I'm back. Travelling Asia was inspiring- here is the result. Hope you like it.
chapter 9- Pirates of the Asian Seas
At first glance the Asian shores didn't look much different than the places we already knew. There were snow white beaches, palm trees, hills covered with tropical rain forest in the Caribbean too; even the African coast had looked similar except for the dunes of the Namib dessert, and the Sea was blue everywhere. What differed were the towns we passed along our way.
In the Caribbean there wasn't anything authentic anymore since the Spaniards had done a thorough job in proselytising the natives and wiping them out in the progress. All the islands were now inhabited by either Spanish, Dutch, French or English colonists who had founded trading ports that resembled the towns where they had come from, so depending to which island you went you had little Spain, Holland, France or England only in tropical surrounding.
Of course, there was also a significant influence of Europeans in Asia due to the demands for spices, silk and other goods. Though they had come here for trading reasons they sometimes behaved like usurpers instead, trying to impose their own legislation on those who had allowed them to settle here in the first place, trying to proselyte these heathens. And yet they needed them since no fine lord wanted to dirty his delicate fingers with picking pepper or other spices, and they didn't want to weave the silk either- they wanted to make profit.
Fortunately there were still many places that had never seen any European, and those were the places we liked best. For more than a year we sailed the Asian Seas from India to China as if we were explorers, driven by curiosity what we'd discover next, always heading for the next bay, the next port.
We saw women wearing colourful saris in India, temples of weird looking Hindu deities with many arms or elephant heads, and the air was heavy with the scent of spices. That was the face of India we liked but we also got to know the ugly face of it, presented by the East India Trading Company and their most ambitious employee, a certain Sir Charles Beaufort. He was the rising star, about to become the president of the Bombay factory. His aim was to free the seas from pirates and to control all the trading routes.
When we first arrived there, coming from Madagascar, Jack didn't have a reputation as a pirate- at least not in the Asian Seas. Actually we had acted more like explorers and less like pirates lately so there wasn't any reason to fear the authorities- well, at least not as long as Jack managed to stay out of trouble and avoided causing mayhem.
We met Charles Beaufort at the docks only moment after having made berth. His steel-blue eyes scrutinized the Black Pearl all over as well as every man who went ashore. Then he approached me of all people to tell me that Bombay was a decent port and he expected us to behave appropriately- whatever that meant for I surely wasn't the one likely to cause trouble. Jack merely gave him a cold sneer.
Then Beaufort glanced at the Pearl again and actually had the nerve to offer me a cargo of spices for shipment to England. I wasn't overly enthusiastic about his offer and Jack even less.
"Bugger, this is a decent pi"
I cut him off, elbowing him before he could say pirate ship. "What my captain wanted to say is that we're inconsolably sorry for having to disincline yer polite request but we're on an expedition to… um, to make maps of the Asian Seas." I lied bluntly, without even blinking an eye- there were many things I had learned from Jack, and being able to bend the truth a little was one I was particularly proud of.
"Your captain?" Beaufort shot Jack a puzzled glance, estimating him far too young to captain a ship. But then he smiled at him, absent-mindedly licking his lips. "Well you truly have a beautiful ship, Captain…"
"I know," Jack replied matter-of-factly without giving him his name, backing away from those calculative blue eyes still gazing at him until he bumped into me and pulled my arm to drag me away. I wouldn't say he was scared of Beaufort but the fellow definitely made him nervous, otherwise he would have proudly introduced himself as Captain Jack Sparrow.
"So, and you are cartographers?"
"Aye. And we have a very important… um, cartographer's meeting… now," he said, sounding urgent. Nevertheless he took his time to sketch a bow at Beaufort. "So sorry mate, but we gotta scamper."
Although Jack usually felt flattered by those who admired his ship, for the Black Pearl definitely was an extraordinary vessel, he had recognized at once that Beaufort wasn't really into dark ladies and the look he had given him just gave him the spooks. Shuddering he turned to me when we were out of hearing distance.
"My, what a creepy fellow… reminds me of those who- ah, never mind," he shrugged off what he essentially wanted to say and carried on ranting about Beaufort's offer as if it had been an immoral one. "What does he think he is, offering an honest pirate the job of a bloody merchant. Damned, as if I'd ever work for such a… snobbish li'le wanker. He's offending me believing I'd become sort of a respectable merchantman. Are there no decent people in this town? I wouldn't even mind taking on a smuggler's job but I'll definitely never work for this damnable Company!"
