Pearl of the Sea

Chapter Three- A bit of Plunder and a New Name

"Sails broad on the starboard quarter!"

The Captain of the Bonnie Fay, an Irish merchant ship taking its maiden trans-Atlantic voyage, was caught off guard by the sudden announcement by his look-out. From where he stood on the Quarterdeck, he could see the ship through the crusty and sea-sprayed lens of the spyglass, but Captain McGill was having trouble telling if they were friend or foe.

"McCluskey!" The Captain's voice rumbled across the deck to his first mate, "C'm 'ere an' 'ave a look a' this." He gestured with his head for the sailor to come up to him and the man did as his captain said.

McCluskey was a bulky man, about twice the size of his captain, and by the time he reached the Quarterdeck his captain's patience had all but run out. "Aye sir?" The spyglass was thrust into his hands and thoughtfully McCluskey peered through.

"Sails look new aye?" McGill asked putting a hand to his chin. "Crisp white, no 'oles or patches."

"Aye." The spyglass was still pressed to McCluskey's eye as he replied.

"Neither colors nor name in sight?"

"No sir. Not that I c'n see."

The Captain nodded and turned before addressing his men. "Catch a tailwind lads! She's a suspicious one!"

"Cap'n! They're strikin' their colors!" McCluskey suddenly announced before the spyglass was ripped from his grasp and pressed to his Captain's eye.

"By the gods! 'Tis the Irish beauty 'erself!"

And indeed it was, high above the Caribbean waves the Irish flag was slowly being raised into the air. Of course, it was no Irishman who doing this task, but a mutt of a pirate. His Captain stood at the bow of the dark ship, spyglass held by his bejeweled fingers, the first mate on his right and the quartermaster on his left.

"An Irish flag? Cap'n don't that look a tad odd seein' as we're nearin' Venezuela?" The first mate's dark eyes followed the colors as they rose up into the blue, a frown playing on her features.

"Tell me love, what colors should I through up there? The Irish don't get along with anyone but themselves."

"Sounds familiar." The woman muttered and before her captain could retort the quartermaster cut in.

"We've seemed to've picked up a tailwind that they haven't. We'll get to them 'fore they have time to take off, with a wind and the Pearl's speed."

Replacing the spyglass to his eye, Jack Sparrow focused it on their pray. "She's in no shape to be chasin' after anythin' 'till we get her all patched and de-Barbossa'd, but I think Pearl can handle a Schooner who's seen too many days sea than it can take." With a golden grin he shut the spyglass and carelessly tossed it to AnaMaria. This would be his first adventure with his ship in ten long years. He could feel his pulse quicken at the thought.

"'Bout how long 'till we catch her?" AnaMaria asked as Jack turned to head back to the Quarterdeck.

"Hard to say," he said stopping and turning to face her and regard the ship in question once more. "An hour, two tops. Use yer time wisely lass. Remember," He grinned and patted the sword at his thigh, "Prepare for war, but hope for peace."

While Sparrow's crew was busy readying cannons, pistols, daggers and any other means of weaponry, the crew of the merchant ship was preparing for a bit of trade. The Captain prepared documents, wine, and other assorted things for the Captain of the fine Irish ship sailing behind them and himself to enjoy while talking business. After a brutal crossing of the Atlantic, his fortune was beginning to look brighter.

The thoughts of what wealth, advice, and friendships this mystery ship could bring stayed fresh and inspiring in the Irish Captain's mind right up until the ship was too close to escape and the flag suddenly changed. The Irish colors were replaced by a Jolly Roger and the name of the dark ship was obvious.

This is when the entire crew of the Bonnie Fay began to panic.

This was when Jack grinned and began shouting. The two decks fell silent as they listened to the well known Captain's plan of action.

"Hand over anythin' yeh don't need for survival willin'ly and there will be no need for hostility. Easy as that lads. Which one of yeh runs this fine ship?"

Slowly, and hesitantly, McGill stepped forward and called out to Sparrow. "Tha' would be me, Captain James McGill of the Bonnie Fay. All we got ov'r 'ere is a bit of potatoes and barley. We mainly ship 'em to the islands for the distillin' of al-co-hol. If tha's not good 'nough for yeh pirates than kill us quickly."

Jack's face lit up into his trademark golden grin. "Kill yeh? No intention of killin' yeh mate. Just be a good man and do what's asked of yeh and no harm will come to you or yer fine ship. Did I 'ear yeh mention alcohol? We'll boys, seems we've hit the jackpot. Not much to make us any money, but 'nough to keep us happy and slobberin'." It was obvious to Jack this was the first time McGill had ever encountered a pirate of any kind. The man was visible shaking and looking like he expected to be shot at any moment. An average pirate might have already shot and killed half the crew so Jack couldn't blame the poor man for looking so distraught. But, Jack was a tad nicer than your average pirate.

"I'm sendin' a few of me boys over to look the ship over. Stay outta their way and they'll not hurt yeh." Jack called before he waved with the pistol that was gripped in his right hand and ten crewmembers placed a plank between the two ships and then made their way across it.

Jack held true to his word and not a scratch appeared on any of the Irishmen the entire time his men were aboard. It was about an hour or so later before the poor empty ship was to their rutter and a new adventure waiting on the horizon.

