James Ponti - Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides Junior Novel

D EAD MEN TELL NO TALES.

That was the warning pirates offered those who braved the seas. But one man seemed to defy that rule with great regularity. Captain Jack Sparrow had been left for dead more times than he could remember. He had been stranded on deserted islands, sentenced to eternity in Davy Joness Locker, and sucked beneath the surface of the ocean by the bloodthirsty Kraken. Each time he was doomed, with no chance of survival. Yet, somehow, he always managed to return to the living with stories of great adventure.

So, sometimes, dead menor at least men who were supposed to be deaddid tell tales.

But none could equal this particular talethe one told by a Spanish sailor who was lost at sea for nearly two hundred years. He was pulled from the ocean by a fisherman as the last moments of sunset cast a faint orange glow across the dark waters of the Atlantic.

CREE-YAK! wailed the winch as the fisherman turned the crank that lifted his net from the sea. CREE-YAK! Against the darkening sky he could faintly make out a shape; something was trapped in the net. CREE-YAK! He continued to turn the crank and study the shape until his worst fears were realized. CREE-YAK! There among the fish trying to escape was the body of an ancient sailor.

Captain! called the fisherman. Captain!

The captain arrived just as the sailors lifeless body spilled out onto the deck.

Both said a quick prayer as they looked down on the poor lost soul. The old mans clothes were tattered and torn; twisting strands of seaweed were wrapped around his arms and legs; and water poured from his long white beard. Remarkably, a book remained securely wedged between his chest and arm. When the captain reached down to get it, the most amazing thing happened.

The ancient sailor opened his eyes.

Although he could barely whisper a few halting words at a time, the sailor told them what turned out to be an incredible story, a story, he insisted, that the king needed to hear. They agreed, sailed straight for the royal city of Cadiz, and took the old man to the palace. Because the sailor was too weak to walk, they had to carry him in a worn canvas sail.

King Ferdinand was the opposite of the ancient man who lay dying on the floor of the palace. The old and feeble sailor was undoubtedly of humble origins, his greatest achievement his service to the crown. Ferdinand, however, was young and privileged, said to be divinely chosen by God to lead the Spanish people. And now, through the words of this man, Ferdinand thought he might be able to achieve what his forefathers only dreamed ofimmortality. He studied the sailor, who barely clung to life as he strained to take shallow breaths while still managing to keep a tight grip on his book.

The captain of the fishing boat spoke first. We believe hes found

The king held up his hand to silence him. He wanted to hear it from the sailor himself. He kneeled down next to the ancient man, who struggled to open his eyes.

With a wheeze that seemed to drain all his energy, the sailor said, Ponce de Leon.

King Ferdinand nodded and looked over his shoulder at a mysterious man whose skin had been darkened by a lifetime spent sailing the seas. They shared a knowing look, and then the king turned back to the ancient sailor. He took the book from the sailors tight grasp and saw that it was an old ships log from the Santiago. The king began to carefully turn the pages.

He says hes found Ponce de Leons ship, the captain explained.

Or sailed on it, the fisherman added.

No, the captain snapped, not wanting to sound ridiculous in front of the king. I told you, Ponce de Leon died two hundred years ago.

But he died searching for something, the fisherman responded, not backing down.

King Ferdinand nodded. He knew exactly what Ponce de Leon had searched for centuries earlier. And here in the ships log he saw a symbol that could mean only one thing.

The Fountain of Youth, Ferdinand said.

His mission complete, the sailor flashed a faint smile and spent his final breath, easing into a death that had long awaited him.

The king stood and turned to the mysterious man.

How soon can you sail? he asked as he handed him the old ships log.

The mysterious man did not hesitate to answer.

With the tide.

H URRY PAPA, OR WELL MISS THE HANGING, a little girl said excitedly as she raced down a crowded cobblestoned street. Theyve caught a real pirate! I want to see.

She wasnt the only one.

Beneath a dreary gray sky, a crowd of Londoners poured into the Old Bailey, which is what they called their courthouse. They came to see the trialand probably the hangingof an infamous pirate. The courtroom was filled to overflowing, and the crowd greeted the prisoner with boos and hisses as the jailer led him in, his wrists and ankles bound in manacles, a black hood covering his head.

The bailiff stood up and read the indictment. Now appearing before the court, the notorious pirate, brigand, pillager, and highwayman, Captain Jack Sparrow!

More boos and hisses rained down at the sound of his name. Jack Sparrow was a hated man, his reputation well-known throughout London. But while most of the people in the courtroom had heard stories of his evil deeds, apparently none of them had ever seen him. Because when the jailer pulled off the prisoners hood, no one realized that it was somebody else.

I told you the name is Gibbs, the man pleaded. Joshamee Gibbs!

Joshamee Gibbs was a pirate. And he often sailed as Jack Sparrows first mate. Somehow he had been mistaken for his boss, and now an angry mob was screaming for his blood. With no way to prove differently, a show of mercy from the courtwhich seemed unlikely to say the leastwas his only hope of avoiding hanging.

Hear ye, hear ye, the bailiff continued. Commencing now, the sessions of the peace. Presiding over these trials, the highly esteemed magistrate of South York. All rise for the Right Honorable Justice Smith!

The crowd shouted as the judge sauntered into the room, wearing his black robe and a large, white powdered wig. He also held a lace handkerchief in front of his mouth, making it difficult for the people who jammed the courtroom to get a good look at his face.

He dropped the handkerchief just long enough for Joshamee to get a glimpse of the glint in his eye and the flash of gold in his mouth. Gibbs instantly recognized him. It was Jack Sparrow, apparently adding impersonating a judge to his long list of crimes and misdemeanors.

Jack? Gibbs said, disbelieving. The bailiff jabbed him in the gut with a billy club.

Not necessarily, said the judge, who was really Jack. You were saying?

JackSparrow is not my name, the prisoner claimed. My name is Joshamee Gibbs.

Is that so? Jack asked with a wry smile. It says Jack Sparrow here.

I was making inquiries as to the whereabouts of Jack Sparrow, Gibbs tried to explain. Who Id learned had come to London. And who I would be happy to identify to the court if it would help my case.