Chuckling I wrapped an arm around his shoulder, unable to imagine that Jack Sparrow would ever become a decent guy- he was every inch a bloody scallywag who would never change his ways, and yet I loved him just for being so unwaveringly in his wicked ways. I didn't notice that Beaufort was still watching us from a distance since that very moment a sedan carried by four men passed by and stopped. The curtains covering the passenger inside moved a little and a slender arm waved at us, several golden bracelets sparkling in the sun, jingling, beckoning us to come closer while at the same time a lackey approached us, informing us that Lady Ashanti wanted to have a word with us concerning business affairs.
"Why does everyone in this bloody town think me services are for sale? I'm not purchasable!" Jack snorted indignantly and stepped- despite of the protests of those carrying the sedan- closer to take a look inside, which almost caused a ruckus. Nevertheless, what he saw made him change his mind. "Oh well, maybe I am…"
That's how we met Lady Ashanti, a truly beautiful young lass of only seventeen years but already married and mother of a little son, the heir of a respectable and very successful trading dynasty. She invited us to her house where she introduced us to her husband- a man more than trice her senior, looking like her grandfather, and strangely marked by an incurable disease that had rendered him into a helplessly babbling wreck of a man. She treated him kindly, saw to it that he was well-fed by her servants and addressed him with great respect that was most likely faked since it didn't keep her from flirting shamelessly with Jack. No one was saying it, no one could prove it, but I always believed her husband's poor state was her doing. If so, she had arranged it very cleverly. As long as he was still alive she could not be married again but could run his business the way she wanted it, holding all the strings in her delicate little hands until her son would be old enough to take over. Thus, she was one of Bombay's most important merchants now, whereas as a widow she wouldn't have achieved anything except becoming sati. Maybe that was her way of taking revenge for having been married to an old man she didn't love.
We stayed for the night. I slept alone in a heavenly comfortable bed covered with silken sheets while Jack… um, still had business to discuss with the Lady. The next morning he had a broad smile on his face, mumbling only one word to me: Kamasutra. I didn't know what the heck he was about and what that had to do with us smuggling booze and tobacco to Goa but apparently her Ladyship had twisted him round her little finger that night.
Later he told me about the mysteries of Kamasutra which meant he probably had the screw of his life- which I didn't begrudge him, but we still had a shipload to take to Goa and the East India Trading Company didn't like private traders. When the first East India charter was signed into law and thus a royal monopoly created, all private traders had become outlaws, smugglers. Anyhow, I shrugged off this thought, there was no ship that could match the Black Pearl in speed.
We delivered our cargo in Goa, got decently paid, and headed for the Andaman Sea then, leaving India behind.
-
There were thousand of islands in the Andaman Sea. They seemed to appear out of the mist on the horizon as we sailed along the Siamese coast, shapeless at first but gaining structure and colour the closer we came. Some were not more than a rock that raised out of the sea, steep limestone cliffs towering up a hundred feet in height or more crowned with green of whatever plants could grow on such a rough ground, and yet these rocks seemed to be fertile. Others were rimmed with sandy beaches and covered with lush vegetation, coconut palms and many different fruit-trees, actually there was fruit in abundance. Most of the islands were not inhabited but on some fishermen had settled, and there was an important trading port for tin on Ujong Thalang where also some Europeans lived.
Further south we met the Moken, a tribe of sea nomads who roamed the Andaman Sea on rafts or outrigger boats, going fishing and pirating for their living. After having settled the first problems between us- like showing them our colours and making unmistakably clear that we were not easy prey- we got on pretty well, so we sailed with them for a while. Those were easy days; we drifted to wherever the current would take us and made berth in calm bays. There was a maze of islands, coves or caves where we could hide from the unfriendly eyes of the East India Company, and every day our table was set widely with seafood, rice and fresh fruit. In the evenings Jack and I would lie on the afterdeck, listening to the exotic melodies of their music, the sky above sparkling with stars. We understood their songs if not by word but by heart, for after all the differences between us we came to recognize that we were very much alike. Like them, we were Chao 'le, people of the sea, for the sea was in our blood and our ship was our home, only that the Pearl was a castle, a fortress compared to their small boats. And like them, we were restless always longing for new horizons to discover, so one day we left our new found friends and continued our voyage.
