Steps in the Right Direction

“Papa, we’re leaving!” I call from the bottom of the stairs.

“Is Charlotte with you?”

I roll my eyes and look at Charlotte with a you-better-speak-up-now look. She nods and clears her throat.

“Yes, I’m going with her, Sir. No need to worry.”

“Good,” Father calls, “It’s lovely to hear your voice, Charlotte.”

“Yes, I know, Sir.”

Papa’s head appears around the corner of the corridor entryway. “Have a good time then. Bring my greetings to the Captain for me, will you Elizabeth?”

“Yes,” I say through gritted teeth, “Anything else?”

“No, that’s all.” He gives a small wave, and I stalk out, annoyed by the claustrophobic atmosphere in which I am kept, with Charlotte scurrying behind me to keep up.

When we reach the fort, James is already there waiting for us in his captaincy garb. From far away he looks just as regal as I remember him, yet his face seems to have taken on a stonier far-off look. It doesn’t suit him very well. He helps the two of us down from our carriage and bows over my hand. Charlotte turns the other cheek at his gesture, and I wonder if, deep down, she still likes him half as much as she did when she first met him.

The cobblestone street dips down away from the fort and down to the harbour where numerous fishing boats are docked. Far off, bobbing up and down upon the crystal blue Caribbean Sea is the H.M.S. Interceptor. It is the finest ship I have ever seen with its crisp white sails snapping in the wind and the fresh coat of azure blue paint on its hull. I immediately think of Will and how much he would enjoy seeing this ship. Perhaps he can see it from the blacksmith’s shop, though it is far away.

“Is she not the very beauty I described to you, Miss Swann?” James says, and I look at him, distracted by the change in his voice. His eyes are glazed over with pride, and that pride seeps into every word he speaks about his beloved ship. You would think him married to her.

The newly appointed Captain leads us down the cobblestone path that runs parallel to the sea. We finally come to a dock that juts out the farthest from the harbour wall where a longboat sits ready to be cast off.

“You’re taking us out there to see her?” I say, glancing at the longboat as we near it.

“Aye, I did promise you could see her, didn’t I? We may as well do it proper,” James says, a wide grin spreading across his face, as he helps lower me into the rocking boat. He helps Charlotte in next before lowering himself in.

“Yes, I suppose I do remember that,” I say, slightly flustered. “I had not known that common civilians were allowed on naval ships.”

“You are not a common civilian, Miss Swann,” Captain Norrington replies nonchalantly, though I catch the twinkle that lights up his eyes as he says it. “I assure you, all the necessary people have been consulted, and you will find that we are all within the law.”

The Interceptor is immense. Much, much more so than our miniscule longboat, which floats precariously upon the water next to its mother ship. The waves are rougher this far out from shore, and for a moment I fear our little boat shall be dashed to pieces against the larger one.

A firm hand takes mine and helps me up, and before I realise what’s going on I find myself staggering over the threshold of a gap in the ships railing and onto the deck itself. Charlotte trips behind me and catches herself on my arm. When I look at her she is deathly pale.

“Charlotte, are you all right?”

“No, I’m afraid not, Miss,” she says, leaning against the railing for support, “I’m afraid the sea doesn’t quite agree with me today.”

I turn to James, whose hat and white wig finally appear over the side of the ship. A few soldiers standing about help him to haul the longboat up and secure it against the side of the ship.

James takes a look at Charlotte and helps her to sit down on a crate nearby. “You’ll feel better once you get your sea legs again. If you watch the horizon you’ll find that the motion of the sea beneath us isn’t so bad after all.”

Charlotte takes his advice and spends the remaining time staring off into the distance. I watch her for a few moments, my brows furrowed with concern, but when the paleness drains from her face and is replaced by some colour I am at ease again. It is surprising how the tables have turned since our last sea voyage brought us to Jamaica.

James leads me up to the helm where I turn the ships wheel for good measure before heading to the bow to look out over the expanse of ocean before me. Never before have I seen anything quite so breathtaking. I feel insignificant standing on this ship in the middle of the vast ocean.

“What do you make of it, Miss Swann?” James asks from behind me.

I turn to face him, delight on my face. “It’s beautiful, James. I’ve never seen anything quite so powerful yet delicate at the same time. Thank you for allowing me to see it.”

He doesn’t bother to correct my breach of propriety, but smiles to himself instead, “Anything for you, Miss Swann.”

I turn from him, a blush creeping into my cheeks. Quickly I change the subject, “When we sailed from England I didn’t appreciate the beauty of the ship then. Though this one is a thousand times more beautiful, I understand now things I did not before.”

Captain James Norrington does not answer, and when I turn to him his eyes, which I know have been watching me, snap to something else entirely. I stare at him for a moment to see if he will look at me again, but when he does not I turn my eyes back to the horizon and rest my chin on my hand, thinking of everything and nothing, but most notably of Captain James Norrington and William Turner.