walked up to his da and hugged Teague's leg.

"Well done, Jackie boy. Ye have taken yer first steps towards being a full pirate…" Captain Teague hugged his son with pride. "Now ye have the sea legs, we'll hafta to see about those land legs…"

That odd gait remained with Jack even ashore and through his growing years. In adulthood, it was gradually refined to that cocky swagger. By now, it was the patented Jack Sparrow walk, unique to the one and only Jack Sparrow.

"It comes from taking your first steps on a pitching ship in the midst of the worst storm at sea in a century," Captain Teague said as he walked off to his hammock. He left the crew and other pirates wondering at his words. He was way too old for a full sea battle and needed to catch some shut-eye before the big event.