Black
Pearl Tales
is the official archive of
Black Pearl Sails
and Black Pearl Library.
Pirates of the Caribbean
is the property of the
Disney Corporation.
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a Challenge:
Ship's Names
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By Sylvia ~ Sea's Madness ~ The pirate ship had been aptly named, Jack mused, watching it slide under the water from the safety of his ship's rail. Masts destroyed, and no sweepers the Sea's Madness had been adrift for twenty-three days. Whoever had attacked the ship had left it, and her crew, for dead with holes in her hull that should have sunk her long ago. Cannon had breached her water barrels, and the rum had left her crew dehydrated to the point of madness. Piracy was an uncertain business that was for sure. Jack vowed never to let that happen to his beloved Pearl. By Geek Mama ~ The Guardian ~ Damaged and adrift, the Pearl lay helpless as the frigate approached. Jack would have thought her beautiful, if he'd been unaware of the deck of twenty-four guns, hidden now, but ready for use against his kind. There was an air of subdued panic as his crew took up arms. Had they survived the tempest, only to be caught and killed, like fish in a barrel? They had not. Captain Nathaniel Goodman, former privateer, met Jack with a grin and a firm handshake, and a blessed offer of aid. Good man, indeed! And as aptly named as his ship: the Guardian. By Hellborne ~ The
Hellish Bard ~ All I said was that I liked music! Why can't this incessant bard seem to leave me alone? I really don't even care for his voice! He'd make a CROW cry! Jack shook his head. The mutilated crooning was interrupting his thought process, and that was something he couldn't allow. "Could you please leave me alone?" The screeching continued. He finally gave up. "Excuse me." He took the mandolin from the surprised bard and swung it around as hard as he could against the wall, giving the bard back what was left. "I changed me mind. I hate music." By Thalia Weaver ~ The
Grim Salve ~ He waits for the noose as one waits for sleep, lying in the dark; his brand burns, like a wound, and like all the scars he bears. Brick-walled and iron-barred, the cell closes about him, reminding him with its sheer confinement of all his loss: his love, the Pearl, and the wide-open sea--freedom gone, taken out as blood once ran from his scars. They will never disappear, and neither will the longings coursing through his veins: neither will they ever be soothed, he thinks, except by the one grim salve of rope about his neck. By Eledhwen “Well done, lad.” Thornton clapped Jack on the back. “Well done.” Jack stared down at the body on the deck; at his sword dripping blood over the clean planking. “Well done?” he said, turning his gaze to the Black Pearl’s first mate. “It was well done. He’d’ve stabbed old Josiah in the back, had you not got him. You should be proud of yourself.” “Oh.” Jack looked at his blade, and bent to wipe it on the dead man’s shirt. “Good.” Thornton nodded in a friendly manner, and moved away. Proud? Jack thought. How could anyone be proud of this?
By Arwen Lune ~ Aptly Named ~
The Boastful Traitor Jack looked at the small boat critically and shook his head. No, that wasn't it. The Peaceful James Well, hardly. Once Anamaria found out he had 'borrowed' the small vessel and sailed it off, life was unlikely to be peaceful when she found him. The Crazy That made him grin. It was perhaps a little crazy to insist on giving even this tiny boat a name. The Desecrated Rogue Well, that was him. It didn't seem fair to burden a boat with the name, Jack decided. It might take offence, and he needed its favour if he wanted to sail it to Port Royal. The First Lady That was flattering, but deep in his heart he knew that the Black Pearl would always be the First Lady. It would not be fair to promise the small vessel such a position. The Hero's Hope Bha! The hero's hope was to stay the hell away from Anamaria until her fury has dwindled, and knowing the female pirate's temper, that would take a good long while. Captain Jack Sparrow tilted his head with a sudden idea. Then he nodded to himself. That was it. He did not have paint to write it on the bow of the boat, but naming it in his head would suffice. He patted the rough wood of the mast affectionately. Ana's Fury By Hereswith ~ The Accursed Endeavor ~ His first ship had been called the Accursed Endeavour. Not his choice, but he had not bothered to change the name, had rather set out to prove it wrong. He had stood proudly on her deck, a younger man, a better man, perhaps, and not thought to fear that her memory would come back to haunt him, one day. The ship beneath his feet, this time, had a different name. She was swift and beautiful, the pearl of the sea and the apple of his eye. But this endeavour of his had, in truth, been accursed. And so had he. By Erinrua ~ Three Ship's Name Drabbles ~ Drabble One... The Alert. That was what the Navy christened