Chapter 8
It was still dark when Billy woke, after a fitful night. He had been scared to go to sleep, worrying about waking before sunrise and missing Mr Gibbs at the crossroads. Before going to sleep, he had packed a small bag with the extra clothes he needed, so getting up was merely a matter of putting on shirt and breeches from the day before.
Billy picked up his bag and examined his room in the half-light coming from the window. After a moment's contemplation, he pulled back the sheet covering the bed, messed up the bed clothes, and as quietly as possible opened the window wider. Jack Sparrow's letter to his parents was left on the pillow.
Next, holding his shoes in his hand, he tiptoed silently past his parents' door and down the stairs, stepping over the loose floorboard that creaked. The front door opened softly enough, and Billy ran down the road a short distance before putting on his shoes.
By the time he was at the crossroads, looking over his shoulder every ten seconds in case someone had followed, the sun was beginning to peep over the horizon. But Gibbs was already waiting, chewing on a bit of grass and picking at his nails. He looked up as Billy approached, and grinned broadly.
"I didn't reckon you'd come, lad!" he said.
Billy smiled, nervously. "I brought my clothes." He held up the bag, and Gibbs took it.
"C'mon, then."
They kept to the side of the road, out of sight, and talked little. Gibbs led the way. At one point Billy asked if the ship was anchored in the same bay as it had been a month before, and Gibbs confirmed it was. Indeed, a short while later they came down the hill and into the open, where the Black Pearl lay in the early morning sunlight.
Billy gasped. If the ship had been lovely before, when her crew were hard at work mending her, she was magnificent now. All her masts were whole, and the sails had been neatly stowed along the yard-arms. At this early hour few were on deck, but when Gibbs gave the signal whistle there was an instant response, and soon the boat was paddling the Black Pearl's newest crewmember towards the ship.
A lean black pirate with an interesting scar above his eye helped Billy over the railing with a cheerful "welcome aboard", and Gibbs followed with Billy's little bag of things. The deck was clean and tidy with all the ropes coiled and stowed in their places, and it seemed as though the Pearl was a different creature from how she had been just weeks before.
Billy looked upwards at the masts, and around at the ropes, and squinted at the brass, and wondered exactly what he would be doing.
His reverie was broken by the sound of booted feet and the gentle jangle of bits of metal.
"I knew you'd come," said Jack Sparrow, cheerfully. "Welcome to the Black Pearl, once again, Master Turner. Did you escape all right?"
"I don't think I woke anyone up," Billy said. "And I left your letter on my pillow, and messed up the sheets a bit so they'll think you took me."
Sparrow laughed. "We'll turn you into a pirate yet, lad. Mr Gibbs!"
"Aye, sir?"
"Wake all hands. I want to get her underway before our cabin boy's parents find he's gone and rouse the Navy. Billy?"
Billy met his new captain's eyes, and said smartly, "Aye, sir?" just like Gibbs.
"Take your bag below; there's a hammock for you in the sleeping quarters. Then come to the poop deck - up there - and stay out of the way while the men set sail, savvy?"
"Aye, aye, sir," Billy repeated, and followed Gibbs down to the sleeping quarters. An empty hammock had been hung for him with a blanket and a box beneath it to help him get in; he threw his bag in and watched as Gibbs woke the crew through a mixture of shouting and prodding. The men yawned and grumbled as they climbed out of hammocks and into clothes, but within just a short space of time everyone had gone on deck. Billy followed, and obeyed Sparrow's orders by climbing the stairs to the poop deck and finding himself a quiet corner to watch proceedings. Half the men had scurried to climb the masts, and when Billy craned his neck to look aloft he saw that they had spread out along the yard arms and were busy untying ropes and allowing the sails to fall loose. Down below, other men were walking around the capstan, raising the anchor with a rattle of chain.
"Man the sweeps!" called Jack Sparrow, and those on deck disappeared below. "They'll get us out of the bay and into the wind," Sparrow explained, in answer to Billy's curious look.
All the sails had been untied now, and the men aloft came hurrying down to the deck again. While Sparrow and Gibbs looked on from the poop deck, Hooper called out orders, the men hauled on ropes and the sails were pulled down to fill with wind.
The ship, powered by the men pulling on the sweeps, moved slowly out of the shelter of the land. Guided by Gibbs at the wheel, she came into the wind; the loose sails filled and the Black Pearl began to really move.
"Easy sweeps!" Sparrow ordered. "All hands to bracing stations … bracing the foremast to port …"
Hooper relayed the orders, and Billy watched in awe as the men hauled the yards of the mast so they were angled to the left. After that they repeated with the mainmast, and suddenly the ship was flying across the waves, leaning over with her black sails full of wind.
Sparrow looked across at him, his golden grin warm and real. "Well?" he said.
