And Then They Made Me Their Chief . . . A Jack the Cartographer Story

Chapter 2: Jack's Adventures in Tahiti

By: Rogue-Slayer13

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Summary: What the bloody hell was Jack talking about when he was on the dock with Murtogg and Mullroy?

Note: This chapter is going to switch between what's really happening and Jack's narration/flashbacks. Text in all italics is what's really happening aboard the ship

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"Many years ago, when I was just a lad, no older then eleven, I was working as a cartographer's apprentice . . ." Jack got a far off look in his eye as he began his tale.

"Is this really relevant?" asked Murtogg.

"Is it relevant that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west?" asked Jack as he swaggered about the deck. "No, but it makes for a good story."

Murtogg and Mullroy exchanged glances before turning their attention back to Jack.

"As I was saying. Many years ago, when I was just a lad, I was as a cartographer's apprentice in Portugal-"

"Portugal?" asked Mullroy.

"I'll never finish this story if y' keep interrupting me," commented Jack. "Now where was I? Oh yes, Portugal." Jack smiles fondly at the memory.

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A young Jack Sparrow sauntered through the streets of Portugal, several rolls of parchment tucked under one arm. Although he was British by birth, Jack had spent the last several years living in Portugal under the care of Mr.Xavier Haversham. His parents sent him to live with Mr. Haversham in hopes that he would become a great cartographer once he was grown, so far all it had done was instill in him a desire to see all the places Mr. Haversham put on his maps.

"Ah Jack, there you are," said a kindly man in a manwig, as Jack entered the map shop. "I see you brought the parchment I asked for, was there any trouble getting it?"

"No sir," replied Jack as he sat the parchment down on the table.

"That's good," said Mr. Haversham as he put the parchment into a large leather satchel. "We'll need all the parchment we can get."

"Why's that?" asked Jack as he looked at Mr. Haversham curiously.

"Why for our trip, my dear boy!" exclaimed Mr. Haversham. "We're going to the wonderful and majestic island of Tahiti!"

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"The wonderful and majestic island of Tahiti?" questioned Murtogg sarcastically. "Why in the blazes would you go to Tahiti?"

Jack eyed the sailor to see if he was serious and then looked at him as if he were an idiot once he was certain that he was in fact being serious.

"How else do you suppose one's to map out a region other than by traveling to said region and mapping it out?" replied Jack. "Haversham and I were to travel aboard the Adventurer, a merchant ship bound for Port au Prince. We were to travel to Haiti and then board another ship bound for Singapore, which would take us to Tahiti along the way."

"So you helped make maps of Tahiti?" asked Mullroy, genuinely interested in Jack's tale.

Jack sighed and looked down at the deck, a tear glistening in his eye.

"Sadly, we never even made it to Port au Prince," said Jack. "We met some bad weather off the coast of Banjul, and the Adventurer sank."

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Jack stood on the deck of the Adventurer, bracing himself against the wind and waves that battered the ship from all sides. The deck was slick with sea water and Jack was soaked to the bone, as was everyone else on deck. The ship was lurching violently from side to side with the force of the waves, and several times Jack was certain he saw the bow of the ship disappear completely under the water, only to reappear a few moments later.

"All hands on deck!" shouted the Captain over the wind, as any men who had remained below deck now hurried out onto the ship's deck.

A particularly strong gust of wind managed to blow the jib and fore staysail loose, causing them to flap wildly in the wind and get tangled up in the foresail and flying jib.

"Batten those down before they rip loose!" ordered the Captain.

Jack watched in fascination as the men climbed out onto the bowsprit to try and secure the wayward sails. It was at this time that Mr. Haversham managed to make his way, slipping and sliding, over to Jack.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," exclaimed Mr. Haversham. "It isn't safe for to be out here on deck. Come back below deck before you get washed over board." Mr. Haversham took Jack by the arm and began leading him away from the deck railing.

This is where I want to be. Thought Jack. Living a life of adventure on the high seas.

Just then lightning struck the mizzenmast, igniting the mainsail on fire. Jack watched as the crew frantically tried to put out the flames only to have them spread to foresail and deck. Soon the entire ship was in flames, despite the grueling rain and waves that threw themselves at the ship.

