"Pig!" says Jack, pointing.

"Picky!" replies the chief, whose name probably isn't Aricketycoffeecup, but he seems happy to accept that as Jack's best effort.

"Aye! Picky!" Jack grins like an idiot in acknowledgement of the chief's best effort, and waggles his head around, which seems to mean agreement.

Aricketycoffeecup waggles his head more. "Puka!" he splutters, tipping backwards with laughter.

"Puka, right. So pig is puka. Marvellous! Now we're getting somewhere." Jack laughs to show willing and scribbles "Pig = puka" on a banana leaf. He studies the leaf, takes a deep breath, and asks, "Aricketycoffeecup po bang-bang puka?" which with any luck means, "How many pigs do you have?"

Aricketycoffeecup says something Jack doesn't catch at all, but then he holds up nine fingers.

"Right," says Jack. "Aricketycoffeecup po..." He consults his leaf. "...po wanky puka."

"Yo-ey," agrees Aricketycoffeecup, waggling proudly. "Wanky puka."

"In that case," says Jack, "Telly Howee sniffle wanky puka." He points towards the beach to make it plain that "Telly Howee" (the big foreigner) means Captain Redruth rather than Ben Scroope who's got to be six foot seven standing up (but just now is sitting on a log with a naked girl in his lap).

Aricketycoffeecup looks worried, which is encouraging.

"Telly Howee sniffle koy," Jack elaborates. "Telly Howee sniffle goomuttooey. Telly Howee sniffle popeye." Meaning, he hopes, that Captain Redruth will take the food, the trees, and the sweetish, somewhat slimy, probably plant-based mash Jack and Aricketycoffeecup have been eating. "Telly Howee sniffle!" Lacking a word for "everything", he sweeps his arm around in a wide circle.

Aricketycoffeecup calls one of his lieutenants and orders, "E tu'atu'a no teti panga ta tikioki. Kua kia te puaka, no ko mai no titama pi'i."

To Jack this is "Eh twatwat no titty something ticky-ocky-quacky something puka, knocko something tit something pee." Something about pigs then.

Aricketycoffeecup turns to Jack, takes a deep breath, and enunciates carefully, "Aricketycoffeecup aroopa fanny puka."

The old bloke's getting the hang of this! Jack's leaf tells him "fanny" means "six", which leaves only one question.

"Aroopa?" he asks, willing it to mean "hide".

Aricketycoffeecup sets out some pebbles, covers them with his hand. "Aroopa!"

"Wonderful!" Jack beams. "I mean, oomah!"

A bit more messing about with pebbles establishes the plan: the small foreigners (Jack and Ben) will bring Telly Howee (the big foreigner) to see Aricketycoffeecup at a simple hut with three pigs and a store of food, everything else being safely aroopa-ed away somewhere Jack doesn't need to know about. The islanders will trade all they have for the white men's goods and show the white men where to fish. Then the white men will go away.

Seeing as Aricketycoffeecup's such a quick learner, Jack teaches the chief how to tug his forelock, nod for "yes", and shake for "no". (He reckons Redruth's never going to figure out this waggling business, and a bit of respect never does any harm.) Then he prises Ben away from his true love and they set off back to the beach.

~

Jack has to admit the Venture puts on a good show. They all change into the best clothes they have left—Redruth and Collier in brocade, braid, and big hats—and Jake plays on his whistle as they march down to the native village, which now looks sadly under-populated.

Aricketycoffeecup shuffles out of the hut, wide-eyed and markedly shabbier than the last time Jack saw him.

Redruth salutes smartly.

Aricketycoffeecup flinches.

Redruth holds out his hands, palm up, and says something about peace, prosperity, and the British Crown. He does a decent job of appearing powerful yet peaceable: Jack relaxes slightly. Then Redruth gestures for Jack and Ben to present the gifts. Aricketycoffeecup seems genuinely pleased with six yards of calico, a sailor's knife, and a couple of empty glass bottles.

"I am Captain Redruth," says Captain Redruth. He repeats it slowly and clearly, pointing to his chest.

"Aa!" says Aricketycoffeecup, and points to himself. "Ariki te Kafika."

"Ah!" says Redruth, looking to Jack for help.

"Aricketycoffeecup, sir. Seems to do the trick."

Redruth clears his throat. "Greetings, um, A Rickety Coffee Cup."

Nobody sniggers.

Aricketycoffeecup nods (good man!) and says, "Telly Howee po ofo!"

"He says greetings too, sir," explains Jack. "Telly Howee—that's their name for you. Means '~big...' er, '~big man', sir."

There's a great deal more. In the end, Redruth gets all three pigs, piles of assorted foodstuffs, permission to cut down trees, and the promise of fish and fresh greens. Aricketycoffeecup gets cloth, bottles, and tobacco, but fails to get any more knives. (Jack's not sure if that's a precaution against attack, or just that knives are in short supply.) Last, but clearly not least, he gets Mr. Collier's hat, which he will wear on important occasions for as long as Jack knows him.