"It's wonderful," said Billy, meaning it.
"Mr Gibbs!" said Sparrow.
"Aye, sir?"
"Set a course for Porto Rico."
"Porto Rico it is, cap'n," Gibbs responded, turning the wheel slightly. "Headin' east."
On deck, Hooper called more orders and the men began to tidy up the ropes that had been uncoiled as the sails were set. Billy peered over the side of the ship, marvelling at the water foaming under the hull, before looking forward in awe at the billowing black sails.
Coming up to him, Sparrow laid a be-ringed hand on his shoulder. "This is the real Pearl, lad, flying free. Now, come below and we'll get you signed on as a member of the crew."
They started down the steps to the deck, but halfway down were brought up short by a figure blocking their way. Sparrow swayed and stopped, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"Mr Piper," he said.
The doctor's arms were folded, and there was a thunderous look on his face. Billy decided he ought to watch from a distance, and retreated a few steps.
"This is why we came back to Jamaica?" said Piper. "For the boy?"
"He was one o' the reasons, aye," Sparrow replied. "Did you fancy tendin' young Ted's seasickness for another month?"
"No." Piper shook his head. "No, of course not. He was utterly unsuited to a life at sea. But so is the Turner boy. He has a trade to go to, Captain; an honest trade. And he has parents who love him, an education. He wasn't born to go to sea." He raised his eyebrows at Sparrow. "For God's sake, man, turn around and put him ashore."
Sparrow took a step down, bringing him right up against the motionless figure of the surgeon. "Stand down, Mr Piper. What goes on on my ship does not concern you. The lad chose to come aboard, and aboard he's staying."
There was a moment's tense silence, and then Piper stepped down the stairs on to the deck.
"Ta," said Sparrow. "And for your information, Mr Piper, he was born to go to sea. His grandfather was one of the best I ever sailed with, and I've sailed with a few. His father knew nothing, but would've picked it up like that," he snapped his fingers in the surgeon's face, "if he'd stayed." He turned to Billy. "C'mon, lad. Articles to sign."
Billy followed the captain, throwing a sideways glance at Piper as he did so. The doctor, scowling, turned his back and crossed to the rail.
"Turner!" Sparrow said, and Billy hurried after him.
In the quiet gloom of Sparrow's cabin, the tilt of the ship seemed more pronounced. Sitting in a chair Billy watched as his new captain easily negotiated the small space and its obstacles to produce a thick, leather-bound book, quill and ink, and bring them across to the large table dominating the cabin. He tapped the cover.
"Ship's articles," he said, opening it at the beginning and flicking through several pages. "Every man who's ever willingly sailed on this ship's signed this book - or tried to." Sparrow indicated a rough cross next to one name, and turned more pages. "This was me, when I was your age."
Leaning over the book, Billy saw a neat entry dated many years ago, with the name 'Jack Sparrow, cabin boy, Portsmouth' next to it, and a scrawled signature.
Sparrow explained that on the first page there was a list of conditions which Billy was agreeing to by signing his name. The list had been amended several times, with crossings-out and rewrites in a variety of different hands. Reading over it, Billy saw that the rules were simple and consisted principally of respecting crewmates and obeying orders.
The book was nearly full, and Sparrow turned almost to the last page before he found a space. Dipping quill in ink, he wrote carefully, 'William Turner, cabin boy, Port Royal' on the clean parchment, and passed Billy the quill.
"Last chance to turn back," he said. "If you don't want t' sign, I will put you ashore."
Billy took the quill, and inscribed his name next to his entry.
Sparrow smiled at him, and blotted the page. "Thanks, lad."
"Can I see where my grandfather signed?" asked Billy, curious to see the signature of the earlier William Turner.
Bootstrap Bill's entry in the articles was close to the beginning of the book - 'William Turner, able seaman, Portsmouth'. His signature was long and sloping. Reaching out to touch it with a finger, Billy found himself wishing he could have met his grandfather, and resolved to find out more about him from Jack Sparrow when he could.
They left the cabin and Sparrow led the way back up on deck. The men had tidied up now, and the rails were hung with perfectly-coiled rope. The Black Pearl's captain surveyed her happily, before beckoning to Hooper.
"Billy, you met Mr Hooper before, I think. He's me bo'sun, and I'd be hard-pressed to find a better. Mr Hooper, Master Billy Turner, our new cabin boy. I'd like you to show him the ropes today, give him some jobs to do, keep the lad out of mischief."
"He don't look too mischievous," Hooper said, grinning at Billy. "Aye, cap'n, I'll be glad to look after him. There's plenty to be done."
Sparrow thanked Hooper with a little bow, and sauntered off towards the poop deck. Hooper turned in the opposite direction, making for the bow; Billy followed, full of anticipation for what the rest of the day might bring.