At the very front of the bow, telescope in hand, Jack stood gazing at the solid-looking cloud towers looming in front of them in diminishing distance, sliced by forked lightning.

He closed his eyes and breathed in the clearest air there could be – driven directly by a thunderstorm. From the distance, thunder rumbled across the sky with a metallic sound. Jack grinned.

"Captain! Maintain course?" asked Ragetti, who came running to him.

"If I want to change course, I'll make sure Master Gibbs finds out."

Ragetti nodded and hurried back to the wheel to tell Gibbs just that.

Jack looked again at the thunderstorm front. The weather was best enjoyed from a distance, and he was only too happy to do so.

Thunderstorms at sea were no comparison to those experienced on land. For such a spectacle, only the infinity of the horizon could be anywhere near enough. The sound of thunder and the unreal darkness illuminated by flashes of light would never lose their fascination for him.

Jack was optimistic that they would get through without any problems, and he wanted to save time and stay on the direct route.

The wind picked up and Jack lifted the telescope. There was no storm in the centre of the thunderstorm. Elevated, crashing waves and rain were all that awaited them. Jack put the telescope away and walked across the deck, looking closely at the sails.

Gibbs had also welcomed the cooling that the thunderstorm ahead of them brought. Then Ms. Swann had appeared and asked him to drive around the storm.

"There is no need to worry. We're going through and everything is fine."

"That's what the men I was last travelling with to Port Royal thought, too. Only they had no choice because the storm broke out directly above us," she said forcefully.

Gibbs had never asked Jack where he had picked up the woman. In most cases, he didn't really want to know.

"Didn't end well?" he asked.

Ms. Swann turned towards the bow and she kneaded her hands.

"Somehow the ship caught fire … there were screams everywhere … my memory is not reliable as to exactly what happened. The ship sank. That's good enough for me."

The swell increased, and Ms Swann had to cling to the wheel to keep her balance.

"I beg you, Master Gibbs."

Her voice – which had just slowly sunk to a whisper – became much louder and higher with the request.

Pity stirred in Gibbs. Being on a sinking ship was an experience he felt could very well be spared.

He didn't know how to reassure her, so it came as a welcome surprise that his captain came prancing up the stairs to the quarterdeck.

Jack Sparrow very rarely and on the fewest occasions let loose his truly innocent smile on the world. Thunderstorm and the Pearl managed to elicit it from him, and even then it was unlikely that anyone would see him with it. He liked to keep it to himself.

When Jack reached the top of the stairs, the joyful smile disappeared and he grimaced.

"What are you doing here?" he asked Ms. Swann.

He couldn't stop his sweeping movements, and so Gibbs knew nothing could spoil Jack Sparrow's exhilaration now. Good, then he could take care of Ms. Swann.

"Jack, Ms. Swann is worried about the thunderstorm," Gibbs said, raising his eyebrows meaningfully.

"Worries? No, not at all! I want you to drive around this thunderstorm!" she corrected him.

The meaningful raised eyebrows had worked better before.

Briefly, Jack looked back and forth between Ms. Swann and Gibbs, petrified, and then he laughed silently at the woman.

"Thunderstorm? That's some music, water from above and twitching lights," Jack said, his fingers swirling in the air as if imitating lightning.

A sense of tact did not just fall into his hands when he was just bubbling over with anticipation, displaying the mental maturity of a little boy. Then, even Gibbs found it hard to trust in Jack's abilities as a sailor.

Ms. Swann's knuckles turned white, and she gripped the wheel even tighter as the waves were piled higher by the wind. Rain fell on the deck and the next rumble of thunder no longer sounded far away, but so close that it vibrated in the planks. Ms. Swann winced and then looked angrily at Jack.

"Master Gibbs, why are you still standing here? Nothing is tied down below deck yet, the hatches are open, and the lady here should be taken below to a cabin before she is dripping wet."

Gibbs swallowed objections. He had already thought about reefing the sails in this wind, and thinking about it was the perfect moment to really reef. Jack stretched it always to the limit and Gibbs had not only once became afraid that the sails would be damaged …

"Jack, I'll take care of everything … Ms. Swann is your guest, why don't you take care of her?"

"Good one," Jack said, casually tapping his hat.

Gibbs tried to lead Ms. Swann downstairs, but by then she was already lifting her hands defensively and had to fight to keep her balance with lunges.

"No need. I can find my own way, thank you."

Once again, Gibbs looked back at Jack, who waved unconcernedly at him, and then followed Ms. Swann down the steps below deck.

Before she disappeared into his cabin, he stopped her.

"Don't worry about it. We know exactly what we do. We know the weather and the Pearl. Faster than you can realise, we'll be leaving the storm behind us again."

A flash of lightning briefly gave enough light to show the fear in her eyes. The heavy rumble of the Pearl as the bow hit the surface again after a high-pitched wave did the rest, and Ms. Swann clutched helplessly at the door frame.

Gibbs had seen enough young and inexperienced sailors get caught in a storm with the same look on their faces. It made no difference that she was a wealthier lady – he knew what it meant: the desire not to be left alone.

"Make sure nothing loose falls on you, and I'll send someone to check on you," Gibbs said and hurried on to the next deck.

If he were captain … he would know exactly who he would order having a look after her.

The Pearl had survived the thunderstorm unscathed. Ms. Swann was huffy, and Gibbs thought it was because she was a little in shock.

He was just on his way to the wheel and listened briefly at his cabin. It was completely quiet, she must be on deck. Gibbs shrugged his shoulders and climbed the next flight of stairs.

Jack was just closing his compass with satisfaction when Gibbs joined him and took the wheel.

For a while now, Jack had been leaving this task to him more and more often in the evenings, and that puzzled Gibbs. Jack reluctantly gave up the wheel of the Pearl and only did so when he wanted to sleep or rest. Recently, this has frequently been the case.

Sighing, he looked after Jack, who descended the stairs and sauntered over to Ms. Swann, who was standing further forward at the railing. Jack's idea of rest had shifted a little …

Gibbs ran his hand over his head. He had known Jack for years and as much as the captain's ever-shining madness made it hard to really know him – no, Jack almost never revealed what he was really thinking – that was why you couldn't know him.

Their time together had taught Gibbs a thing or two about Jack, nonetheless. So he was sure, something had happened between Ms. Swann and Jack on the island. From Tortuga onwards, Jack had wooed her as he liked to do – shamelessly and offensively. Jack specifically sought her proximity, and she panicked and fled below deck to Gibbs' cabin.

Gibbs' teeth gritted. Why had she been given his cabin? Usually, Jack would then gaze after her with a grin. This fitted into one of the many images Gibbs had of Jack when it came to women – deliberately pushy and provocative, completely unimpressed when he didn't succeed and never discouraged to continue. Jack simply didn't care if there was something in it for him or not.

But something had changed since that trip to the island … since that day, Ms. Swann's dismissal of the Pearl's men no longer seemed quite so convincing, and Jack's behaviour towards the woman had also changed. He no longer just manoeuvred her into situations from which she fled. Rather, Gibbs could observe how Jack kept her company at the railing several times a day and how conversations between them developed more and more often, and she did not avoid him.

After the thunderstorm, Gibbs had suspected she would become more dismissive again. Now, as he watched the two of them talking to each other again as if nothing had happened, Gibbs frowned.