Dear future reader,
If you read my former letter, you know that I ran away from home, a fugitive, after killing my older brother. I have been a fugitive for four years now, living on the streets of Port Royal and other cities and towns surrounding it. I use what little money I can find or earn to buy food. If I have no money, I am forced to steal food so I can eat. My clothes are always torn and dirty, and I am forced to steal new ones from time to time.
My life has taken an interesting turn within the past day. I have joined a pirate ship. I was walking along the docks, and stopped to examine a pirate ship called the Black Pearl, when I met a member of the ship's crew and he asked me if I was looking for work. I am always looking for work, and considering that joining up with a pirate crew might be a good way to keep my father from finding me, I accepted the man's offer, joining the pirate ship under the name Sam West.
The Captain, I must say, is a strange man. He has long dark hair complete with dreadlocks and full of beads. He wears a red bandana around his head, and sometimes a battered dirty three-cornered hat. He doesn't look like any pirate captain I would imagine. He walks oddly, almost like he's half-drunk all the time. Talks that way, too, except when he's giving orders. He may be odd, but the crew members tell me he's the best captain in the entire ocean.
I've met a few members of the crew. There is a man called Will Turner who treats me real nicely, and I hear that he is good with a sword. I like him a lot, or at least what I have seen of him. I have only been on this ship for a day. The man, Gibbs, who recruited me seems odd too. I hear he is somewhat superstitious, and from what I have seen of him, he likes to order people around.
There is one member of the crew who is of particular interest to me, him being my cabin mate. His name is Johnny Fowler, but that is about all I know about him. He doesn't talk much, but when he does, his accent is Irish. Mostly he keeps his hat low over his face and keeps to himself. Strange fellow, not very friendly. Maybe he too is trying to make his profile scarce. I hope he will be more amiable as time goes on, though. It will be torture to share that cramped cabin with a man who never speaks.
Most interesting of all, though, is the presence of my old friend, Lieutenant James Norrington. Well, now I guess his proper rank is Commodore, or so it would be if he were still part of the navy. I was surprised to see him there, knowing his past hatred for any form of pirates and piracy. When I asked him about it, he gave me no explanation. I suppose it is only fair, though, as I gave him no explanation of my sudden appearance. I was not eager to tell him of my awful deed. He would despise me if only he knew what I was really like.
Being a pirate is not that bad, from what I've seen of it so far. Do a little mopping and scrubbing, but free passage to anywhere. The only thing that causes me pain is the intense heat. I am used to the cool temperatures of York, not the sweltering, scorching humidity of the Caribbean. I try to ignore it, as the other crew members would think me weak if I were to be conquered by a little heat, but I must admit I tire a lot faster out here in the sun, and I often find myself longing to jump overboard and relieve myself of the awful heat in the cool, refreshing water.
On the whole, though, my situation has improved greatly since joining the crew of the Black Pearl. I am now guarunteed three meals a day, and safe passage away from anyone who knows my true name.
