A boat with my name on it - by Cunien

Disclaimer: Jack Sparrow belongs to no man but himself! Anamaria belongs to no man either - not even Jack. And the Jolly Mon belongs to Anamaria. Not Jack.

Warning: here be mild cockney swearing as befits a rascal like Jack Sparrow

Jack's poem/song is from a poem that I found the other day in one of my Grandparent's books - it is called The Sea Gypsy' by Richard Hovey, and I hope he doesn't mind that I rewrote it and added another verse to stick on the end!

You're in luck! This was going to be the last chapter - but then Jack remembered about poor old Taffy - and of course you all want to know more about him don't you?!? So there's probably one, maybe more to come.
But even then this isn't the last you've heard of Captain Cunien - Jack Sparrow has a whole lifetime of tales to tell!
(Well, that's if I don't get too distracted with life and Duncan from Monarch of the Glen tumbling down hills in his kilt in the new series. hmm...)

Give me a present of a review? It's my birthday tomorrow!

Chapter 7 - Hull down in the trail of rapture

Chivalrous.
Yes, that's it. I like that.

And it was that too, because they didn't bother Anamaria for money again, and the Jolly Mon was safe.
Do you know how this came about?

Because the damned bilge rat bastards took my gold.
All of it.

I suppose it's the price you pay for being a hero.

So anyway, when I come round I'm in a bed - a strange feeling I can tell you.
I haven't slept in a real bed for years.

Then it got me to wondering who's bed it was.

I rasped, and then changed my mind -

A worried face loomed over me. I realised it was Anamaria's bed, which made me smile.

But not for long because it hurt like hell and made my nose bleed again.

I reached up and touched the swollen mess.

My face. My beautiful, beautiful face. I croaked
I think I was delirious.

Anamaria sat down heavily on the bed. She seemed to have thought that I was going to die. Ha. Captain Jack Sparrow ain't that easy to kill luv!
She cursed me using language that would have made my mother blush, had she not been such a swearing strumpet herself.

So, who were those very big men then eh? I asked.
She glared at me and told me to mind my own business, but after a few minutes of silence she spoke up.

Kennedy, silly Irish bastard. Him and his crew attacked the ship that...that we were sailing over to the Caribbean on.

From where? I was confused.

From Africa you fool! When I was a child, they came and took everyone in my village to work in the sugar plantations.

She seemed embarrassed, though I couldn't fathom why. It had never occurred to me that she wasn't native to the Spanish Main. I hadn't really thought about it to be honest.

I asked.

No - we begged them to shackle us and shove us in a stinking hold to sail across the ocean for a life of hardship. You idiot.

Kennedy took the ship off the coast of Brazil, and now he seems to think I owe him.

And the Jolly Mon?

Sold her to me, for a hefty price. The deal was done, and 2 weeks later he comes back asking for more money. She scowled darkly, and I found myself pitying Kennedy, the man who had just beaten me to within and inch of my life. I knew if Anamaria ever got the chance to follow through on that scowl she wouldn't hesitate.

I tried to heave myself up on my elbows. I didn't like lying down like this with Anamaria towering over me. I felt vulnerable.

But my chest felt like a cannonball had gone through it.

I think I may have broken a rib or two. I said, rather weakly I have to admit.

So Anamaria puts her hand on my forehead and pushes me back down onto the bed, which I don't like at all. See when it comes down to it, it's normally me that does the pushing down on to the bed bit. And even when it's the other way round I don't mind so much, because I know in the end it's just playing ain't it?

But this wasn't. She pushed me back down and there was no way in hell I could've got up again. I don't like someone taking charge like that when I know I can't defend myself.

I began to regret some of the rash words I'd said to Anamaria over the past few days.

She started poking my chest, which made me yell. By now I'm feeling about as uncomfortable as I possibly can, and more than a little afraid. I'm not ashamed. There aren't many situations where you could rightly say Captain Jack Sparrow was afraid.

Now me, I've been in battles a-plenty, at sea or on land.
I've been stuck in the middle of the ocean, miles from salvation, with hatred and mutiny in the eyes of my crew. I've watched my ship sail away, shrinking to nothing, hearing the laughter floating back at me as I sit on a godforsaken sand bank in the middle of the ocean.

And I've taken it. Never complained. Never cried or ranted or raved.

I've stood at the gallows, even had the trapdoor pulled from beneath my feet and fallen those few inches, wondering if my neck would snap like a piece of dry kindling or if I'd be slowly strangled.