Just before they part, Aricketycoffeecup seizes Captain Redruth and rubs noses. "Nana Telly Howee!" he says. "Nana! Nana!"

Redruth stumbles backwards, huffing and dabbing his nose with his sleeve, though he has the good manners to try to look as though this is for polishing rather than cleaning purposes.

Arickettycoffeecup, undeterred, slings one arm round Ben Scroope's waist and the other round Jack's shoulders and rubs noses with each in turn. "Nana Tacky! Nana Penny!"

"Nana means '~goodbye'?" guesses Redruth, coping better than Jack was expecting.

"Aye."

"And Tacky and Penny?"

There's a long pause.

"That would be me an' Ben, sir."

This time, pretty much everybody sniggers.

~

After a couple of weeks, the ship is mended and partially restocked; they have directions to another island where they've been promised more pigs and some kind of fat, edible bird; and Jack has a problem.

Redruth—disappointed by the island's lack of gold, gems, spice, or any promising trade goods—is set on pushing further into the unknown. Askew hopes to head south in search of Davis Land, the Southern Continent, or Lord knows what. But they've little idea where they are; the food they've taken on won't last a month; and the stench of scurvy still hangs over everything below deck. Jack hates to admit it after the effort he put into getting to sea, but he's going to desert.

The plan is for Jack, Ben, and Bob to vanish just as the Venture sets sail. With any luck, no-one will spend long looking for them. The question is how to tell Askew. He hides a letter between the pages of the declination tables where the cartographer will find it next time he checks the Venture's position against solar or lunar altitude—which won't be until that position has changed. Then he watches from the concealment of a breadfruit tree as the patched sails of the Venture dip below the horizon.

Dear Mr. Askew,

If you're reading this letter, then you've sailed with the Venture, and I haven't. I'm sorry to part from you, but I've fallen in love. No, not with a girl (although there are several I like the look of and who seem to like the look of me), but with RedruthIsland. I'm not ready to leave here yet—not even to discover a new continent. I want to learn all about how the people live and the other islands they sail to. I want to make maps of it all, and I want to learn to sail their canoes.

So please don't worry about me (or Ben and Bob). We've not been taken hostage or eaten. But don't tell Captain Redruth.

You taught me more than anyone else I ever met. I'm very grateful for it and you needn't fret that I'll go native and forget, for I'm going to study this place like a proper scholar. If you come back this way, I promise you the most perfect and complete chart of RedruthIsland and surrounding waters: all you'll need to do is fill in the longitude.

Yours in gratitude,

Jack Sparrow

P.S. I have borrowed the small almanac, the Christopher Cock spyglass, the divider you don't like, and the Wilmot with engravings, also paper and ink. I shall take good care and endeavour to return them undamaged (except the last two) when you come for the charts.

P.P.S. By my calculations, our position is 9 degrees W of your reckoning (14 W of Mr. Collier's and 5 E of Captain Redruth's). We are likely all wrong, but I advise adjusting westwards rather than eastwards if you decide to adjust at all.

~

Philip Askew, cartographer, never finds Davis Land, mostly because it doesn't exist, but Jack'll swear on his mother's grave that there's a tribe on the shore of the Southern Continent where coconuts drop from the trees and fish leap out of the waves practically onto the griddle; where the women are dusky and well-endowed while the men are pale and angular. They make the best charts in the world and, to this day, their word for chief is Askew.

Alternatively, years later, Jack will have been horrified to recognise Mr. Askew's features on a shrunken head acquired from the fearsome Jivaros of Peroo.

Askew's other fates, adjusted for audience, circumstances and Jack's current mood, range from sea-monsters and rivers of ice to a vicar's daughter in the Cotswolds and a clutch of little Askews. The truth, in all its discouraging narrative inadequacy, is that Jack never learns what befell the Golden Venture beyond the bald fact (extracted from the records by a most accommodating commodore of Jack's acquaintance) that she was never heard of in England again.

~

But none of this is yet apparent to young Jack, growing taller and stronger on a South Sea isle that posterity will not know as Redruth Island.

He quickly sets aside his forebodings and genuinely hopes to see Askew again. Partly to this end, he busies himself charting every detail of the island and pesters its inhabitants to take him on deep sea fishing expeditions or tell him what they know of neighbouring lands. This causes great amusement among the islanders, who never tire of joking that the full-grown foreigners, Penny and Poppy, are so scared of the sea they would rather do women's work than go fishing, but little Tacky will pound yams for you all morning just for the chance to squat in the hull for three days and bail water.

In the end, Jack's persistence and obvious talents pay off. Once he's able to hold a proper conversation (Ben has the language skills of a sexually precocious three-year-old; Bob's wife is learning English), a navigator called Tevake agrees to teach him the lesser secrets. Jack learns new names for the stars, recites the sequences in which they rise and set in particular directions, and which islands lie behind them. This is the star compass, and it's not hard: only the names and islands are new.

The wind compass is more of a challenge. Best of all is sailing by swell, recognising the rhythm and shape of the four main swell patterns that—if you listen right—will tell you direction, position, and where they last ran against land. Finally, he learns about currents and how to tell if land is near by observing clouds, birds and the flash of deep-sea lightning Tevake calls te lapa.

