Disclaimer: I do not own any characters who originally appear in the Disney motion picture, "Pirates of the Caribbean;" I do however own all the others. This story is a creative experiment conducted out of great affection for the characters, style and spirit of the film, and has been written for non-commercial, entertainment purposes only.
ESPERANZA
Chapter 1: Awake and At Sea
The manner in which Eliza woke up was most unexpected. Having gone to bed a few hours earlier in an elegant ship's cabin, she was shocked to find herself soaking wet, still in her dressing gown and afloat in the middle of the chilling ocean aboard what probably used to be a door. Soon, the groggy memories returned. There had been an attack on the Esperanza, cannonballs exploding into the night and the yells of men as they fought the invaders boarding the ship. And now, this dark-haired young woman of nineteen was utterly alone, with nothing but wreckage and dead Englishmen floating in the water around her. She had no idea what had happened, but as she smelled the burnt air she guessed it was probably the work of pirates. She had sailed with her father often enough to understand the dangers faced by merchant vessels on the Spanish Main, and now, she realized as she began to cry softly, her father was likely dead, since captains are expected to go down with their ships.
Time passed slowly for Eliza, floating on the door. Someone would surely come looking for the Esperanza, she thought wistfully. The ship had been carrying precious stones from Africa, silk from China, and other luxury goods enjoyed and expected by the nobles in the British Caribbean settlements. Nobles, she thought. What does it really mean to be noble anyway? My father died protecting his ship, which to some is noble, but he did it for a bunch of puffed and powdered cretans living in seaside manses who would never understand or appreciate the sacrifice, but instead will probably wonder where the hell their silk undergarments are.
Eliza hung her head. There wasn't much to be done about her predicament at the moment. She was so tired, and shivering. She missed her father, and she was sad that she'd never see the Esperanza again. It had been such a beautiful ship, made by Spaniards, and bought by her father during one of those magic moments when your luck is up while the other guy's is down. Esperanza, her father had explained to 13-year-old Eliza, means hope. Most captains changed the names of their newly-acquired ships, for luck, or to underline the sense of fresh start; Captain Herrold had such affection for the name and such respect for the makers of this grand galleon, he kept the name. Eliza never questioned why her father hadn't re-named the ship after her mother; the pain was too new, and out on the ocean, he could forget about her drawn face, gasping for breath as she succumbed to tuberculosis. And while Eliza had certainly missed her mother, she had found life on the waves exciting and wonderful. There was certainly nothing wonderful about floating all alone in the ocean, she thought, as she curled up and tried to get more sleep.
As morning gave way to the afternoon, Eliza decided she didn't want to just lay there and die. If this was going to be her last day, she would go out fighting just like her father did. Using the information her father had taught her about the path of the sun and what that means to direction, Eliza decided to move south. This door would be too heavy for her to push against as she swam, though. Looking around her, she saw a plank floating not far away. She was scared, because once she let go of that door, there would be no turning back, and she might drown. But Eliza thought of her father, and cast off. Once she got to the plank, she held it out in front of her and kicked her legs toward the south, bobbing up and down in the massive green waves.
Eliza kicked for two hours, and then had to rest. The plank was hardly as large or as comfortable as the door had been, nor could it support her half as well. Still, she thought, she might be able to rest for a short while before renewing her fight against the waves. Her eyes were hurting and irritated from the seawater, but at least her movement had kept her from being too cold. At least she knew what direction she was going, she thought, and at least she still had a piece of the Esperanza.
Up on the poop deck of the Black Pearl, Annamaria thought she spotted something through the spyglass. "Mister Gibbs!" she yelled. "castaway, floating two hundred meters off starboard!" Gibbs, put down his flask, irritated to be disturbed. A damned castaway, right as the supplies were getting scarce. He raised his own spyglass toward the starboard bow, stroking his sideburns as he realized what he was seeing. A young girl, in her dressing gown, kicking her way toward the ship with nary but a plank for protection – Gibbs realized he'd better tell Captain Sparrow straightaway.