The sun had begun to set as Venezuela finally appeared as a speck on the horizon and the merchant ship had faded to nothing. The crew had finished sorting all the newly plundered items and had begun preparing for the final haul and then anchoring. The dark ship's captain stood at her helm, his first mate climbing the stairs to the quarterdeck.

Looking over the pile of plunder gave Jack a sort of pride. It left him with this feeling that the hole that had been nesting in his heart for the past ten years was slowly beginning to fill. His eyes spotted Ana, the wind playing with her hair and trying to steal her floppy hat as she ascended the last two stairs, and he gave her a small smile.

"It's days like these that make me wond'r why anyone would choose the life of a banker or tradesmen," Jack stated matter-of-factly. "When they could be out here with nothin' but the open sea and freedom."

"Aye, tha's a question I've always wond'red 'bout meself. Got the report with me Cap'n. Seems the Irish were holdin' a bit more then they 'fessed up too." Reaching into her trouser pockets, AnaMaria slipped out a small piece of paper with Gibbs' scrawling handwriting on it. He was the only one other than Jack that could read or write, so it was only natural he took the notes in situations like these.

Raising an eyebrow, Jack began to read. "Ten barrels of potatoes, fifteen barrels of barley, ten trunks of gold and silver dining utensils, and eighteen cases of rum." The captain nodded before refolding the paper and sticking it in a jacket pocket. "'Bout what I expected. Although, 'tis a bit lighter on the potatoes than I thought."

"Ten trunks of gold and silver, Sparrow! Ten bloody trunks and yer commenting the potatoes? Yer daft!" The woman shouted. "Yeh should be a nuthouse if all yeh can think of is potatoes at a time like this. We're bloody rich, mate!"

Jack locked the helm with a grin before he turned to face his first mate. "Listen love, if yeh haven't noticed, we haven't exactly been poor. Barbossa left us with a bit of swag, (an entire island full to be exact) we just haven't had a place to spend it. Hence the fact that after we hit 'Zuela 'ere we'll head up to St. Kitts, then hit Tortuga." His fingers seemed to be drawing a map of the Caribbean while he spoke, tracing their route as he said it. Dazed, AnaMaria watched his fingers and thought of all the glorious things she would be buying in the next month. Suddenly a thought struck her. A big city would be brilliant at a time like this. It wasn't often that a girl realized she was rich.

"Could we sail this girl to London?"

"London?" Jack said, a shudder running up his spine. "I hate London."

AnaMaria looked appalled at this statement. "Hate London? What reason could'yeh possibly 'ave to hate London?"

"Newgate, Execution Dock, Kidd's dead body blowin' in the wind." His eyes grew dark and another shudder, this one visible, ran down his spine. "Jolly ole' England my arse."

AnaMaria frowned before putting a hand to her chin. "Paris then?"

"Paris? France? HA!" Jack said before he swept past her and started down the stairs.

"Oh come on Cap'n! Think of all the women just waitin' fer yeh there! Booze runnin' freely!"

"Navy-swarmin', death-likely. Listen love, if I'm lookin' for desperate women and flowin' booze I'll save meself the trouble to crossin' the Atlantic and just go to 'Tuga."

A thud echoed across the quarterdeck as AnaMaria stomped her boot against the Pearl's planks. "Yer bloody insufferable."

Jack laughed before he stepped off the last step. "Yer not exactly an angel yerself darlin'."

"Me name's AnaMaria, not 'love' and not 'darlin'." The first mate said through gritted teeth as she made her way down the last few steps. "Save yer bloody pet names fer the whores."

"I'll try to remember that lass."

"S'not 'lass' either!"

"Right, I'll remember that one too, sugar."

"If yer lookin' to get slapped yer doin' a mighty good job of it." The woman warned as she glared daggers at her captain who just stood there smiling.

"Alright, well, yer name's too bloody long for its own good. Can I call yeh Maria then?"

It was AnaMaria's turn to shudder and she shook her head vigourously at the thought. "Tha's me mother. Never ever call me that."

Jack chuckled before he came up with another one. "Right, 'ow 'bout Ana then?"

"Ana?" She said thoughtfully.

"Aye, short, to the point, rolls off the tongue nicely. Ana."

The woman stood there, the wind once again threatening to take off with her hat, and thought it over. Ana. It wasn't too bad. "Aye, I s'pose yeh can call me that."

Jack nodded before looking around. "Alright, we've got an accord." Jack continued toward the hatch leading down to the galley before he stopped and turned. "Ana?"

"Aye Cap'n?"

"I didn't ferget. Yer still on brig duty."

"Damn."

A/N: Big thanks to all who reviewed for the past two chapters. You're thoughts are my only reward for this. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter. It's more of a 'get-to-know-the-characters' chapter than anything. Next one will be a bit different though.

The AnaMaria vs. Anamaria- I have a book entitled "Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl" that was put out by Disney. It was written for eight year olds but my friend found it entertaining to give it to me when I was waiting for Pirates to come out on DVD. Anyway, in said book it spells AnaMaria with the capital M. So, since Disney spells it that way, I spell it that way. Same goes for Port Royal. The final -e is not present when Disney spells it, so it is not present when I spell it.

Until next week, you review and I write. Deal?