Having been on this island twice before (once by himself, and once with Elizabeth) Jack already knew his way around it. He took out his sword and chopped down a few coconuts. He beat them on rocks to open them, then sucked out the sweet juice and ate the insides, moaning with pleasure; he hadn't eaten properly in almost 12 hours.
It was getting dark, so Jack decided that he needed to find a place to bed down for the night. He strolled along the coast until he spotted a small brook. He ran up to it and drank deeply; it was much more refreshing than the awful salt water he had been forced to drink.
Jack went back to where he had arrived and grabbed the wood he had come with. He went back to the stream and began to disassemble the raft, stacking the scorched planks in a pile.
Jack grabbed two sticks and began to rub them together, hoping to produce a fire, but to no avail. Jack scratched the twigs over and over on each other, but finally threw them away in disgust. A small spark appeared where they landed, but went out just as Jack ran up to them to pick up the sticks. Cursing, Jack rubbed them until his arms were too tired, then took out his sword and struck it against a rock, making several sparks, which caught the wood and burned.
Jack surveyed the results. "If I'd just done that, I could've saved meself about half an hour." He kept the fire going with the burnt wood from the burning of the rum barrels.
When it was satisfactory, Jack stuck his hat in the brook, searching for a couple of stray fish. Finding none, he went to the edge of the island and tried again. He captured several squirming ones that he didn't know the name of, but he cooked them over the fire and ate them all the same; the name didn't matter when they were resting in his gut.
Licking his lips, Jack laid down and patted his stomach happily, full. His dread-locked hair spread out behind his head. He slipped into a happy sleep, dreaming of fish, water, explosives, undead monkeys, and Elizabeth.
Jack's eyes fluttered open. It was pitch-black around him and he could hardly see. Jack turned his face up to the sky, wondering what had awakened him. A drop of water plopped on his forehead. Jack wiped it off just as another one fell on his cheek. And one on his arm. And another. And another.
"Bloody rain," Jack muttered as he ran for cover, the rain pouring down heavily. He took shelter under a clump of palm trees, bending over so he wouldn't get wet. He sighed as he attempted to drift into unconsciousness.
"Looks to be a storm," said Gibbs to Will, who was sitting in his room with his head in his hands. "Should we ready the Flipper?"
Will nodded, then shook his head. "Only get her ready if the storm picks up. No reason to awaken the crew otherwise."
"Aye, sir." Gibbs marched off.
Elizabeth stuck her head in Will's room. "Are you okay, Mr. Turner?" she asked timidly. She was worried about her friend; he had said barely a word to her all evening.
"Call me Will, Elizabeth." Will sighed. "No need for formalities now."
Elizabeth nodded and sat next to him on his bed. Neither of them said a word for a long time, until Elizabeth finally chose to break the silence. "I miss him."
Will agreed, but was too depressed to say anything. Will and Elizabeth were the only two that were still terribly upset about the loss of their captain. The crew had voted Will their new captain barely an hour after Jack's "death".
Elizabeth hesitated slightly before hugging Will tightly, letting a single tear fall down her cheek and into his lap. And they both silently vowed that it would be the last one from either of them.
Jack awoke to the screeching of birds around him. Without opening his eyes, he picked up his sword and slashed the heads off the nearest ones. A single squawk! rang out and then the splattering of blood. Jack dropped his sword, sat up, and grabbed the dead birds. He washed off the blood and plucked their feathers. He boiled water in an empty coconut shell over a fire, then tossed in the meat. When all the water evaporated, Jack poured in coconut milk and some weeds he found growing on the side of the brook. He stirred with a stick, then took the bowl of the fire and drank his makeshift soup. It scalded his throat, but he sucked it down anyway; it filled his stomach and made him drowsy.
Jack stripped off the rest of his clothes and took a swim in the ocean. He dried off quickly, got dressed, and ran his fingers through his wet hair. This turned out to not be such a brilliant idea. His fingers got tangled and he could not get them out again. He pulled and finally got them unstuck, wrapped in matted hair.
Jack sat on the edge of the sea, wishing that he had his rum. Although, admittedly, without it, he had done a much better job of "living on the land". It was refreshing to actually have a clear head for once. Still, he maintained his Jack Sparrow Swagger (as he called it), for it was practically his trademark.
Jack pulled his knees up to his chest and heaved a sigh. This, being the third time on this island, was not an unusual experience to Jack. At least the first time he was here he'd had rum. The second time he's had Elizabeth and rum (which was going quite well until Elizabeth turned on him and burnt all the rum).
"Bloody girl," Jack cursed her, remembering, but smiled. He could not stay mad at Elizabeth for long, even if she was still furious with him.
Jack twirled his dreadlocks idly as he thought. He pulled them back and tied them with a strip of cloth. He gazed into the ocean, surveying his new look. He laughed at himself, revealing several gold teeth, and removed the cloth, his long black hair hanging down his shoulders.
Bubbles appeared in the water about a hundred feet from shore. Jack panicked, thought "Kraken!" and instinctively reached for his jar of dirt. Jack remembered two things: 1) He had killed the Kraken a long time ago and 2) he had also smashed his jar of dirt, losing the thump-thump at the same time. Jack breathed a sigh of relief, but still wondered where the bubbles came from.
When no more appeared, Jack rolled his pants up to his knees and waded in the warm Caribbean waters. He felt around for a bit, then swam farther out and looked around there.
Jack was suddenly pulled underwater by a creature's mouth. It dragged him down beneath the waters and wouldn't let go, though Jack thrashed around wildly and kicked it several times in the head. Grabbing a knife from his sash, Jack cut a small line across the animal's back, making it bleed. It opened it's mouth for a split second, just long enough for Jack to release his foot and swim wildly to the surface.
Gulping for air, Jack swam to the shore and ran as far away from it as he could, heart racing. He looked back out at the water, and saw- a dolphin! Sure enough, a dolphin was surfacing a hundred feet out with a red cut on its back. It looked playful, and Jack realized that it only had wanted to make friends.
Jack, still a few feet from the water, called out to it, "Dolphin-thingy! Come here? Uncle Jack-y wants to play!" Knife ready, Jack intended to kill the beast and then eat it.
The dolphin, not stupid enough to get too close to the weapon, let out a shrill sound and flipped over. She jumped and spun around, mesmerizing Jack with his tricks, until she was close enough to spin next to Jack and knock the blade out of his hands and into the water.
Jack, surprised, watched as the dolphin seemed to laugh and swim away.
Thinking it was harmless, Jack went back into the sea just far enough to fetch his shiv and hide it against his ribs between the layers of his shirt. The dolphin came up behind the captain and put her nose between his legs, forcing him onto her back.
Jack, unsteady, slid off and grabbed her fin for support. The animal swam around for a little while before heading along the coast of the island, stopping behind a rock a few feet off shore.
"What the devil-" Jack started, before being nudged in the ribs by the dolphin. Jack winced as the blade of his knife cut into his skin, but kept quiet. Once again, there was a smudge in the distance, probably a ship. If it was moving, it was crawling along at a speed that Jack could have matched on foot. If wouldn't be there for another day, at best.
Jack, understanding what the creature was trying to tell him, gave her a gentle pat behind the ears before grabbing hold of her fin and riding back to his camp.
"Thank you…" Jack thought for a moment. "Sylvie." The dolphin let out a high pitched sound in approval and nudged his hand lovingly before swimming off.
Jack stretched out on the sand and basked in the sun. He seriously considered swimming out to the ship, but he knew that a) it would take much too long and b) if they turned out to be enemy ships, they would kill him or take him to Port Royal and take great joy at his hanging. Jack sighed. No, it was best that he watched and wait.