Tortuga was just as I remembered it: loud, dirty, and very chaotic, with an overabundance of drunken pirates, wenches, and all manner of other seedy types. A perfect place to pick up a few extra souls. Jack and I sat in a tavern, trying to make his compass co-operate. He leaned back in a chair with his feet up on the table, while I sat cross-legged on the table top, careful of the candles burning beside me and Jack's tin mug of rum. A lively band was playing and Gibbs was stationed at a nearby table, recruiting men to join the Black Pearl's crew.
"And what makes you think you're worthy to crew the Black Pearl?" Gibbs asked the first man in line. I listened in on them half-heartedly, keeping my attention divided between the irate Jack Sparrow and the recruitment going on.
"Truth be told, I've never sailed a day in my life," the man confessed, his long grayish white hair hanging down as he leaned on a staff. "I figured I should get out and see the world while I'm still young."
I smiled and shook my head. Gibbs smiled too; a professional twist of the lips, though he was probably resisting the urge to snicker. "You'll do," he told the man. He gestured to the papers and pen at his table. "Make your mark." Then, as the first man did so, Gibbs looked to the next man in line. "Next!"
Beside me, Jack furiously shook the compass. He was getting very frustrated, opening and closing it again and again to check if the needle would hold steady. I leaned over and placed my hand on the compass, momentarily gaining his attention. "Jack, did you ever think that Tia was right? That the compass won't work because deep down, you really don't want what it is that you want most in this world?" Jack gave me a dark look in response. I shrugged and went back to watching Gibbs.
The next man in line had a tragic tale indeed. "My wife ran off with my dog, and I'm drunk for a month, and I don't give an ass rats' if I live or die."
"Perfect!" Gibbs declared cheerily. "Next!"
I heard Jack muttering to himself, his eyes closed as he focused with all his strength. "I know what I want, I know what I want, I know what I want…"
The next man in line was tall and dark skinned. "Me have one arm and a bum leg," he rumbled, though he didn't appear to be very remorseful about it.
"It's the crow's nest for you," Gibbs told him wisely. "Next!"
"I know what I want!" Jack growled to the compass. He opened it again, a hopeful expression on his scruffy face, and had no more luck than he had before. He scowled and snapped it closed again.
"Ever since I was a little lad," the next man in Gibbs' line recalled. "I've always wanted to sail the seas… forever."
"Sooner than you think," Gibbs said with a wink. "Sign the roster."
"Thanks very much," the new crew member said as he made his mark at the bottom of the list.
"How we going?" Jack asked Gibbs.
"Including those four, that gives us… four," Gibbs answered, not entirely pleased. After all, he was the one doing all the recruiting work there.
He looked to the next man who stepped up to the table. My eyes widened as I recognized him. It was tricky to at first, but his voice made it easier.
"And what's your story?" Gibbs asked him.
"My story…" the man slurred. "It's exactly the same as your story, only one chapter behind." I realized the truth in this, as both these men were once in the navy, but had left that life for dishonest sailing for one reason or another.
"I chased a man across the seven seas," the man continued. Jack snapped the compass closed, recognizing the voice and feeling a twinge of apprehension. "The pursuit cost me my crew, my commission, and my life." The man reached for a bottle of rum sitting on Gibbs' table and took a swig from it.
Gibbs himself had also recognized the man by now. "Commodore?"
It was indeed Norrington, though he was a Commodore no longer. He still had his royal blue navy coat, but it was dirty and tattered. He still had the powdered wig as well, but it was completely ruined. He was filthy, drunk, and obviously wanting revenge.
"No, not anymore! Weren't you listening?" he snapped, lowering his bottle and glaring at Gibbs.
I turned to a nervous-looking Jack. "I think it would be wise for us to move."
Jack nodded and uprooted a potted plant behind which to hide himself as he slunk away. Back at the table, Norrington leaned in towards Gibbs, and spoke in a harsh whisper. "I nearly had you all off Tripoli. I would have, if not for the hurricane."
Gibbs was shocked. "Lord, you didn't try to sail through it?" I sighed. Obviously, because of his increasing desperation to catch Jack Sparrow, he had, and it had cost him everything.
Jack and I tried to be as inconspicuous as we could as we snuck around to the other side of the tavern. Unfortunately for Jack, I had a much easier time being inconspicuous.
"So do I make your crew, or not?" I heard Norrington ask. Gibbs looked around for Jack, trying to think. "You haven't said where you're going," Norrington noted, reaching the end of his rope. "Somewhere nice?" he shouted, finally seeming to completely snap as he upended the table.