Tevake shows Jack charts—except they're not charts—woven from sticks and shells to show how these wave patterns crisscross the ocean, intersecting and reflecting off one another and off land. These people don't map specific islands or seas, but the way islands and seas in general behave: at last, Jack understands their indifference to his efforts at cartography. Tevake teaches him to feel the swell. As a complete beginner, Jack has to do this by floating on his back in the ocean; later he learns how to stand naked on the canoe's tilting deck and sense it through the soles of his feet and the swing of the flesh between his legs. (It's a wonderful method, but tricky to put into practice on the quarterdeck of a European ship.)

It's hardly Jack's fault if—once back in the world of canvas and cable—he cultivates a certain mystery around his powers. For one thing, Tevake swore him to secrecy, and anyway, on the rare occasions he tries to explain (even simple things like how the ship stays still while islands flow around it) people tend to shake their heads and call for someone less... complicated to take the helm.

For now, among the islanders, it's Jack's compass and chart that raise eyebrows. (The spyglass, however, is much admired.) It's a good life: as navigator, he's always welcome on trading voyages; the girls are more than friendly; food is plentiful; they even brew a kind of beer. It's pleasantly hot, and there's always the clear blue ocean nearby when you need to feel the wind in your sails, or just take a swim.

But Jack knows there's another, bigger, world beyond the horizon. He glances surreptitiously at the compass, correlating its directions with Tevake's system. If he could only ascertain the island's longitude, he could connect his new world with his old, and sail from one to the other; but no matter how far afield Tevake takes him (and Askew would be astounded at the extent of Jack's maps), nothing they see matches anything on the Venture's charts.

Jack starts to think it wouldn't be so bad to stay here like Ben and Bob. He could learn the greater secrets and become a famous navigator, his name passed down for generations. He could marry a wife or two—no hurry about that—and chew betel in the shade while their children play on the beach... But then comes The Dream.

~

She looks like his mother at first, the way she used to stand in front of the Wicked Wench, watching the wind carry the chimney smoke away, but then she turns, and he sees her face. Not Mam at all. She's been chewing some kind of black betel (at least he hopes that's all it is) but she's got good teeth under the stains. And she bobs her head when she smiles, almost like a serving wench, only full of mockery, daring anyone to give her orders. Jack rather likes it.

"So, Jack Sparrow," she says. Jack takes a mental step back: pretty, but creepy. "Or Tacky? Which name you gonna keep, hmm?"

"Take your pick." He frames his most conciliatory smile. "I'm not fussy."

Wrong answer, clearly. Jack picks himself up, trying not to wince or notice that she doesn't appear to have moved, but he feels like he's just been knocked flat by a breaker. "Fact is, I don't see much chance to be fussy, seein' as I'm stuck in this admittedly delightful locality."

"Thought you was a sailor."

"I am! A bloody good one too!" The words are out of his mouth before he can dress them pretty. "Good enough to know there's a hell of a lot of water out there an' precious little chance of finding anything else when I don't know where I am to begin with, savvy?"

She narrows her eyes. "Don' you savvy me, Tsaga'auweh."

"Good thing you're only a dream," says Jack, bolder now he's stood up for himself and not been knocked down for it, "or I could be seriously worried about this conversation."

The dream giggles and chucks him under the chin. Perhaps bold was a mistake...

"Great storm a-comin'," she says against all the available evidence (but then this is a dream so maybe she knows what she's talking about). "If yo' name still Jack Sparrow, you might wan' to look fo' what the sea leave behind."

~

Three days after that, the shore-crabs start sealing their burrows. Other storm signs follow, with the actual storm hitting on day five, and raging through days six and seven.

On day eight, Jack rises at dawn to inspect the altered beach. He finds the object almost at once, for it belongs here still less than the smashed coral, broken branches and dead sea-creatures: a lead canister, sealed with wax and stitched up tight in an oilskin wrapper. Jack's heart is pounding so hard he has to sit down to prise the thing open with his stone axe.

It contains—of course—a chart, yellow with age, stained and crumbling around the edges, but clearly showing a chain of islands that run northwest to southeast. Two of them are recognisably the same islands Jack charted on one of his trading voyages with Tevake, who called them Makira and Ulata. This chart calls the whole chain Las Islas de Salomón (though if there's gold to be found there, Jack'll eat his pubic leaf) and marks their longitude around 173 degrees east of Seville. It is signed Pedro Sarmiento de Gamboa, and it's the missing piece Jack needed to guide him to the island on his father's map.

Jack's first thought is what fun it would be to show it to Askew.

~

Tall Ship Tales

Prologue 1 (Tale Minus One): Shine
Prologue 2 (Tale Zero): Names


Tall Ship Tales 1: A Keel
Tall Ship Tales 2: A Hull
Tall Ship Tales 3: A Deck
Tall Ship Tales 4: Sails
Tall Ship Tales 5: A Ship