Note:

The story takes place about 1 year after the 3rd film, and Jack has been able to get his Black Pearl back. I'm trying to stay in character, and that's why I'm ignoring Jack Sparrow from the 5th film. He was odd in the last one …

There is a second part to this story. Quite a long fanfic, I guess. Started a long time ago, when the 2nd film was in theatres. This first part of the story, however, is finished. Suggestions for improvement, criticism, etc. are always welcome. Have fun and I hope some of you can enjoy.

Captain Jack Sparrow sat bored at the table in his cabin, staring blankly at the map in front of him. If there was one thing Jack hated profoundly, it was an uneventful day. And if there was anything he hated even more abysmally, it was a seemingly endless string of those days. Still, there was simply nothing to do.

He circled his finger over the yellowed paper again, keeping his eyes closed. When the door opened and Gibbs entered, it pointed to Tortuga. Playing sheepishly with his hands, Gibbs stepped towards Jack.

"Sir? Are we heading somewhere?"

A fine smile played around Jack's features.

"I don't know if it's fate or the fact that we have no more rum on board. Tortuga would be a good choice now. Don't you think?"

"Aye." Gibbs was about to leave again, but his captain held him back.

"Hold on, Gibbs. What the hell is going on with my crew lately? Apart from the circumstances, I am aware of."

"Well, yes, sir. I think it's because we've been sailing around aimlessly for four weeks, have no rum and don't know what we're doing," Gibbs answered his captain's question truthfully.

"Those were the circumstances I am aware of," Jack said with a sigh, grimaced and stood up.

Together they went onto the deck and Jack stood behind the steering wheel. Astonished, he looked around.

"Gibbs? I can't help but notice something missing here."

"Rum?" asked Gibbs hopefully.

"Yeah ... no. I mean, why is there no one on deck?"

"Um … the crew is playing dice downstairs," his counterpart timidly returned.

"What? What are they doing?" with these words, Jack stormed downstairs.

Upset, he stood in front of his four-man crew and gasped like a fish on land.

"When I count to three, every single one of you will be up on deck doing something useful! Aye?"

"But you said yourself that we should do what we want, and you don't care," Ragetti objected uncomprehendingly.

Jack glared at him with scorn.

"One … two …, " he began to count aloud.

Marty, Cotton, Pintel and Ragetti ran upstairs as fast as they could, leaving their terribly moody captain alone.

Far away from the Black Pearl, a small ship headed for Port Royal was sailing on the ocean. Rachel stood at the railing and looked out over the calm sea, lost in thought. She was torn.

On the one hand, she was happy to be back home in two days, and yet she was giving up people who meant a lot to her, and also England had become more familiar to her than Jamaica ever was.

She had a slightly queasy feeling. What have changed in the seven years she had spent in England? She had kept in touch with the Governor – her uncle and surrogate father at the same time – by letter, but that was not the same as being on the scene. Especially as … she had received bad news from Elizabeth, and she had not been able to be there to say goodbye to him.

There were some things she wanted to undo when she found out he had died. She knew how much she had stretched his patience. The Governor had wanted a connection with a noble family, and she should have pleased the prospective Marquess. Rachel's hands closed tighter around the railing at this thought. The son of the Marquess! An abomination beyond comparison. How could she have managed to please him when she could not muster an ounce of respect for him?

Governor Swann had addressed all his disappointment to her in a letter, hoping that would change her mind. He had known she had a mind of her own and had done her an immense favour by getting his old friend – Professor Clark – to give her a lesson in history and specifically the ancient world three evenings a week. As a woman, she was not allowed to study officially …

Of course, she had felt guilty about it, but Rachel had flatly refused to get along with the ideal candidate who was so repugnant to her. Condescending, unsympathetic, cruel and bored – that had been her first and only impression of the man.

In general, it went against all her beliefs and values to simply be forced into a marriage. No, Governor Swann had had to abandon his plan, and so her stay in England had turned out to be longer than expected.

Now she was brought back to Port Royal, and she suspected the search for an advantageous connection was not over. But what bothered her more was that she didn't know who this Governor Flanagan was who had taken over everything. The estate included. He offered Elizabeth and her the place, if she understood her cousin correctly. Elizabeth had kept very low profile. Once again, Rachel unfolded the last letter she had received before leaving England and began to read.

Dear Rachel,

I hope you are well and survive the cruise without too many incidents. When you arrive, I promise you will be greeted by a warm bath and hot food. I look forward to your return and hearing about all you have learned and how you enjoyed the original English life.

Love, your cousin, Elizabeth.

Rachel had to smile to herself. Indeed, a bath and real food – she missed that not only once a day.

She remembered how Elizabeth and she used to sneak around old Mr Brown's forge when they were little girls. And all because Elizabeth was in love with Will at the time. Will Turner! – How often had Rachel had to listen to how wonderful he was.

Elizabeth had hinted at something in a letter, and Rachel was eager to know if her suspicions about this were correct.

She was jolted out of her thoughts by a soldier.

"Are you on the lookout for pirates, Miss Swann?" the man asked teasingly.

Rachel only looked at him briefly, then sadly lowered her gaze and shook her head.

Pirates were a painful subject for her. Her real father, the governor's brother, was killed by such outlaws.

"What are you doing here on deck? Go downstairs. A woman would be better off there. Or are you seasick?"

The soldier burst out laughing at his own bad joke, while she carefully repacked the letter.

For Rachel, he had thus crossed a line, and she eagerly maintained her boundaries. Throwing all her manners overboard, she grabbed the insolent soldier and pulled him towards her.

"Firstly, what I do here on deck is entirely my problem and secondly, it's none of your business whether I'm seasick or not. Do you understand?" she hissed at him indignantly.

The soldier was about to nod when he looked up into the sky and made a startled face. As if from nowhere, huge black clouds appeared and announced a heavy thunderstorm.

"Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to go below deck after all."

Still angry, Rachel rushed past him and ran down the stairs.

Fortunately, the Black Pearl reached Tortuga's harbour after another three days. The mood of the crew improved abruptly.

"Mr. Cotton, Marty! You stay on board and guard the ship. Gibbs, you make sure the rum is topped up!" Jack distributed the tasks.

"Aye, sir!" grinning, Gibbs walked away.

"What should we two do?" asked Pintel pointing to himself and Ragetti.

"You buy an eye patch for Ragetti and then take over from Marty and Cotton," Jack said, and then walked unerringly towards one of Tortuga's many bars.

When the not very choosy captain reached the first one, he went straight in.

Satisfied, he dropped into a chair and ordered a bottle of rum. His dark eyes roamed around the large hall. No, Tortuga hadn't changed.