Gibbs fell backwards off his chair and everything clattered to the floor. The music stopped as the other patrons in the tavern noticed the commotion Norrington had caused. A few ladies gasped. "So am I worthy to serve under Captain Jack Sparrow?" Norrington demanded the crowd, arms spread wide. His speech was really directed to the man he knew was hiding and trying, very unsuccessfully I might add, to escape unnoticed.
As if to prove this, Norrington took his pistol from his belt and pointed it in Jack's direction. Jack froze, seeing Norrington out of the corner of his eye. I held my breath and moved myself between the two, hoping that I wouldn't have to take a bullet for Jack. I was prepared to anyway, just in case. It was drastic, yes, but part of the job. "Or should I just kill you now?" Norrington sneered.
Jack was also already half hidden behind a wooden pillar. He knew that the pillar held better protection than the tall plant he still held, so he tried to fully duck behind it. Norrington followed his movements, keeping his aim on his pirate enemy steady. Jack moved back and fourth a few times, and seeing no escape from his aim, he smiled what he hoped was his best smile.
"You're hired."
"Sorry," Norrington said unsympathetically, still ready to shoot. "Old habits and all that."
Jack was saved by two of his new recruits who jumped in and grabbed Norrington, forcing his aim upwards.
"Easy sailor!" one shouted.
"That's our captain you're threatening," the other added. I nearly sighed, realizing the irony of these people pledging themselves to a captain that only wanted them aboard his ship so he could hand them over to Davy Jones. Jack saw his chance to escape and took it, ducking once again out of view with me close behind.
The fight for control over Norrington's pistol resulted in it discharging into the air above the crowd. The bullet ricocheted off of the chandelier above Norrington's head and hit a mug just as a man was drinking from it. The man was unharmed, but startled. Suddenly finding himself without a drink, and already quite drunk, he did the next best thing that came to mind: he punched the man standing beside him.
That's all it took for a full-blown bar fight to break out. It was a blessing in disguise, though, as it allowed Jack to escape from Norrington and his trigger finger. I was amused by the fact that the band picked up again and played a merry jig throughout the entire fight.
Jack plopped the plant into an open barrel and called to Gibbs, who was hiding behind his over-turned table. "Time to go!"
"Aye!" Gibbs agreed, scampering to Jack's side.
Jack, Gibbs and I picked our way through the individual fights that made up the one big brawl. My main goal, other than not to be separated from Jack, was to avoid having anyone pass through me by mistake. There was so much chaos all around me, it was hard to notice any particular details of the fighting, though I did take note of a man who had jumped off of the second story railing and was swinging from the chandelier.
Jack led us towards the stairs and started to climb them. He narrowly missed having his head struck by a flying bottle of rum that smashed against the wall. Instead, he picked up a discarded tri-corn hat and tried it on for size. I smiled a bit as I recognized what he was trying to do; he was attempting to replace the original hat he had lost. However, none of the ones he tried on seemed to fit or suit him quite right. Each hat that he sampled, he tried to place on the head of a passing man engaged in drunken battle.
At the top of the stairs, Jack swapped hats with a drunk sitting on the edge of the balcony and patted him on the shoulder. "Thanks, mate." This slight motion caused the man to tip over the side and fall to the floor below. It should have been terrible, but I actually found it quite amusing.
Jack still wasn't satisfied with the new hat he had and took it off. Two men were just about to throw a third off the balcony and Jack and I stepped into their path. We all paused, and Jack placed the hat onto the head of the doomed man and stepped back. "Carry on," Jack said, allowing the others to toss the drunk over. Then Jack, Gibbs and I moved to the back of the inn and found our way outside.
"Shame you couldn't find another hat to replace your old one, Jack," I remarked. He 'mmm'ed softly, agreeing.
"Now what?" Gibbs asked his captain.
"Now we gather up our new crew and stock the ship with supplies," Jack ordered as we headed down toward the docks.
"But Cap'n, we don't have ninety-nine souls yet," Gibbs reminded him.
Jack looked to me. I shrugged. "We did our best, but there's no way we were going to get that many. We just have to move on."
"We'll have to make due," Jack replied to Gibbs. "Come on."
As we walked, I could hear the fight in the tavern began to die down in the background. I sighed softly, thinking of two particular new crew members and what events would unfold because of their presence on the Black Pearl.