We sailed to Malacca, named after the tree under which- according to legends- a prince had rested while hunting when one of his dogs had annoyed a white mouse deer but the deer had annoyed it in return by kicking it into the river. Strangely the prince had considered this a good omen to found his kingdom at this place, and in the end he was right since Malacca became a prospering trading port that attracted merchants from China, Siam, India, Persia, Arabia… of course the Europeans took wind of it and wanted their share too, so first the Portuguese conquered Malacca, pissing off everyone with their crusading spirit, and then the Dutch took it from them, also failing to become overly popular with the 'Straits-people'. Their one-sided trading arrangements and restrictions kept many merchants away while imposing heavy taxes was the best way to attract smugglers who knew of ways to avoid these taxes. The Malay sultans had been a tad more clever, actually.
Nevertheless, Malacca was still fun since it was a melting pot of all different cultures and religions, where you could find a Hindu shrine, a mosque and a Buddhist temple all in one road. And last but not least, there was the famous Strait of Malacca- ever since the early days of maritime trade the favourite playground for pirates. So many vessels sailed these waters that sometimes it was hard to decide which one to seize and plunder.
We had a great time amusing and raiding merchants, and were just on our way to Singapore to spend our booty, when we heard a distant thundering. Jack looked up to a cloudless blue sky before he changed our course, barking orders to trim the sails. Above us yards creaked as they were adjusted to our new course and black canvas clattered in the wind. Swells of spray flew up from the Pearl's bow as she headed for something only Jack could see, but after a while all of us spotted clouds of smoke billowing just ahead of us.
It had become a nasty habit of merchantmen to hire an armed escort when sailing the Strait of Malacca, and apparently a bunch of local pirates had run into a trap with their boats, two small junks plus a couple of one masted launches. The warship, a frigate running the flag of the East India Company, didn't scruple to fire at vessels that were no match for her since only the two junks had some low-range cannons. It would be just a matter of time until the pirates were defeated, sent to the dark oblivion of Davy Jones' locker.
Although Jack wasn't much into unnecessary bloodshed- he liked to avoid armed confrontations and rather relied on his wits- but when he saw helpless fellow pirates being attacked by a frigate he didn't hesitate to interfere.
"Let's amuse them a bit," he hissed through clenched teeth, then he bellowed. "Mr Matthews, run up our colours please! Gunners, stand by to give 'em a warning shot."
Almost on collision course the Pearl approached the frigate- Bombay Sapphire I read on her escutcheon- firing her bow chasers. Water splashed up ahead of Bombay's bow but aboard the warship they were still too busy bombing little boats to pieces to take notice of us.
Jack was annoyed; he left the helm to a burly lad called Duncan to direct the attack and I stood by to respond instantly when he called or raised his arm to signal. The entire working deck was on alert now, learning why the capt'n had ran us through all those drills he liked to repeat on a regularly basis.
Compared to a Royal Navy warship or even a merchant vessel, the standards aboard the Pearl were lax. There was no classification, no distinction between officers, midshipmen or simple tars but an equal share for everyone and yet everyone knew their position.
"Helm! Hard a' starboard now!"
The Pearl shook and crested a wave when the rudder came around. For a moment she leaned hard over as she turned tightly, sheeting bright spray from her hull. Her timbers shuddered and groaned in protest but eased when the yards above swung into new position.
"Gunners, fire as she bears! Aim at their rigging- mind, we don't wanna sink them, just irritate them!"
"Aye, Capt'n!" Blake responded, grinning broadly.
We were in shooting range now. Late, much too late the crew of Bombay reacted, her captain obviously overtaxed with the change of situation and besides, there wasn't much he could have done anyway. The frigate's sails fluttered uselessly; she had come wind-locked and motionless. Obviously they had expected an easy job by sinking some small pirate vessels but were now confronted with a warship that bared its teeth. Probably it was just like what the pirates must have felt when the frigate had launched upon them like a bird of prey.
While part of her crew scampered to ready their starboard cannons, thunder roared and heavy iron balls punched holes into their sails. Men screamed and wreckage flew as her main mast came down.
