The sun set as we made our way through the windward passage and towards
Hispaniola and up to Tortuga, not more than a lost hulk of rock beyond it's
Northern coast.
I had been set to watch the helm while Sparrow investigated what treasures the hold might yeld. From the sound of the shouts within I guessed he had found the poor fisherman's catch of coins.
"Now I know I'm back in the Caribbean!" Sparrow crowed as he emerged holding three bottles of dark rum. "Will yer 'ave a drink wiv' me, love?"
"No thank you." I replied coldly "And you shouldn't either – I can't control this thing on my own."
"Yer've a lot to learn about Capt'n Jack Sparrow, Cathy, I can steer better drunk than sober." And with that he swept me aside and took over the helm as he uncorked the first bottle with reverence. "We rape, we pillage, we plunder and loot..." I heard him begin to sing as I retreated swiftly to the bow of the cutter.
****
As we ploughed steadily on, I closed my eyes and rested awhile, feeling the brisk wind the spray of the sea on my face. I must have drifted off because when I opened them again the sky was alight with stars. They were beautiful, wheeling through the night, I realised I had never paid them any mind at home, and I stared with the wonder of a newborn baby at those diamonds in the sky, far more beautiful than any of the jewels I had owned. I stood, leaning against the rail, dreamily staring upwards in the silence of the night.
Out of this stillness came a noise that made me jump right out of my skin. It was Sparrow, a rum bottle in hand – leaving the helm and staggering drunkenly towards me.
He stood next to me, leaning easily on the rails and took a deeps swig of his rum. For a while neither of us spoke, Sparrow's eyes seemed locked on the horizon. I looked back up at the sky, and tried to ignore him, but it was no use, I could hear the gentle clanging of the beads that adorned his hair and he radiated a drunken and slightly sour heat that jarred my stillness. Presently he spoke.
"Beautiful, ain't it Cath?" His words were slurred, even more so than usual. I idly wondered how much he had drunk and made no attempt to reply. He continued without looking up, a rambling monologue I think he would have pursued even without my presence. "The sea an' the sky meetin' wiv'out a thing to break the line. There's many'ud call that loneliness, or des'olation but, makes me feel safe. A road wiv'out tolls or bridges or hills or paths – freedom Cath."
"Freedom?" I said, also half to myself. To me, the sea seemed the most restrictive place on earth – nowhere to go apart from one side of the ship to the other, no escape other than those murky depths.
"Freedom." He repeated firmly, and took a swig of rum, as if making a toast. "That's whot a ship is, y'know – not a mast an' a sail an' an keel – that's whot a ship needs. But whot a ship is, whot the Black Pearl really is," Here he paused and looked up – meeting my eye and holding my gaze – I was caught off guard and my eyes seemed locked before I could look away. "I've tried to tell women this a'fore. They don't understand Cath, none o'yer." To my horror, I heard his voice begin to crack and his eyes fill with tears. No man had ever cried in my presence before, no gentleman would have dared. I had grown up almost believing men didn't cry.
"Oh, there Jack." I exclaimed hurriedly. "You mustn't cry. I'm sure I, you mustn't." I searched my head for something to comfort him. "I sure many people don't understand each other. Why when you came out here I was looking at the sky and thinking these stars were about the most beautiful thing in the world. I see them as a great dome over the earth, protecting us and shining down when the sun forsakes us. They are so beautiful, they" I struggled on, Sparrow's tears still fell and he was gazing at me with eyes so dark and piercing and the bore into me in a way that made me quite afraid and exposed. "They, they are like diamonds, some big and some small, some ground to dust and scattered about it's brothers – like that constellation there, do you see? I am sure you feel I am quite mad to think such things and don't understand me one bit. So you mustn't cry, do you see?" I fell quiet, embarrassed, still Sparrow stared but his tears subsided.
"You do understand me." His words made me jump, what did he know about me? What did he think he saw in me? "yer so quiet, and so 'aughty. But fer all o' that you see things fer 'ow they are." He pointed his finger at me, rings flashing in the moonlight as spoke. Then, finally he broke my gaze and turned to face the sea, draping his arm absently round my shoulders as he did so. "Even the luv' o' my life didn't understand me." He muttered.
"Anamaria?" I asked gently.
"Oh no, not her – her." I held my breath – another woman? Mayhap he meant the girl in Tortuga that Anamaria found him with all those years ago? I waited for more, but presently his head fell upon my shoulder and I heard his snores, loud and even, like a saw.
