Willy stood in the bow of the Pearl, relishing the feel of the salt spray on his face. Squinting into the sun, he could just barely make out land ahead. They would reach the harbor just after sunset, the best time, according to Captain Jack, to be in Tortuga. Willy was excited. He had learned from the crew that Tortuga, aside from being the Spanish for turtle, was a bustling pirate town. He couldn't wait for his first real foray into the life of a pirate.
Willy had been on the Pearl only one day and he was already hungry. Pirates, he had learned, don't eat a whole lot on board ship. Apparently they save up for when they go looting. For a young boy accustomed to two good meals and two teatimes a day, this was quite an adjustment. He was adapting, though. Besides, he thought. What's a little food next to all this adventure? That the adventure had yet to appear was of little concern to him. He was sure it would soon.
They docked in Tortuga shortly after sunset, just as Captain Jack had predicted. Hurrying ashore with the rest of the crew, Willy followed them to The Faithful Bride. The pub was dark and smoky and very, very crowded. Willy was being jostled to and fro as he tried to follow the crew to a table. An enormously buxom woman approached him and batted her eyelashes. Unsure of her intent, Willy smiled politely and tried to continue on his way. She pushed closer, batting furiously and wiggling her hips. Nine-year-old Willy wondered if maybe something was wrong with her. She persisted, now tugging her dress off one shoulder. Alarmed, Willy struggled desperately to get away but the crowd was too thick. He felt a hand grab his arm. At first frightened, he realized the hand was dragging him away from the strange woman and relaxed. Turning to thank his rescuer, he saw it was Mr. Cotton.
"Scrawk! Here there be dragons! Scrawk!" Cotton's parrot screeched.
"Thanks, Cotton." Willy breathed, relieved. Cotton just nodded curtly and strode off. Willy glanced around and finally saw the crew seated at a table, drinking liberally and laughing loudly. He joined them and asked, somewhat hesitantly, if he could have a drink. They roared with laughter and Willy found his ears heating with anger and humiliation. Just then, however, Gibbs stepped in.
"Boy wants a drink, let's give 'im a drink! Earned it, he has. Why he's almost a man, and a man needs his rum!" The crew roared again, this time in agreement. Jostling each other so as to be the first to give Willy a flagon, they passed up a huge pitcher of rum. Willy took it eagerly and turned it bottom up. Gulping quickly, it took a second before he actually tasted the liquid. Shocked by the bitter taste, he spewed a stream of rum across the table to the great amusement of the crew.
Embarrassed, Willy turned and ran out the door. Wanting to be alone for a bit, he snuck off to find a deserted alley. Rounding a corner he heard a shot and saw a body fall off a nearby balcony. Shocked and frightened, he ran back toward the harbor. He would simply wait on the Pearl. Running as fast as he could, he looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was following him. Smack! He ran straight into a very solid someone and fell on his rear. Looking up cautiously, hoping pirates didn't shoot people for running into them, he was relieved beyond measure to recognize Captain Jack. Looking very unsteady, Jack squinted at Willy, as if he couldn't quite see clearly.
"You look familiar, have I threatened you before?" he slurred. Recognizing that Jack was dead drunk, Willy answered uncertainly.
"It's me, Captain Jack. Willy Turner."
"Turner, eh? Wouldn't be related to old Bootstrap now, would you?"
"Um…" Willy was unsure of how to answer. Not that it really mattered, he was sure Captain Jack would not remember this in the morning. He sidestepped Jack and continued on his way. He spent the rest of the night dozing fitfully on the Pearl.