Meanwhile, Jack had given new orders to confuse the Bombay completely. The Pearl did a smart come-about through the wind and circled the frigate's stern, then changed tack again to stand between the East India Company vessel and the fleeting pirates. We were so close now that we could see the staring faces aboard, hear their cursing. Jack spotted Charles Beaufort himself among them, raised his hat and waved.
"Ho, Randy Charly! Have a nice day!"
I felt the urgent desire to knock him out. It was not wise to annoy the guy Lady Ashanti had insistently warned him of and it was even less wise to go boasting with knowing Beaufort's secret- the fine gentlemen wasn't called Randy Charly without a reason…
"Hands to the sheets! Trim to the wind!" I barked, eager to get away from here. Fortunately, we had the weather gauge whereas the frigate was still dead in the water, wind-locked and now also crippled. But she still had teeth as the glinting muzzle of her big guns reminded me. Thundering they threw up spray in our wake; only one ball managed to break a yard of our rail.
As soon as our attack had started it ended and we sailed on, heading for the merchant vessel the local pirates had tried to plunder before the frigate had spoiled their plans. Apparently they had recovered from the shock because they tried to beat us to the merchant now. Ungrateful pack! Of course the Pearl was faster than any of their small boats and since we didn't know whether these pirates were merely bold or downright bloodthirsty cutthroats we commandeered the merchant, taking the crew and passengers hostage- just for safety reasons. They weren't very pleased, and we were quite glad to get rid of them in Singapore.
Ah, Singapore, the infamous pirate haven, bustling with all sorts of shady activities, where you could buy or sell everything from smuggler ware to honestly stolen booty. The Chinese merchants living there asked no questions and the local fishermen couldn't care less. There were taverns and brothels everywhere just like in Tortuga but unlike Tortuga there where also bathhouses and massage parlours which again were often part of the brothels. Thus, the strumpets were also a lot cleaner than in Tortuga. Jack, however, was much more fascinated by the fact that they wore simple silk dresses instead of complicated layers of clothing you had to peel them out of before having fun, and especially he loved the lack of corsets. Well, that was Jack and it was little surprise he instantly fell in love with Singapore.
On our second evening there, after having relaxed in one of the bathhouses, we were sitting in our favourite tavern, drinking expensive cheap rum, when suddenly the door burst open and a ragged looking fellow stormed in, fiercely gazing around. Everyone fell silent in awe except for Jack who didn't even look up
"Who's this dark demon of a ship belonging to?" The fellow barked. He was a Chinaman, slant eyed, not overly tall but solid built, with strong biceps that he liked to show for no shirt covered his naked chest. His head was shaven except for a long, braided plait that reached from the back of his head to his hips. In his belt he carried two curved sables plus a pair of pistols. Calloused hands identified him as a seaman, most likely a pirate given his fierce appearance.
"If ye're implying to the most beautiful ship this poor harbour has ever seen, well, the pretty lady's mine." Jack said matter-of-factly although he couldn't hide a certain pride in his voice.
"Ah, and who are you, you funny little geezer?"
"Strange, I was just 'bout to ask ye the same."
"You don't know who I am?"
"If I did would I ask ye then?" Jack asked innocently.
For a long moment they glared at each other like two prized fighting cocks ruffling their feathers, ready to pick a fight, while I prepared myself to prevent that from happening. Then, all of a sudden, the Chinaman laughed out loud and offered Jack his hand.
"Well, you really are a funny little geezer but you amuse me, and besides, I believe thanks are in order…"
"For amusing ye?"
"Blast! It's hard enough having
to admit that I owe you for saving me and my men from ending up as
cannon fodder for the bloody British invaders that are trying to
control our seas, where the ancestors of my ancestors had already
sailed, so please don't make it worse, longnose…"
"Captain."
"What the hell…"
"It's Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"
"Never heard of you before but well, mark that I am Xing-Ill Chen, commander of an old-established pirate fleet. They call me Chen the Dragon."
"Consider it marked, mate… though I do wonder- just a tad, of course- whether that old dragon might have lost its bite, 'cause- don't get me wrong now- it seems to me that running head over heels into a trap like that we had to get ye out of…"
Oh please, shut up now. Don't ye see that ye're driving him up the wall? I thought when Chen cut Jack off by grabbing him at his collar to give him a good shaking. I let it happen because he probably had deserved it but watched the two of them closely to interfere should things get out of control. Fortunately this Chen was a humorous scallywag since he let go of my friend and captain after having hissed something in his ear I couldn't overhear, then he ordered drinks for all.
