Many thanks to all who have taken the time to read my story. Hope you are enjoying it, and you don't feel its been a complete waste of your time.

To those who have left me reviews, many thanks, I do take notice and will continue to do so. Constructive criticism very welcome, suggestions, whatever.

To answer questions, I am intending on taking this to the mutiny (I think) but I'll take my lead from Jack and see where he takes me. Shadowshard: I appreciate all your comments and thank you for risking your job to leave them for me, ha ha. I agree with you, I do tend to write people and feelings/views better than places and settings but I am trying to improve on this.

Anyway enough waffle, press on……..

Disclaimer: I do not own POTC – I hold out hope that they will be offered to me but no luck so far. Ah well.

Chapter 5 – Aboard the Black Pearl

During the day the seas were calmer than at night when the rain came. And not just any old rain - big, heavy blobs of rain, the type of rain that soaked a man in seconds. Rain that hurt if it hit you in the face or hands. Rain that bounced off the deck and made a noise doing so. The darkness seemed to bring with it the rain, and the thick fog, as well as the unnatural shadows on the water and the strong winds. Whilst not a hurricane by far, this was all enough to worry the crew. The sea was angry at night alright. And restless. Big waves rose up and often splashed right over the side of the ship, soaking everyone in its wake. And the cold – as soon as the sun set, it became so cold that icy breath could be seen in the air.

Jack quietly contemplated these strange weather patterns from the safety of his cabin. It was a small cabin, room enough for the captain and his effects, a small table which was always strewn in maps, a chair and a hammock. More often than not, Jack ended up taking cat naps on his chair, boots up on the table, hat draped across his face. He was not a man able to take to his bed for the entire night. Not on this trip. Not in this weather. It was only the second day of the voyage though, plenty of time to catch up on sleep once nearer the island he figured.

He glanced sideways out of the grimy porthole at the black night beyond. Soaked to the skin already, he had decided to take a short break in his cabin before going back outside to take the wheel once more. This was the problem with being the only man aboard who knew the heading. Barbossa could keep the Pearl on a steady course for some moments true enough, but it needed Jack at the wheel to ensure they were in fact heading for the Isla de Muerta and not going around and around in circles before ending up back at Tortuga. Jack had survived worse storms than this one on many an occasion. But this strange weather did have him spooked just a little bit, even though so far he had kept this to himself and to the crew, appeared just as ridiculously calm and laid back as ever.

The storms, he supposed, were probably a complete coincidence and nothing to do with their heading at all. Storms happened all the time, everywhere, of course they did. It was only the stories making Jack feel a little uncomfortable, it was only because he had been half expecting strange happenings on this voyage and now he was attributing everything to it. A storm was just a storm, weather to be sailed through with minimum damage, it was nothing more than that.

Jack shook his head as several drops of freezing cold water suddenly found their way down his neck. He ran his hand through his thick, dark dreadlocks and sighed in dismay as his fingers got caught up in one, catching on his hair and the assortment of beads and trinkets tied into it. There was a sudden sharp rap on the cabin door and Jack whirled round, trying to remain casual with his hand still stuck in his dreadlock. It was Pintel, who trudged down the cabin steps, almost as if weighed down by the water in his clothes.

"Cap'n, the storm is worsening, Barbossa is requestin' you come back," Pintel said.

Jack nodded and pretended to be fiddling with his hat, since his hand didn't seem to want to tug free of his hair. Blast his bloody hair! Pintel frowned and looked on in confusion.

Jack's hand suddenly pulled free, along with a couple of beads which shot off across the cabin. Jack's eyes widened, and he darted after them, as the ship took a sudden lurch to the port side. Pintel staggered and grabbed onto the table, just managing to keep himself upright. He looked over his shoulder and saw Jack, scrabbling around on the floor. "Captain?" He murmured, with a raised eyebrow.