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"What happened after the ship caught fire?" asked Mullroy.

"I'd tell y' if you'd stop interrupting me," commented Jack, slighting annoyed.

"Sorry."

"Right, where was I? Ah yes, the Adventurer caught fire and sank off the coast of Banjul. The fire quickly spread below deck where it ignited a keg of gunpowder that the ship was carrying. I only survived because I managed to cling to a piece of floating debris . . ."

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Jack clung to the door from the Captain's quarters for dear life. After the mizzenmast and sails had caught fire the rest of the ship was engulfed as well, including the hold. It wasn't long after that until the Adventurer exploded, sending crew and cargo in every direction. Jack tried his best to stay awake, but fatigued soon overcame him and he drifted into unconsciousness.

Jack awoke several hours later to find himself lying on a beach. He slowly got to his feet and surveyed his surroundings. The beach extended as far as the eye could see in both direction and was dotted with palm trees. Pieces of the Adventurer were floating in the sea and occasionally a piece or two would wash ashore.

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"What island was it?" asked Mullroy, interrupting Jack once again and earning him an annoyed glare.

"How the bloody 'ell am I supposed to know?" asked Jack.

"Well, you were stranded on it," pointed out Murtogg.

"It was uncharted," informed Jack. "No one had ever been to the island before except for the natives."

"Natives?" asked the sailors with interest.

"Yes, the natives," said Jack. "They were wee little people, sort of like Pygmies . . . only smaller."

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Jack had been wandering along the coastline for what seemed to have been just a few minutes, but was probably closer to an hour when suddenly he tripped and hit his head on a rock.

"Bugger," cursed Jack as darkness consumed him.

Jack awoke several hours later to find that the sun had already set and that he was no longer on the shore, but instead he had been moved inland and was stretched out next to a bonfire. Gathered all around the bonfire were people, all of whom were shorter then five feet in height.

"This is not good," Jack commented to himself as he rose to his feet and noticed that many of the people were armed. "Not good at all."

As Jack said this a man who was holding a jar, stepped forward and offered the jar to Jack, who took it cautiously. The man motioned for Jack to drink out of the jar and Jack looked down at the jar's contents suspiciously and then back up at the man.

"You first." Jack pointed to the jar and motioned for the man to take a drink.

The man did so without hesitating, and Jack studied him for several moments. When he was throughly convinced that the jar's contents weren't lethal, Jack took the jar back from the man.

"Cheers," commented Jack as he took a drink.

The sweet liquid burned its way down the back of Jack's throat, and he savored its intoxicating aroma. Jack quickly took several more drinks of the sweet ambrosia, feeling quite giddy as the effects of the drink began to catch up to him. Despite his impaired motor skills and speech, Jack felt absolutely joyful, so much in fact that he felt like singing.

It was at that moment that Jack's life long affair with rum began.

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"And how'd these people manage to get rum shipments to an uncharted island?" asked Mullroy.

"They didn't," replied Jack. "They made their own. Sweetest tasting rum in the whole world, mates. Trust me, I know."

"Weren't you a bit young for all that drinking?" asked Murtogg.

"One's never to young to experience the joys of rum." Jack stated as he leaned against the railing of the Interceptor.

"How were you on the island?" asked Mullroy.

"I spent three years on that island, living with the natives, learning their language, partaking in their rituals and culture."

"And what happened after the three years?" asked Murtogg curiously.

"Obviously, I got off of the island." Jack said this as if it were the only logical answer and that one would have to be an idiot not to have surmised as much on their own.

The two sailors looked at Jack expectantly, and he looked back at them with no sign that he was going to add anything to his previous statement.

"How exactly did you get off of the island?" prodded Murtogg, interested in Jack's story despite himself.

"A merchant ship ran a shore in stormy weather," informed Jack. "Luckily, the ship wasn't damaged and I lent me services in making her seaworthy again. When we were done making the repairs, the Captain offered to take me the rest of the way to Port au Prince as payment for fixing the ship."

"So . . . you did make it to Tahiti after all then?"

Jack took a deep breath and then sighed.

"Unfortunately not," Jack said. "Once I reached Port au Prince I was offered a spot aboard the Devil's Revenge, the scourge of the East . . ."

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To Be Continued . . .

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