"A toast to the funny little geezer, this birdie called Captain Jack Sparrow!" He roared as he gulped down his drink, patted Jack's shoulders and took a leave.
This was the first time we made the acquaintance of Xing-Ill Chen, the infamous Chinese pirate, and though we didn't meet him again during our stay in Singapore it wouldn't be the last time we met.
Another interesting- and long-lasting- acquaintance we made was with Mister Wu, a tattoo artist. There were many tattoo shops in Singapore just like in almost every port of this world where sailors could get their name inked into their skin in case they forget it during an excessive shore leave. Well, I already had a couple of tattoos collected on our way from the Caribbean to Asia but unlike Jack, who was quite contended with the one he had, I couldn't get enough. Call it an obsession if you want. Mayhap it was my way of showing that I definitely had broken up with my former life, that of a family man, mayhap I was just like Jack collecting memories, only that he braided them into his hair while I preferred to wear them on my skin.
When I first met Mister Wu he merely arched a disapproving brow at the maritime motifs on my forearms, tsked, and ignored my request of what I wanted him to do. Instead, he told me in Chinese what I would get. Since I didn't speak any Chinese then our discussion was a useless one, nevertheless I stayed and let him have his way for curiosity reasons. The result was a prancing tiger so perfectly done it almost looked alive. Then Mister Wu told me in flawless English that a tiger was what he saw in me, a tiger's heart, and he asked me to come back one day because there was even more that he saw. I thanked him for his effort but wasn't sure whether I really wanted to deliver myself in his hands again. Mind, he truly was a master of his art but his way of persuasion was… um, unusual at least. Anyway, I did come back, and the next time he started to outline the shape of a dragon spread all over my back which took years to finish- but I'm leaping ahead now.
After an extensive stay in Singapore we sailed the Gulf of Siam and up the Menam Chao Praya, the great river. Along its banks throbbed the heart of Siamese life. We passed a fertile plain with rice paddies; people lived in wooden houses on stilts, bartering their goods by boat, excited to see foreigners. We also passed a Dutch factory and settlement called Little Amsterdam where ships from their colonies unloaded their cargo. Strangely, we managed to not get into trouble with the VOC, the Vereinigde Oostindische Compagnie- sort of a rivalling equivalent to the British East India Company.
The Siamese were tolerant people, they had invited other nations to come and trade, allowing them to practice their own religion. But, unlike other Asian countries, Siam was not under any European rule- though there was probably no country that did not turn greedy eyes on the possibility of a monopoly in trade. Unfortunate for them, the Siamese king was a canny one who knew of ways to prevent that from happening.
Then we reached Ayutthaya. Venice of the East it was called for its location on an island where three rivers met, crisscrossed by a maze of channels. From the distance you could see the glittering of more than three hundred golden pagodas of temples which splendour stood in contrast to the simple structure of wooden houses that lines the streets, the scent of incense lingering in the air.
I loved it there. Actually I had come to love Asia in general, it had been an instant fascination. Never before had I met so wonderful, so friendly people with such a serene attitude, who always greeted you with a smile and who liked to laugh. They could laugh about themselves as well as they laughed about others, always cheerful, never cynical. Wherever we went they came to take a look at us, curious like children since most of them had never seen any Europeans… and if they had then certainly never anyone as outlandish as Jack with his felted braids and jingling beads.
I also loved the Buddhist temples and the peaceful atmosphere when you walked in, leaving the heat and everything that troubled you behind. I liked talking to the monks- they were so different than those I knew, and so was their religion which intrigued me though I'd never been an overly religious man. Jack seemed to be interested too for he accompanied me most of the time when I went to see a temple. On the other hand, there were often some monkeys around and he loved watching them. Have you ever seen Jack climbing up the rigging or dangling in the shrouds? Well, there definitely was a certain similarity between them, and the little beasts were damned clever too…
Ah, and let's not forget the Asian women- so beautiful to behold, slender and gracious as they were with their long, dark hair. Until then I had believed I was into blondes like Claire but the Asian women proved me wrong for I constantly seemed to fall in love. Soon I had a girl waiting for me in every port we dropped anchor which amused Jack so much he couldn't stop mocking me about it. I just laughed at him and enjoyed pleasant company without further obligations.
