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Jack saw Elizabeth fall to her knees as he got to his feet himself. The Lochinvar was for the most part gone; all that remained was a large section of the hull, which was floating off to one side. He knew when that last piece sunk beneath the dark waters, and when he saw Elizabeth bury her face in her palms, that Will Turner would not be pulling off some miraculous escape. What had he done?

"Mr. Gibbs," Jack called, his voice low and resigned, and his first mate was there in an instant. "See to it that if Mr. Turner can be found, it is so." The Captain's face was grim as he stepped down from the helm and onto the main deck. The sound of a woman in anguish drifted toward him as he moved toward the bow of the Balinor. She wasn't crying, he realized as he came to stand a few feet behind her. Instead, she was speaking softly in a language he could not decipher. Suddenly, she stood and whirled around, her expression unreadable.

"You killed them Jack Sparrow!" she screamed, and he took a step back with a stupefied look on his face. "You killed them all! You killed Will—a friend! You killed a friend!"

The dark haired man's face flashed in an emotion that Elizabeth couldn't define. Anger, but regret hinted as well? She couldn't help but think that the Captain had planned this—after all, Will had been interfering with she and Jack's relationship. But at this thought, he mind reprimanded her.

There was no relationship between them.

"Young missy," Jack snapped back at her, wrenching his eyes off her and out to where the Lochinvar had once been. "Surely you cannot be laying the blame entirely on me, here? After all, Mr. Turner didn't see us here on the Balinor either."

Elizabeth glared at him.

"I would have expected that the famous Captain Jack Sparrow would've been more intelligent than he has shown himself to be," she said with a tense look. "Crashing nearly headlong into his own ship, commanded by a friend, and—" she choked, "—killing him." The woman turned her back on him, and Jack pulled his pistol out, aiming at the back of her head without her notice. He clenched his teeth and slipped it back into its holster, and then strode off to calm himself.

"Blasted women!" he muttered once he was alone. "Nag, nag, nag! Can't never please 'em!" The pirate plopped down on the deck. "But oh, why'd you have to go like ye did right in front of her Will? Bloody stupid, you are! Bloody stupid I was," he added as an afterthought. Glancing to his right, Jack saw a loose board on the deck, and quite abruptly jabbed the heel of his boot against one end. The opposite end rose upward and revealed a collection of bottles of rum. Jack pulled one out and examined it intently. "'Ello lovely." An expression of adoration crossed his features, and he took a long swallow.

A moment later the Balinor creaked and titled slightly, making its captain slide and drop his rum.

"What the blazes is going on?" he cried, managing to get his feet beneath him and chase clumsily after his rum. "Get back here y'devil! I won't lose you! No burning either! No lassies set on burnin' you up, I promise!"

To the watchful eye, the captain must have appeared quite drunk. Of course, being that he was Captain Jack Sparrow, he likely was drunk. He retrieved his precious drink, and then ran to see why the ship was tilting again. Gibbs was standing by the rail as he approached. The sails still lingered on the horizon where Jack had first seen them.

"Gentlemen!" he roared, and all those about the ship turned to look at him. "This is the third close call we've had with this here ship. And this is the third bit of luck that's found us. We cannot afford any more run-ins with other vessels." Jack paused, glancing around at the tired expressions on the men's faces. "An' that is precisely why we must continue on course to that ship out there."

The crew followed his pointing finger, and saw the sails. The majority of them didn't understand the logic that was Jack's, but not many of them were bold enough to question him. Besides, they had been under his command for long enough to know that he always had his reasons for doing what he did. The tilt of the ship was suddenly resolved, and Jack's face broke into a smirk.

"Well get on with it!" he commanded, gesturing wildly to the Balinor. His crew scuttled off to their duties, and the Captain quite suddenly found himself about to be slapped across the face by Elizabeth. Catching her hand and surprisingly them both, he was the first to speak. "Now before you hasten to hand me over to the Commodore and have me strung up by me neck, just listen for a sec!"

Elizabeth shot him a deathglare, but complied, reluctantly pulling her hand out of his grip. Jack's face split into a sly smile at seeing he was once again in control of her.

"Young William's fate is most regrettable," he began, casting his eyes downward. "And don't think for a minute that I'm being disrespectful by sailin' on to what I really wanted t'find. Missy, you and I both know Will would have hated to see us moping around because of him."

"So you're going after another ship that's probably dangerous, so we can all get killed? Is that it, Captain Sparrow?" Elizabeth asked, tapping her foot in a very feminine manner. "You feel the need to try your luck a fourth time?"

Jack grinned.

"Aye."

"You're daft, Jack."

He leaned closer to her.

"Curiosity never was a sin, love," the man replied darkly, and Elizabeth had the distinct feeling he meant it in more ways than one. Their eyes met briefly, before Jack did a slight bow and walked back up to the helm. The sails still sat idly on the horizon.