Jack suddenly leapt up, triumphant. "Got it!" he cried, and quickly and expertly tied the bead back into his hair, "A pox on this storm! Don' just stand there ye dog, come on!" And he ran up the cabin steps with the apparent energy of a five year old, as the ship seemed to groan as she lurched starboard. Pintel shook his head and followed.

Up on the deck, it was chaos. Jack could hardly see anything as he slowly made his way to the wheel, against the wind. Barbossa struggled to keep hold of the thing, as it spun this way and that. Although he might have had a touch more luck if he had used both his hands, one arm was resting atop his head trying to keep his hat in place. The deck was full of the crew, as they darted about pulling on ropes, trying to keep the Pearl steady and above the water, rather than in it. By the second the storm seemed to get worse and worse, the rain harder and heavier, the air had an icy chill and the wind picked up again, finally winning the battle with Barbossa's hat which swept off his head and was out of sight within a split second due to the fog. Barbossa shouted out several foul curses into the night. Jack could hardly hear himself think above the shouts of his men to each other, the howling gale and the raindrops pounding down on him.

Jack got to the wheel and Barbossa stepped aside, leaving Jack to try and navigate the way through with his compass. The needle swung around and around to Jack's complete frustration, due to the cursed weather. He shook it a little, holding on to it for dear life. If the wind took his compass, Jack was fully prepared to dive into the sea after it. Ah, it began to settle again, that was a good sign.

Jack swung the wheel around to alter course again. He guessed this must be the whole point of the Isla de Muerta, after all if it stayed put exactly it would have been easy to find wouldn't it, and the treasure would be long gone.

As Jack tried to focus forward, which was nigh impossible with the rain, he could vaguely make out the shape of William on the deck, organising the crew. It was as if he sensed Jack looking his way, as he turned to face the Captain and pointed wildly out into the ocean and shouted something to him. Jack couldn't hear a word of it but he could see that William was certainly upset about something. He tried to look in the direction William was pointing but he couldn't see a thing, it was far too foggy.

And suddenly it stopped. The rain quickly slowed, then stopped altogether and the wind dropped. In seconds. It was gone as quickly as it had come. The icy chill remained however and also the fog. The Pearl steadied herself and drifted along happily. Jack fondly patted the wheel and grinned, well done luv, he thought, you've done it.

Barbossa appeared in front of him and Jack jumped into action, steadying the wheel and checking his compass.

"Captain - a ship!" Barbossa shouted at him.

Jack looked again. Barbossa was right. Not thirty yards away was a ship. It was a huge galleon, black like the Pearl but with white sails. It was drifting completely parallel to their ship as if in tandem. The crew, who had been dashing about madly for the past hour trying to get safely through the sudden storm, fell silent and stared at the ship. Jack stared too, trying desperately to fathom what on earth was going on. The fog made the ship appear quite transparent and there was an odd look to it – Jack realised there was no sign of a crew, not one man aboard and no one at the wheel which spun freely from what he could make out, yet the ship stayed on course. He squinted to try and get a better view, but he came to the same conclusion again, there was no sign of a crew. And she was flying no colours at all.

"Take the wheel," Jack ordered Barbossa and ran to the side of the ship where he was joined by William.

Jack had over twenty men aboard the Pearl and every one of them was on deck staring at the white ship. William looked at Jack and then back again. "It's the dead, Jack," he breathed fearfully, "A ship crewed by ghosts come to warn us." Jack looked sharply at his friend, but it was too late. Ragetti, standing nearby holding onto the rag that still covered his eye by some miracle, had overheard.

"Ghosts!" he shouted, suddenly terrified. "Ship of the dead! The dead!" He started to run, but fell over his own gangly feet and ended up in a heap on the deck. Twigg, a nasty gent but a good worker nonetheless took Ragetti's lead and took off from where he was standing to find somewhere to hide. Khoeler frantically began to climb the rigging, although where he was hoping to hide up there was anyone's guess. Jack watched the madness unfold for a moment, and then gained his perspective back.