Another thing that amused Jack was my knack for the Asian tongues, the singsong tones and subtle nuances, whereas I had proven to be a total failure when he had tried to teach me some French. He merely shook his head in bewilderment the day he heard me ordering dinner at one of these little hot food stalls at Ayutthaya's night market- a wonderful thing by the way… they opened in dozens at sunset, selling everything that's tasty and spicy, and we tried it all, even fried grasshoppers. Well, Jack would wolf down whatever it was when he was hungry- must had to do with his childhood as street urchin in Tortuga- but I wasn't sure about having roasted insects again…
Life was wonderful. Did I miss my family? No, not really, although I thought about Will occasionally and sent letters to him, but actually my family was the Pearl, her crew and, of course, Jack. Most of all Jack. It was strange, although most people considered Captain Jack Sparrow as a selfish man, too full of himself- alright, that he definitely was- he could be quite the contrary once he had come to like and, even more important, to trust someone. Then he was the best friend you could ever wish for, generous, caring, and a constant source of inspiration. Blame it on the hard and dangerous pirate's life that he had developed what I called some healthy egoism because it surely was better to be safe than sorry.
We were nigh inseparable these days, thick as thieves, sharing almost everything. 'Peas in a pod' I heard the crew saying about us sometimes and yet it wasn't like that either. Though we were much alike we were still different, different personalities with different points of view, and that was damned good because otherwise it would have been dead boring. I'd never want to miss the opportunity of having a witty, inspiring, sometimes even heated discussion with Jack. We could debate for hours and in the end agree to disagree, and that was probably the best thing about my friendship with him- he never tried to change me or my point of view; he respected me just the way I was.
We sailed all along the Asian shores, passing sandy beaches, fishing villages, bizarrely formed limestone cliffs, offshore islets, mangrove forests, and trading ports. We were on the way to China although the Chinamen seemed to be everywhere, having established merchant bases long before the first European had ever come to discover the variety of possibilities the Asian market had to offer, ranging from exotic spices over tea and silk to a vast amount of mineral resources like tin.
We saw many interesting places and met a lot of interesting people, but the most impressive thing I got to see on our voyage was the Great Wall of China. I had only mentioned it once, a long time ago, and yet Jack had not forgotten about it. Though most of it was too far inland for his liking he had found out that the eastern end of the wall ran straight into the Bohai Sea, an inner gulf of the Yellow Sea, and therefore able to be reached by ship, so he had decided to surprise me with a spectacular view. Keeping things secret he woke me one morning to watch the sun rise over what was called the Old Dragon's Head. Fascinated I stared at the glittering spray of waves crashing against a huge and ancient stone wall, overviewed by the shadow of a watchtower. Then Jack bribed some soldiers with plundered English silver to let us take a walk on the wall, all the way from the sea to the Shanhaiguan Pass, also known as the First Pass under Heaven by the Chinese. It definitely was an unforgettable experience.
I would have loved to go on but I knew that Jack would feel uncomfortable when being away from the sea for too long, and, of course, there was also the crew to be considered. It was about time to do some honest pirating again for they wanted to see something more shiny than old stone walls, the chedis of temples or the saffron garb of a Buddhist monk. So we decided to return to Singapore.
A fresh, steady wind granted perfect sailing weather; the sails were all trimmed, canvas drumming, shrouds singing, timbers humming as the Pearl crested the waves, fountains of spray glittering at her bow. Alas, the good weather didn't last forever- it never did at sea. Dark clouds came up, bringing rain. Soon it became evident that this was not going to be the typical Asian shower, heavy but short and warm. I looked at Jack, who was frowning, and I knew that it would be really nasty.
"Secure the hatches! Reef the main sails!" He turned to me and asked me to take over the helm so that he could take a look at his charts in order to find us a safe place to sit out the upcoming storm.
The Pearl's sound changed from singing to groaning as the wind increased, rattling her rigging. Nevertheless, it didn't turn out as bad as Jack had expected- or perhaps he had instinctively altered the course so that the gale did not hit us in all its extreme because in the end all that happened was the unfortunate loss of a few barrels of drinking water. One might think now that pirates didn't need water anyway since all they ever drank was rum, but that wasn't true. You can't sail a ship completely drunk; you need a clear head if you have to climb up the shrouds, furling or unfurling the sails, because otherwise you'll soon find yourself flat on the planks with a broken neck. Life at sea was rough, no doubt about it and no matter how much I had come to like it.
