(standard disclaimer applies)
The day Gibbs was discharged from the Navy, he sold the sweetheart's locket he'd held for seven years and bought passage to Tortuga. He'd heard of the rock though he'd never visited it, and it sounded like the best sort of place for a man to go drowning his sorrows.
A bit maudlin over losing his last memento from Sally, he didn't pay quite so much attention to how quickly he spent the last of the money, and so he was barely conscious to register the three wicked-looking men who started to sidle up to him in the alley. Just as panic started to bleed through the fog of drink, a hand clapped down on his shoulder.
"There y'are, Smithy! I been lookin' for your sorry hide all blasted night!"
Gibbs stared straight ahead at his would-be attackers, who exchanged a glance, apparently decided the odds were not in their favor, and faded into the shadows.
Now he turned to regard his rescuer, who certainly didn't look like a fellow to be reckoned with, despite the blade and pistol at his hip. His face was young and sharp, his eyes were ringed with smoky kohl, and his black hair jingled when he cocked his head.
"You were about t' get yourself into a spot o' trouble there, mate. You new around here?"
"Aye," said Gibbs, sobering up mostly from shock. The man looked like a pirate and smelled like a whorehouse, but he was grinning most disarmingly. "Name's Gibbs - Joshamee Gibbs."
"Well met, Mr. Gibbs." He extended a beringed hand. When Gibbs took it, expecting a weak grip to go with the foppish appearance, he was surprised to find himself held tight and strong. "Captain Jack Sparrow."
That gave Gibbs hope, as he'd not yet had any luck in his search for a crew to join up with. "What be the name o' yer ship, Cap'n?"
Something passed over Sparrow's dark eyes, though his jolly expression never altered. "Well, that's something of a tale, mate. What say I buy you a drink and we maybe work our way up to th' subject?"