"Gentlemen," he shouted, "This is no ghost ship, this is obviously…. erm…" he waved wildly around, trying to think of something. "Perhaps we should …er…" but failing to think of something sensible to do, he suddenly ran across the deck, down the steps and into his cabin to think, slamming the door behind him.

William sighed and turned back to have another look. But the white ship had gone. Had it slowed down, changed course? It was too misty to see properly but William attempted it anyway, he leaned over the side, holding onto the roads in case the wind picked up again and took him unawares, and looked behind the Pearl which was, now the waters were calmer more or less back up to full speed. He looked around at the other crew members who had chosen not to hide, not many of them left, to no surprise. Pintel pointed out to sea. "Its gone!" he shouted, stating the obvious.

The ship had indeed completely disappeared. The fog was still as heavy as ever and as he looked out to the ocean again, William half doubted there had actually been a ship at all. Had they imagined the whole thing? He turned around slowly to go back to his duties feeling confused and caught Barbossa's eye, who was still at the wheel keeping her steady. Barbossa smiled, a strange knowing smile.

"I saw it Bootstrap." He said quietly, as if he sensed that William needed some sort of reassurance. Bootstrap replied with a simple shrug. The entire crew had seen it, he didn't need to be in league with Barbossa. He approached the first mate as Barbossa beckoned him with a bony finger. The man quickly glanced around to ensure no one was near, and leaned in to William.

"Might want te' find the Captain though Bill. Seemed mighty scared when he took off. Maybe not as confident with this whole new set o' circumstance eh? Maybe needs a bit of a talkin' to, as it were."

William shrugged again. "Jack has his own way of dealing with things Barbossa."

Barbossa nodded, "Aye that he does alrigh.' Good thing he be looking after the interest of the gents from the safety of his cabin then eh?" He laughed and William walked away. God he hated that man. But although he hated to admit it, Barbossa did have a point. That ship had everyone spooked for the few minutes it had been visible. If the scare stories were beginning to unfold as rumour suggested, Jack would need to get his head together for the nights to come. There could be far worse things out there, William thought, than a sudden storm and a ship that appeared and disappeared as it saw fit. And they needed Jack to be up there, taking charge, being his usual self, reassuring these idiots who were too stupid to know better. Not hiding out in his cabin.

William headed towards the Captain's cabin but as he reached the top of the steps, he saw that Jack had opened the door and was peering round it.

"It's gone Jack."

"Oh good, no worries then." Jack strode out of the cabin confidently and met his friend at the top of the steps. William nodded towards Barbossa, still at the wheel with Pintel, Ragetti, Twigg and a few others crowded round him.

"You want ta watch that one Jack. He's already bin' sayin' that you bein' in there was a bad move. Tryin' to make yeh look bad. They'll believe him they will, slack jawed idiots."

Jack grinned his lopsided trademark grin, "You worry too much my friend. Come and join me at the wheel, have a drink o' rum and celebrate the passin' of that terrible storm." Jack looked around him, frowned and then added, "Could have been much worse ye know. It wasn't obvious William, but I don' mind tellin' yeh I was a bit worried back there…."

William stayed put as Jack swaggered to the wheel. He watched Barbossa carefully. The first mate saluted Jack as he took over once more with his compass, the earlier panic and worry all but forgotten now. He strode off with his friends in tow and passed by William as they walked the deck.

"Everything an equal share but not the bearin's oh no, well thas' not good enough is it gents, its in all our interests to…." Out of earshot, William would not find out tonight what it was in Barbossa's "interests" to do.

William took a few deep breaths and surveyed the surroundings carefully. The first mate was up to no good, William would bet a tavern's worth of rum on it. He didn't like Jack Sparrow as much as he was making out, that much was obvious from the way he was talking about him to the crew. And that couldn't be a good thing. Jack was a trusting fool and his brain was fogged with thoughts of the treasure from the bloody island of death and god knows what else was there, waiting for them.

William had to do something. He needed to find out what Barbossa was up to. And that was going to mean trying to befriend the man.

TBC