The next port to get our much needed supplies was Macao, originally a Chinese settlement but like so many others situated at important trading routes it was governed by Europeans now- or, to be more precisely, by the Portuguese… bloody catholic, crusading folks they were, and I prayed that Jack wouldn't land us in trouble there.
Well, he didn't- instead it was Johnny for a change.
Apparently the lad had taken something from a market stall without bothering to pay for it. Nothing's wrong with that if you did it smartly and do not get caught in the act, but dear Johnny had failed to remember that lesson. At once everybody called 'hold the thief' and what did the stupid boy do? Right, he came running straight to me, seeking protection. I cursed him silently as I opened my arms wide and grinned at his pursuers. Damned! Where was Jack when I needed him?
Jack had left the tiresome matter of organising supplies to his trustworthy first mate and taken a stroll though Macao, feeling itchy and desperately in need for a good, quick shack with a pretty lass. He had gotten what he wanted, had drunken a few mugs of beer while being in the market, when he suddenly bumped into someone he had last expected here. Blonde, steel-blue eyes, very British looking.
"Well, well, if that is not the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow… pleased to meet you, Jack."
Jack winced at the sound of Beaufort's voice, definitely not pleased to meet him. Faking a smile he backed away from him but didn't get far. Beaufort had cornered him in a dead end alley.
"Easy, Jack..."
"Captain, it's Captain Jack Sparrow."
"Of course, Captain. Now don't worry, I'm not here to arrest you…"
Jack chuckled since that was mighty unlikely anyway. First, they were in a Portuguese port where the British East India Company had no authority, second, Randy Charly was here on his own, and third, you needed more than one man to catch Captain Jack Sparrow. He didn't fear the agent but felt kind of uncomfortable in his presence.
"…actually, I don't even bear a grudge against you although you gave me every reason when you almost sank my ship. You offended me."
"Sorry mate, bad habit of mine and unfortunately unchangeable. Ye could also say it's in me nature." Jack quipped as he tried to push past Beaufort, who quickly blocked his way.
"Not so hasty. I admire a sailor with such terrific skills like yours. We could reach an agreement that is suitable for both of us if you were a little more… um, obliging." Beaufort leaned closer to Jack- men smelling like a lavender field were highly suspicious to him, and he felt more and more uncomfortable. The fellow made him nervous.
"I like you, Jack."
Exactly that was what Jack had feared all the time, given Randy Charly's reputation and the way he looked at him; it was the same look he would give a strumpet he wanted to screw.
"I feel flattered."
"I want you."
Beaufort stared at him as if he was something delicious, like a forbidden fruit, but Jack preferred not to be devoured. However, it wasn't wise to offend him or turn him down in a rude way because there might come a moment when he could make use of Beaufort's obvious affection.
"Now, about the wanting part- I know that I'm nigh irresistible but unfortunately my reputation and yer reputation don't seem to coincide in this matter, which means that I have to decline yer most humble request…"
"It wasn't a request," Beaufort cut him off, "It was a demand. And I'm used to getting what I want."
"Sounds familiar to me, mate." Suddenly the sounds of a tumult at the market square made them both turn around. "What's going on there?"
"I," Charles Beaufort broke off, cursing silently when he noticed that the handsome young pirate captain had just escaped him, slipping through his arms. Very smart. Although he usually preferred younger pets he nevertheless liked them smart, and Jack Sparrow was very enamouring in the way he played the odd cat and mouse game with him, playing hard to get. But he would get him in the end. Until then he would have to still his dark desire elsewhere while lusting for his exquisite, exotic pirate.
"Sorry, Randy Charly- couldn't resist to resist ye. Maybe next time." Jack chirped as he disappeared in the crowd of Portuguese soldiers.
"Ye didn't say that," I gasped when Jack told me of his unexpected meeting with Beaufort, "it's like encouraging this bloody wanker to keep going after ye."
"But I did escape him." Jack stressed cheerfully- way too cheerful for a man sitting behind the iron bars of a Portuguese prison.
"Escape? By ending up in a goddamn dungeon with the prospect of swinging at the gallows come morrow?" I pointed at the walls around us and snapped, "How weird is that?"