And even when it looked like old Jack had finally met his end, I felt nothing stronger than a curiosity at what came next.

But here I am, lying in a bed, feeling scared. I can hardly move and there's someone beside me who I don't entirely trust and who has complete and total control over me right now.

And I realise that I'm in my underclothes.

If I'm going to be stripped naked, all I ask is that I'm conscious at the time. That's not unreasonable now, is it ?

So now I'm feeling afraid and self-conscious. Well there's a first time for everything I suppose.

After poking around some more, Anamaria said, Hmm. Well Kennedy and his men are certainly thorough - I don't think they've left you even one intact rib.

And just what were you doing while those thugs were wiping the floor with me, eh? I accused, trying to pull up the sheets to cover a little more of my almost nakedness.

Are you mad!? Let boys be boys says I.

So you just stood there and watched?! I asked incredulously.

Anamaria nodded. Why should I have rushed in? she said in reply.

I don't believe it! If it wasn't for me you wouldn't have had a choice! I yelled.

What do you mean by that? You think you're some white knight rushing in to save the damsel in distress?! I didn't need you to rescue me you know!

I sat up, heedless of the pain, but noticed that as Anamaria was sitting on the bed sheet, pushing myself to an upright position only exposed a bit too much of myself.

Oh swallow that pride before you choke on it woman! I saved your life, you saved mine, and now all is right with the world. I sighed, too exhausted to carry on arguing.

Cover yourself up. Anamaria scowled, and I ripped the sheet from under her to draw it up around my neck.

Happy now? I asked.

You're in my bed, how happy is that supposed to make me? And you're bleeding on my sheets. she pointed out.

Give me some damned rum. I spat, and she shoved the bottle at me angrily.

Half of it was gone. I distinctly remember only taking a sip before. I eyed Anamaria and she looked back at me as if to say, Yeah? What?.

After a quantity or rum, the pain receded to nothing and I stopped feeling vulnerable and self-conscious. That was a momentary slip I assure you. Like I've always said, the human body is a beautiful thing, and mine more than most. I'm not ashamed at all. I just didn't like the fact that I was naked against my will.

Anamaria sat on the floor and watched me drink for a while, scowling, and I gave her the bottle. Have some you grump. She obliged and I smiled. There you go.

After a while, Anamaria fished out another bottle of rum from somewhere, as we were making short work of the first. Well, it didn't take much for me as I was already weak on account of recently being set upon by 5 very big men.

We started talking, and I told her about my sea adventures with the Pearl.

So once we'd careened her right, we got to work cleaning the hull cos there were barnacles and worms all over the shop. And the cabin boy right, is up in the rigging as look out. The problem is, he might as well be bloody blind for all the looking out he can do. He only had one working eye - a wooden ball in the other!

Anamaria laughed

So we hear this Sail ho! right, and sure enough, there's a bloody naval frigate heading towards our little bay, 6 miles off and closing fast, bristling with guns!

What did you do?! she asked eagerly.

Well the men had grumbled like hell, but I'd got them to move the guns up onto the cliffs either side, and some on the beach.



And we sunk her before she'd fired two shots at us!

You sound like a wonderful Captain said Anamaria, taking another swig of rum, So how did it all go wrong?

Went soft didn't I? I said, Or I always was soft. Trust - man's biggest weakness. Never trust no one Anamaria. No one.

I thought this was warning enough, looking back. If that's not a sporting chance I don't know what is.

In telling her the tale of how I lost the Pearl, it suddenly seemed so hilarious we were soon rolling around with laughter, and I got all tangled up in the sheets and fell off the bed.

I blacked out for a few moments, and then Anamaria helped me up and we were soon laughing our heads off once more. My nose had started gushing again when I fell out of bed, and that made us laugh harder.

Bloody hell! I never bloody realised I had so much bloody blood in me! I wheezed.

But after a while, with my nose still spouting blood she had to prop me against the wall and put my head between my legs.

I felt quite sick.

We sat there in silence for while, the drink taking it's toll. But I took another swig anyway, when I finally managed to persuade my hand to bring the bottle up to my lips. I've never known when to stop.

So bring me that horizon... I sighed.
What's that? mumbled Anamaria.

A song.

It's funny ain't it? Sometimes when you're drunk, you'd be hard pressed to remember your name, but the smallest most banal details make it through the haze.

Tell me it? she asked, resting her head on my shoulder. It hurt but I wasn't about to tell her that. It was nice.