After a while I slipped away, to stand at the helm; though what good I would have done in case of any trouble I didn't know.
I had been set to watch the helm while Sparrow investigated what treasures the hold might yeld. From the sound of the shouts within I guessed he had found the poor fisherman's catch of coins.
"Now I know I'm back in the Caribbean!" Sparrow crowed as he emerged holding three bottles of dark rum. "Will yer 'ave a drink wiv' me, love?"
"No thank you." I replied coldly "And you shouldn't either – I can't control this thing on my own."
"Yer've a lot to learn about Capt'n Jack Sparrow, Cathy, I can steer better drunk than sober." And with that he swept me aside and took over the helm as he uncorked the first bottle with reverence. "We rape, we pillage, we plunder and loot..." I heard him begin to sing as I retreated swiftly to the bow of the cutter.
****
As we ploughed steadily on, I closed my eyes and rested awhile, feeling the brisk wind the spray of the sea on my face. I must have drifted off because when I opened them again the sky was alight with stars. They were beautiful, wheeling through the night, I realised I had never paid them any mind at home, and I stared with the wonder of a newborn baby at those diamonds in the sky, far more beautiful than any of the jewels I had owned. I stood, leaning against the rail, dreamily staring upwards in the silence of the night.
Out of this stillness came a noise that made me jump right out of my skin. It was Sparrow, a rum bottle in hand – leaving the helm and staggering drunkenly towards me.
He stood next to me, leaning easily on the rails and took a deeps swig of his rum. For a while neither of us spoke, Sparrow's eyes seemed locked on the horizon. I looked back up at the sky, and tried to ignore him, but it was no use, I could hear the gentle clanging of the beads that adorned his hair and he radiated a drunken and slightly sour heat that jarred my stillness. Presently he spoke.
"Beautiful, ain't it Cath?" His words were slurred, even more so than usual. I idly wondered how much he had drunk and made no attempt to reply. He continued without looking up, a rambling monologue I think he would have pursued even without my presence. "The sea an' the sky meetin' wiv'out a thing to break the line. There's many'ud call that loneliness, or des'olation but, makes me feel safe. A road wiv'out tolls or bridges or hills or paths – freedom Cath."
"Freedom?" I said, also half to myself. To me, the sea seemed the most restrictive place on earth – nowhere to go apart from one side of the ship to the other, no escape other than those murky depths.
"Freedom." He repeated firmly, and took a swig of rum, as if making a toast. "That's whot a ship is, y'know – not a mast an' a sail an' an keel – that's whot a ship needs. But whot a ship is, whot the Black Pearl really is," Here he paused and looked up – meeting my eye and holding my gaze – I was caught off guard and my eyes seemed locked before I could look away. "I've tried to tell women this a'fore. They don't understand Cath, none o'yer." To my horror, I heard his voice begin to crack and his eyes fill with tears. No man had ever cried in my presence before, no gentleman would have dared. I had grown up almost believing men didn't cry.
"Oh, there Jack." I exclaimed hurriedly. "You mustn't cry. I'm sure I, you mustn't." I searched my head for something to comfort him. "I sure many people don't understand each other. Why when you came out here I was looking at the sky and thinking these stars were about the most beautiful thing in the world. I see them as a great dome over the earth, protecting us and shining down when the sun forsakes us. They are so beautiful, they" I struggled on, Sparrow's tears still fell and he was gazing at me with eyes so dark and piercing and the bore into me in a way that made me quite afraid and exposed. "They, they are like diamonds, some big and some small, some ground to dust and scattered about it's brothers – like that constellation there, do you see? I am sure you feel I am quite mad to think such things and don't understand me one bit. So you mustn't cry, do you see?" I fell quiet, embarrassed, still Sparrow stared but his tears subsided.
"You do understand me." His words made me jump, what did he know about me? What did he think he saw in me? "yer so quiet, and so 'aughty. But fer all o' that you see things fer 'ow they are." He pointed his finger at me, rings flashing in the moonlight as spoke. Then, finally he broke my gaze and turned to face the sea, draping his arm absently round my shoulders as he did so. "Even the luv' o' my life didn't understand me." He muttered.
"Anamaria?" I asked gently.
"Oh no, not her – her." I held my breath – another woman? Mayhap he meant the girl in Tortuga that Anamaria found him with all those years ago? I waited for more, but presently his head fell upon my shoulder and I heard his snores, loud and even, like a saw.
After a while I slipped away, to stand at the helm; though what good I would have done in case of any trouble I didn't know.