Sparrow, who wasn't expecting any excitement today, was asleep in his quarters from a rum-induced stupor, dreaming of the women in Tortuga. Gibbs opened the door to the captain's quarters and saw Jack Sparrow sprawled out on his mahogany bed, limbs hanging to the floor and his mouth wide open. He paused amused for a moment, listening to the garbled sleeptalking of the captain. "No, Marjorie, love…not that hard, darling…soften it up…tha's it…right the--"
"Jack!" cried Gibbs. Jack Sparrow sat up with a start, hitting his head on the ceiling of the bed as he did it. "Right," mumbled Jack as his hand flew to the bump on his head. He couldn't tell what was making his head pound just now, the bed or the rum. "And to what do I owe your fine howdy-do this morning?" he asked his first mate with much effort.
"It's afternoon," corrected Gibbs, then continued. "Jack, there be a girl, floatin' out on the water. Two hundred meters, starboard bow." This news got the captain's attention. He stood to his full height, brushing his hands on his dusty black trousers.
"Well," answered Captain Jack Sparrow, grinning wryly through gold teeth and with newfound swagger. "Then she mustn't see me like this, now, must she? At least not yet, mate. Got to get me a shirt. And my effects. You set about to get her safe on board, savvy?" Gibbs nodded, but grumbled as he went. A gruff old man of the sea, Gibbs was superstitious enough that even having Annamaria aboard was bad luck to him, and now he'd just been asked to bring a second woman on board, while in hostile waters, and with the supplies running low.
Eliza had never seen a ship with black sails before, but she was certainly glad she saw one now. A man had yelled out to her, and thrown her a barrel. Eliza, trembling from the cold, held onto the barrel for dear life as the man pulled it closer to the boat. Eliza was too happy to be rescued to even think about who or what might be waiting for her aboard this strange vessel. This sturdy older man with bushy sideburns, who everyone was calling Mr. Gibbs, immediately gave her a blanket and ordered someone named Mr. Cotton to bring her some hot soup.
"I….I….I…" stammered Eliza, with her teeth chattering from the cold.
"There'll be plenty of time for explanations," said Mr. Gibbs. "We need to warm you up."
A nearby door opened, and Eliza jumped at what she saw. A tanned figure about 5'10" staggered toward her, dressed in a ragged white shirt torn down the middle, dusty black trousers, and tattered black leather boots. His beard was braided, his hair matted with beads and feathers braided into it and topped with a red scarf and a tri-cornered leather hat; he had tattoos and earrings and smelled like rum. Noting that the girl was sizing him up, Captain Jack stood a bit taller, affecting his best sideways grin. He let her stare for a minute longer before dipping into a grandiose bow.
"Welcome to the Black Pearl, miss," he said. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow." The Captain waited a moment for the inevitable dawn of recognition. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he repeated, bowing again but this time removing his hat to the lady. When no reaction registered from the shivering girl in the blanket, Jack rolled his eyes and stamped his foot indignantly. "Jack? Sparrow? Captain Jack Sparrow? Defeated Captain Barbossa and the Crew of the Cursed? Escaped hanging seventeen times? Branded, marooned, and still alive? Terror of the seven seas?" Jack paused again, wide-eyed and now forcing his grin. "Bloody hell," he exclaimed, exhaling and sitting down on a nearby barrel.
Gibbs took a quick swig from the flask around his neck and quickly stepped in. "Never ya mind, miss. You'll have plenty a' time to learn about where ya are. You need some rest, and I'll show ya to yer quarters. Annamaria! She'll be bunkin' in with you!" The brown woman still on the poop deck frowned as Gibbs shuttled the dripping young castaway out of sight.
Sparrow smiled broadly, stroking his beard. "Well thank goodness I have two ripe round oranges just aboard…keep me from getting' scurvy." Eliza wheeled around and glared at the captain, pulling her blanket up further around her, as Gibbs chuckled, turned her back around, and continued to march her toward her quarters.