What had happened? Jack had arrived just in time to get arrested with me, offering no resistance since that seemed to have been part of his brilliant plan in escaping Beaufort only that that would take us straight to the gallows. I could almost feel the noose around my neck tightening while he was absolutely careless, cocksure and cheerful. Oh- by the way- little Johnny, whom we had to thank this mess we were in now, had managed to flee in the havoc he had caused. Thanks a lot, lad. If I ever got out of here alive I would definitely give him a good beating. But at the moment I'd rather knock Jack's head against the wall. Though I loved him like a brother, and I truly did, there were times he just drove me up the wall.
"Ye seem troubled." Jack noticed.
I chose not to respond.
"Ah, don't pull such a face, Bill. After all, ye should know that I'd never intend to give in to Randy Charly's sick advances, I'm not like that- otherwise I probably would've screwed ye the very first day we met."
"Charming, Jack. That's exactly what I always wanted to hear from ye before having to face the noose," I retorted sarcastically.
"Is it?" The way I glared at him silenced Jack for a moment, a bit puzzled about my heavy reaction. Then he sat down next to me on the narrow wooden bench covered with dirty straw. Damned, I hated him for radiating such warmth and confidence in such a horrible, dark and cold place. I had a serious problem with dungeons after my involuntary stay at the Tower of London, being locked away from the rest of the world for weeks, in solitude with my own thoughts and the question what the hell I had done wrong. At least they had had inevitable reasons to arrest me this time.
"Don't worry," he seemed to read my thoughts, or he just knew me very well, "Come morrow we'll watch the sun rise over a calm blue sea, and that's a promise."
I wanted to believe him if there hadn't been thick brick walls and irons bars between his promise and the reality. On the other hand, Jack wouldn't make a promise he couldn't keep- not in a situation like this, and not to me- so perhaps a little more trust was in order.
"What are ye up to?" I asked him.
"Well, since I'm hardly in the position to do anything at the moment ye have to wait and see."
Great, never heard a more reassuring answer. We sat together in the darkness of this prison and I tried not to become overly paranoid whereas Jack was totally relaxed- as if he had often been in situations like this and knew he'd always get away. Mayhap he believed that there simply was no prison, no cage that could ever keep a sparrow from flying free, I dunno.
A few hours passed. I guess it must have been about midnight when a voice came from the small, barred window right above us.
"Capt'n?"
It was Johnny's voice. I didn't know how he could make amends for what he had landed us into or how he should be able to get us out of here but he seemed to be exactly the one Jack had waited for.
"Aye, we're right here, lad. Did ye get everything ye need?"
As an answer the ends of a rope came dangling down from the window. While Jack knotted them securely around the irons bars I tried to imagine the willowy adolescent pulling hard on the other ends to spring us free but failed. It wouldn't work; he was way too weak. Even a stronger man than little Johnny Silvers would possibly not be able to move these bars.
There were more voices outside the window now, muffled voices, sounding excited… probably more lads of Johnny's age, most likely locals. I also heard something else but couldn't quite tell what it was. Then the ropes tightened, and what I had believed to be not possible came actually true. The irons bars were pulled out of the wall and with them a good part of the wall itself broke off. I stared in disbelief at the hole, seeing two big, grey asses- the backsides of elephants.
"I told ye not to worry, didn't I?" Jack said in a very smart ass way, grinning at me like a madman. If he had arranged this in the short time between escaping Beaufort's advances and getting arrested by the Portuguese it was unfathomable to me just how he had done so since I still couldn't comprehend how Johnny had gotten away unnoticed.
We quickly climbed through the hole in the wall and onto the back of one of the elephants, which took us straight to the harbour, while the local boys had a lot of fun annoying the Portuguese soldiers on watch with the help of the second elephant. Well, after all this appeared to be one of Jack's typical escape plans- totally unpredictable and chaotic.
We left Macao with the intention of never returning, and in the morning we were already far out on the sea, watching the sun rise just like Jack had promised. I made a point to remember and believe in his promises.
Then we headed straight to Singapore, desperately in need for some honest bit of debauchery, just like the usual stuff all sailors longed for when on shore leave. In Singapore we'd get everything we wanted- but sometimes it happens that you get more than you expected, something you hadn't even looked for…