Usual disclaimers… drat!

I have had two comments about Jack's lack of knowledge regarding childbirth and feel that I have no choice than to explain to those that do not seem to understand, perhaps because of lack of age or research. Things in those days were not the same as nowadays, although having discovered that they believed whipping male servants outside a delivery room speeded up the birthing process sounds a great idea to me – does it work with husbands?

Firstly, in answer to the comment about Jack being born in a brothel / growing up on the streets – in the movie (if you read the book/script) it mentions he was apprenticed to a cartographer and it hints that this is where he found out about the Isla de Muerta. This would be a highly respectable job and to qualify to be apprenticed would mean that Jack himself would have had to have been educated. Therefore, he did not grow up on the streets, nor was he born in a brothel. Whatever or wherever he came from, it was somewhere middle-class or higher.

Secondly, this time answering the comments about Jack's lack of knowledge of birthing. I researched this before writing and, in those days, men simply did not attend women in labour. There is a story of one Doctor, Dr. Wertt of Hamburg, in 1522, who had the idea to dress up in women's clothes to gain entry to a labour room. He was discovered and was burned at the stake for his effort!

We are lucky in that we now have free choice as to who we have in our delivery rooms. It should also be considered that, according to an American website, all males were banned from delivery rooms until the mid-1900's! My own father was working when I was born and that was only 38 years ago… in those days the thought of a man, even a husband, being there was still unthinkable. My grandmother, who grew up on a farm amongst all the animal-husbandry, even was raised thinking you could get pregnant by kissing!

It was even worse in the 18th century when it was unheard of for men (even if they were a doctor!) to be present during the birth of a baby unless there were serious complications, and then he would work "blind" with the woman most likely covered by a sheet. You would also have to be rich to afford a doctor and most women simply had to suffer or die - or both.

Therefore, the likelihood of Jack ever having seen a birthing woman, even his own wife, is highly unlikely even if he had been in Tortuga on the actual day. Plus childbirth was a dangerous thing in those days – his wife was in labour, on a ship, with no skilled help available… I think he is entitled to panic a little. If my own troubled labour had been in my grandmother's days, I'd be dead and so would my son… it's a sobering thought.

Pen has assured me that my research and writing in this are historically correct. Don't tell anyone, but I think she remembers! ;)

Anyway, enough of my rant, on with the story…

Chapter 29 – Tortuga

Jack sat quietly in the ship's boat with half of the crew, Jacob at his side. The second boat sat nearby, close enough that they could talk quietly to each other without fear of their voices carrying in the darkening gloom. "Th' Crow's not there," he frowned, disappointed that he would not be able to destroy Bryn Corbin's old ship whilst regaining the Black Pearl.

"What d' yer want us to do?" Joshamee said softly, looking at Jack for some sign of his plan as he had not yet revealed it to them.

"We leave th' boats back at th' cove with Bessie," he replied, his head turning automatically to the small sheltered bay in which they had hidden Bessie's Revenge. "Then we creep back here an' walk out to th' ships…"

"Walk?" Jacob queried, a frown creasing his brow. "Don't you mean swim?"

"Nah, walk!" Jack said, his golden teeth glinting in the dim light. The idea had come to him from when he had seen Barbossa order his crew out to the HMS Dauntless. He shuddered, recalling the day. Despite his hatred of the man, he was not averse to borrowing his ploy. "We can't drown," he assured his brother. "We can walk along th' seabed an' climb up th' anchor chains…"

"We'd best get back t' Bessie then," Joshamee nodded in understanding, his expression grim, eager to gain his revenge on the Welshman and to regain the Black Pearl.

The two boats quietly rowed back to the hidden ship and the men raised them up, securing them safely on board. "Get th' flag," Jack ordered Henry, turning to greet Bessie who emerged from the brightness of the master cabin. He intended to have the Black Pearl flying under her proper colours as soon as possible and the only flag they had was the one currently flying over Bessie's Revenge.

"Are you going soon?" she asked, pausing to shut the doors behind her so that the children would not see their father and the men in their cursed form if the cloudy skies parted.

"Aye," he confirmed, taking her in his arms and holding her close. He kissed her softly. "Just remember that we cannot be hurt, so don't yer worry yerself about us…"

"I'll always worry," Bessie admitted, "until you are all back here safely." She sighed. "You put your trust in the curse, but even you do not know the limits of its power…"

"We'll be fine…" Jack began, pausing as his ears caught the sound of one of the babies crying. "Yer'd best head back. Bar th' doors behind yer."

Bessie kissed him once more before turning back to the cabin. "It's probably Ned again, he's always the first to wake," she smiled, carefully opening the doors. "Come back safe…" For a moment she paused, turning back and looking at him, before closing the doors.

Jack waited until he heard the sound of the bar being lowered before turning to the waiting men. "Let's go," he grinned.

88888

Bryn Corbin paced the master cabin of the Black Pearl. He had overseen the loading of supplies that day and, at first light, when the crew returned from whatever taverns or whores presently occupied them, the ship would sail again in search of fresh victims. He grinned to himself, eager to feel the speed of the dark ship once more, the power of her sweeps and the joy of knowing that he was faster than any ship that the Navy had in the Caribbean. Naked, and still sweating from exertion, he glanced across at the whore in the bunk who waited for him to rejoin her. He put the bottle of brandy down and for a moment he stared at her, wondering why he had brought her aboard, for he would have to see her ashore in the morning which would delay their departure. She was blonde, but she was not the blonde he wanted. He still smarted at the debacle at Port Royal and his failure to find Jack Sparrow's widow. "Bessie…" he muttered to himself, envisaging her in his bunk, her clothes torn from her body and his lust, momentarily, slated.

"What?" the whore said, looking across at him, breaking his dream.

"I wasn't speakin' to you, yer stupid cow," he said, turning his back on her and staring out of the stern windows into the night. "Bessie…" He had wanted her since before he had seen her, initially as a means to finding her father's treasure and then, once he had seen her, as revenge against Jack Sparrow, payback for what should have come to him. All the years he had wanted her but had held back, fearful of the power of the Black Pearl and the protection that Edmund Morgan offered. But he had watched, and followed, and spied on her whenever he could, his want for her slowly growing into an obsession.

He would get her, she could not escape him for long. Indeed, only a few months earlier he had sent a man to London in search of her, having discovered from a contact in Port Royal where she had gone. He was sure that such a notable woman would easily be remembered even in a city that size. Soon… soon she would be his; his man would bring her back – the bounty he had offered would see to that.

He shrugged to himself, reasoning that the children would have to go. The boys, unfortunately for them, could not be allowed to grow to avenge their father – they would die, but the girls? Well, if they were as pretty as their mother, he could easily make a fair profit selling them to the Spanish for whores. He chuckled at the thought. And then he could turn his attention to the mother… Bessie. Just the thought of having her aroused him again.

"Are ya coming back?" He jumped as he heard the whore speak, startled to realise she had crept from the bunk without him realising. She rubbed herself against him, her hand reaching for his groin. "My, my," she smiled, licking her lips. "Ya look more than ready t' me."

Bryn Corbin groaned with pleasure under her ministrations, following her distractedly back to the bunk. Perhaps tomorrow would bring news…

88888

Okay… the first one to shout out in pantomine fashion "behind you" gets a slapping! (hehe)

 3 