her, sleek and tall as she strode across the waves. Newly-minted, she was, keen of tooth and eager-hearted in her intent to become the bane of pirates the wide seas over. A noble commission, indeed. For those as cared for commissions or nobility. Jack Sparrow, however, bared his teeth in a bullion'ed smile and gaily waved his farewells. The Alert, it seemed, was not nearly so alert as the black-hulled ship she sought. Oh, no - white spray thundered 'gainst a plunging bow as the Black Pearl took the wind in her wings. * Drabble Two... Gold Mystery was the name she bore, drifting in silence across a glassy sea. With her yards askew and her sails in tatters, she was masterless, rudderless, lost. No voice but the creak of weary timbers. No footsteps, saving perhaps small, nervous things that scuttled between her wooden bones. No movement but the ceaseless running of the sea, and the waves told no secrets. Those watching did not speak nor did they hail. Whatever she bore within her bowels, they would not board to find. Let the sea have her, ghost ship that she was, and all her dark mystery. * Drabble Three-and-a-half... They laughed when the old man announced her name: Ocean's Strumpet. An old pirate's dream, they said. She was nowt but a sloop, a creaky little craft whose hull looked more barnacles than wood. Her planks were sprung and her sails were mostly patches. Sink in the first blow, she would, and none but ol' Jonesy to wonder why. Ocean's Strumpet, aye. Yet he saw beyond her peeling paint, as long ago women saw him in youthful vigor. Unlike men, however, here paint and patching and careful hands could turn back the damage of years. He worked and hummed his creaky tunes of days of long ago. When at last the tides of spring ran high the little sloop sailed forth. Proud and gleaming, light and taut, she was true as the wind that drove her. Ocean's Strumpet crooned beneath her lover's gnarled hand. They sailed and time stood still. By Staramber ~ The Bloodthirst Witch ~ Women, women, women. Always trouble. Terrible things. Women captains, especially bad. Not the captains themselves of course. I can handle that, it's just… Anamaria. She tends to get… violent. They have this all for one thing and she gets moody and all that. It never works out well for me. Last time I found her below deck… you don't want to know. Now here comes the problem if I attack the Bloodthirst Witch and her lovely yet harmless captain Ca…Chattox. Well, she'll be all… evil. Evil. Of course, if I don't attack she'll say I'm weak. This, not good. Women. By Otherhawk ~ Conversation ~ "You should get yerself yer own ship." "You're drunk, Jack." "Tha's Captain Sp.. Spe … Tha's Captain. An' you di'int answer." "What would I do with my own ship?" "Pillage, plun'er. `Ave what we scallywags call a good time." "I'm not a pirate." "If you `ave yer own ship you can do anythin'. Go anywhere. Freedom. `s the bes' thing. Ev'ryone should `ave their own ship." "If everyone had their own ship, how would you get a crew?" "'S the name tha's important. Ships deserve a good name. Wha' would be a good thing to call your ship, I wonder?" "Jack, you're drunk and it's late." "The Unpredictable Jeffery." "WHAT?" *Snore* By Tabbycat ~ The Void Orca ~ Jack glanced absently at the other ships docked, wondering if he had a chance of running into any old friends. Tortuga was rather empty at the moment, but you never knew. He saw the name of a small schooner, painted in faded red, and paused. The Void Orca He raised an eyebrow in combined mirth and confusion. The single man on the small ship's deck—a crusty old sea dog with a huge beard that looked rather like a dead cat—saw his look and waved, grinning cheekily. Jack turned on his heel and ambled off again, shaking his head and chuckling. By Kayden Eidyak ~ The Black Sadness ~ Jack watched his mother's body being lowered into the ground next to his father's own grave. The hand of some distant relation - a great aunt, he thought, or perhaps a cousin some times removed - was rested on his shoulder. He clutched his hat to his chest and fought for control of his emotions. What would his father think if he saw him crying here in front of all these people? "Come, Jack," the woman said. "You will live with me now." Jack stared up at the woman's stern face, tightly twisted hair, and crisp black dress. She took his arm in a claw-like hand and began leading him a way. Jack twisted around, hoping for one last glimpse of his mother's pale face. "Jack, turn around straight and behave yourself," his aunt reprimanded. His mother not five minutes into the ground and this person was already scolding him, he thought with a scowl. Well, not if he had anything to say about it. He turned sharply and jerked out of her grasp. "Goodbye, Aunt," he said, folding his hand in a prayer-like manner and bowing slightly to her, before running towards the harbor for all he was worth. By EstelWolfe aka Theresa
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