7. Quail Hunting

The Devil, Himself must have sent this fog. It blotted out the moon and the stars, turning the stygian night into a gigantic game of Blindman's Bluff. Moisture condensed from out of the swirling air onto the lines and the reefed sails and then, like an icy rain, it pattered down onto the deck below.

But Jack Sparrow was above all that. He was stationed in the crow's nest, far above the muffled sounds made by the crew and the rhythmic swirl of sea waves on the hull.

There was no chance of seeing the Queen's Quail in this fog, and so he was listening for her. The surrounding shoals and this fog would slow her to a crawl, just like any other ship. Her leadsman would be checking the depths, and whispering the results up to her captain. Her crew would try to work silently, but they'd be blundering around in total darkness. So, if she were near and if Jack listened carefully, he should be able to hear her.

Jack was normally a peaceful man. Only two situations could cause him to fight. First, if an enemy was between Jack and the exit, and then he'd pull steel and battle with all the fury of a cornered rat. Second, if there were money involved.

Captain Barbossa had declared that the volunteer who made it aboard the Queen's Quail and who disabled her would receive five times his normal cut of the booty. Five times! Still, no one would do it. The crew claimed that any such attempt would be suicide, and five times the normal share were of no use to a man who was dead! So Jack had talked the captain up to ten.

Now Jack heard the Quail. Sounds of men working, quietly to be sure, but bumping and thumping just the same. And voices too, quiet and murmuring, but there!

Jack wished he could signal down to the crew below, to tell them to be even more quiet than they were, but the deck was swathed in mists, and he could see no one, and no one could see him.

He took the line he'd prepared and fingered the grabbling hook. He began twirling the hook to gain momentum. He let the length of line grow and the momentum increase. Faster and faster. And then he hurled the hook far out into the darkness towards the sounds. He felt the line flying away and then falling slowly downwards.

But suddenly, the hook caught!

Jack pulled the line taut. He tested it to make sure it held firm. Then he said a quick prayer to any gods who may have been listening and who were still on speaking terms with him, leaped up into the air, and let the line swing him in a long, graceful arc.

A moment later, he shot out of the fog between the two masts of the Queen's Quail, rocketed a few feet above her main deck, passed over her far railing, and disappeared into the fog again. Somewhere in there, he should have let go. But it had all happened so quickly.

He readjusted his grip. In doing so, he brought his fingers down on wet line. They slipped, and he fell. A short scream erupted from his lips, and then he splashed into the sea.

"Man overboard!" came the automatic cry.

"Quiet you idiot!" hissed a voice sounding like Captain Beckett's.

The man whispered back, "Sorry sir, but it sounded like an officer."

"Oh, we sound differently when we scream, do we?"

"No sir. I mean, I know the officer, sir. I just don't know this one's name. I calls them all 'sir' – sir."

"Oh, lower a bloody longboat."

Jack thought for a moment of trying to swim away or to hide in the fog, but blast, he was treading water in the middle of the ruddy sea! Maybe he could find the shore, or maybe he could find the Black Pearl again, but then again, maybe he couldn't. And part of his goal had been to get aboard the Queen's Quail, right? So when he heard the longboat approaching, he shouted, "Here! Over here!"

They found him quickly enough. The men were surprised to find he was no one they'd even seen before, but their rough hands dragged him out of the water, and they rowed him back to the ship.

Captain Beckett was waiting on the main deck when Jack came dripping up the ladder.

"Permission to come aboard, sir?"

Captain Beckett looked at him in shock. "Where did you come from?"

"I cannot tell a lie," replied Jack Sparrow, wiping off a faceful of seawater. "I fell from the moon."