I couldn't remember the tune anymore, and even if I had, it was hard enough to talk, let alone sing, so I recited it like a poem.

I am fevered with the sunset
I am fretful with the bay,
For the wander-thirst is on me
And my soul has gone away.

There's a schooner in the offing
With her topsails shot with flame,
And my heart has gone aboard her
With desire I cannot tame.

'ss lovely. she breathed. Is there more?

I must forth again to-morrow!
With the sunset I must dwell,
Hull down in the trail of rapture
In the open ocean swell.

So bring me that horizon,
Bring the sunset forth to me,
I will perish here on land
For my soul is with the sea.

I remember a man singing it to me when I was a lad - could've been my Dad. Dunno. We lived in the middle of the countryside. I couldn't fathom what it meant, til I went away to sea.

Now you know what it means. Anamaria said.

I did, and I knew she did too.
She knew that's why I mourned the loss of my Pearl so, and I knew it was why she was down at the dock every hour of every day with the Jolly Mon.

After a while I thought Anamaria had gone to sleep. My eyes were beginning to close slowly - partly because I was tired and partly because they were beginning to swell.
Being punched in the face will sometimes do that to you.

But just as I was beginning to drift off, I was jolted back. Anamaria's head was shaking and she was gasping for breath.

I thought she was crying which scared me. Crying women is not something I do well. If she wasn't a woman I would just slap her and scream Snap out of it man! into her face. But that ain't gentlemanly behaviour towards a lady, is it?

Not that I could ever be accused of being a gentleman.

But to my immense relief, I realised she was laughing, not crying.

This made me laugh too. My head was spinning and I was hurting all over, but the world seemed the most amusing place right then.

The rudder! she gasped. And the sails! The oars, the centreboard!

I said, trying to urge her on without being too obvious. My head snapped back into a reasonable state of sobriety at this, and my heart began pumping so hard I thought she'd feel it.

I hid them!

says I. Careful now Jack, careful...

And I went to so much trouble - I had to hire a rowboat and everything, to get to the cave you know!

I didn't know there were any caves in Tortuga? I lied. Of course there are bloody caves in Tortuga - there are hundreds! Some no wider than 2 feet, some as big as houses. Some that go so far back into the cliff that you think they'll never end, and some that are barely deep enough to shelter a man.
I didn't know there were any caves in Tortuga?' - what the hell is that!? Couldn't I think of a better lie? I'm ashamed of myself.

But Anamaria was obviously too drunk to notice this massive great whopping give-away.

Ah but you wouldn't know about this one. It's ssecret. she whispered, putting her finger up to her lips in a pantomime hush.

Mile to the east of the harbour a river.. comes down to the ocean, and the cliffs are.. big..big cliffs. she hiccuped.
I urged, putting aside all pretence.

She yawned, barely staying awake now.

That's where they are? In a cave? What does it look like, how big is it? I asked.

Big cave. she said. Can only get to it by boat, next to the dark rocks.

Oh, I think I love you Anamaria.

TBC...

Don't get too excited now Jack/Ana fans - it's a figure or speech! Though I am a firm Jack/Ana campaigner. Just not here.

Khepri - As long as you're laughing *with* me, and not *at* me, eh?

Storm13/Safria - Storm13/Safria - ahh now biology! Jack thoroughly approves of biology - lots of intricate details about the human body - brilliant!

Orcagirl - Thanking you kindly. There will be another one coming after this story is completed too. I think.

Loyal Quartermaster Rat - Yes, and be liberal with the old rum eh luv? I never break a promise, and now I'm famous can I go into restraunts and say Don't you know who I am?! in an imperious tone? Please?

First matey Simply Sara- Thanking you kindly my dear, thanking you kindly. Here's a slightly longer chapter for you! Thanks for reviewing after your review troubles! Persevere!

Bosun Cal - Tacky innuendoes? Yes, I'm sure that one crossed Jack's mind too. In answer to your question - I wonder what Jack would've done regarding Ana had those toughs not shown their ugly mugs?' - he probably would've jumped her himself. But in a nicer way. And he would never have called her a hedge whore'- a strumpet' maybe, but nothing more. Your gift of rum worked - Jack has more tale to tell yet! Thankyou for your kind review, really. You spoil me. (But it really makes my day, my week, my month, especially after a bad day!)
And it's not just when being chivalrous - Jack often forgets to think with his head, opting instead for another, more insistent, body part.