There was an instant flurry of activity. They weighed the anchor and set sails in record time, and soon raced in the direction the compass pointed, climbing crests and falling into troughs in a bouncy roller-coaster ride. Rose felt sick again and lost the last of her hardtack meal over the railing.

It took almost an hour until they saw their goal at a distance. The ship was easy to spot despite the darkness and cloudy weather as it was burning heavily, and over the howling of the wind they heard faint cries. It was a large three-master, two of which were entirely engulfed in flames.

"Pirate attack," hollered Gibbs. "But them who did it seem to have left already, thank goodness."

Rose clutched the railing, staring at the horrible scene they rapidly approached, and suddenly the reality of it struck her with full force. This was no adventure, no exciting quest to find the Dutchman. Actual human beings were fighting for their lives on that ship, and it would sink just like the Titanic had, and the sailors would drown just like she had. It was not right.

She grabbed the person closest, which happened to be Jack. "We can't do this!" she yelled to make herself heard.

"What?" He stared at her like she had lost her mind.

"We can't let them die! We can't just watch them drown!"

He turned his gaze from her face to the ship, where they could now make out individual faces of the panicking men running around, shouting to each other in a foreign language. Some of them were desperately trying to reach a dinghy, but it was tied to the side of the ship and large flames erupted between the men and the small boat.

"Damn. Damn your bloody conscience. Damn my bloody conscience." Still pouring out curses, one nastier than the other, Jack pulled off his vest, boots, gun and sword, pressing them into Rose's arms. "Hold my effects." He climbed the railing and dived into the murky waves in a smooth motion, swimming towards the sinking ship with strong strokes.

"What's he doing?" cried Elizabeth, who had just managed to haul the sails and turn the Barnacle. They were bobbing on the waves a hundred feet or so from the burning wreck.

"He's saving them." Rose dropped Jack's belongings on the deck and grabbed Elizabeth's arms earnestly. "We have to help him!"

Understanding dawned in her eyes. "Yes. Yes, of course." She frowned. "Much as I want to find the Dutchman, this way is wrong. What were we thinking?" She ran back to the boat's stern where they had been towing Gibb's dinghy along with them, calling out to him in passing. "Take the wheel and hold her close, but not too close. We don't want to catch that fire."

Elizabeth and Rose climbed down into the smaller vessel, the former grabbing the oars. The wind gave them speed, coming at the dinghy from behind. The ocean was wild and large around them and to Rose their boat felt ridiculously small and weak. Water splashed over its sides with every wave and soon their feet were inches deep in water.

"Is it safe to continue in this storm?" she yelled.

"Storm?" Elizabeth laughed wildly. "This is barely more than a breeze. Wait until you've been in a real storm, fighting pirates and cursed sailors while being nearly sucked into a whirlpool."

Feeling somewhat reassured, Rose turned to watch the burning ship. Jack had reached it now. He had climbed up and was struggling to cut loose their tied up dinghy with his knife. The ship was sinking rapidly and very soon the dinghy no longer hung above the surface, but floated at an awkward angle, still tied to the ship on one side.

The distressed sailors huddled together near the aft where the deck still was intact. Elizabeth steered their own dinghy that way, and was shortly after joined by Jack who had finally managed to release the other one. With a thud the two dinghies connected with the hull of the larger ship and Rose reached out to grab it, keeping them steady.

The men poured down to them in quick succession, and the dinghies became a chaotic mess of flailing arms and legs.

"Calm down! One at a time!" Elizabeth yelled, but they did not listen. In their panic they were nearly fighting each other to get over the railing, and then one lost his grip and fell into the water. He sank below the surface without a sound.

Jack did not hesitate. With another of his elegant dives he went after the afflicted man. It did not take long before he popped up again, towing the man flailing and spluttering back to the dinghy. With joint effort, Rose and one of the sailors hauled him to safety.

She was just reaching out for Jack, when a hideous creaking made her look up to see the burning mainmast come falling down over them. Rose threw herself backwards just in time, and the huge object missed her head with merely inches to go. It hit the water beside the dinghy with a splash and a hissing cloud of steam as the fire extinguished. The resulting ripples caused the small vessel to roll so violently it nearly threw off its many passengers.

"Jack!" called Rose, scanning the dark waves, but the steam obscured her vision. Had he been hit by the mast? "Jack!"

Suddenly she saw something red. It was the scarf he wore tied around his hair! The rest of him was floating face-down below the surface.

Clumsily Rose jumped into the water, again immensely thankful for her pants as she began to swim.

The waves felt much larger when she was in the middle of them, and they kept crashing squarely into her head. Rose set her teeth with determination. She was a good swimmer; she should be able to do this!

A wave smacked her face, shortly followed by another. She accidentally gulped in a mouthful of water and began to cough, feebly turning her face away from the onslaught to avoid another involuntary drink.

She fought to reach the spot where she had seen the scarf, but the ocean kept pushing her back. It should not be far, she ought to be there already, but it felt like she was swimming with weights tied to her legs.

For the first time, Rose got really frightened for her own life. This was too horribly familiar, a twisted déjà vu, complete with a nearby sinking ship and a man named Jack gone under.

Memories of her drowning haunted her. There were differences; the water which had been icy cold then was lukewarm here, so she still had the strength of her limbs. But when the Titanic went down the sea had been calm. These waves were something else entirely, a brute, wild force she had never before encountered.

A new breaker struck her face and pulled her under the surface. Its power was terrible; she had no chance to fight it, no more than a leaf could resist a strong wind.

Rose's heart pounded in her ears. She had to get back up and breathe! But it felt like swimming through thick syrup.

At last she broke the surface and gulped air in quick mouthfuls, fighting to stay up when the next rolling wave attacked.

Still no sign of Jack, but ahead she spotted another flash of red. The scarf was still there!

Bringing out some hidden source of power within, Rose kicked her feet and pushed forward another few inches. She had arrived at last!

Under the scarf, Jack's dark hair billowed like seaweed. Rose grasped his limp body and pulled it, struggling to get his nose above the surface.

She desperately looked around her to find something to hold on to, and to her immense relief she caught sight of the dinghy nearby. It had come after her! Thank God, the dinghy had followed suit, or she might have drowned there with Jack, every ounce of energy spent.

Strong hands helped pull Jack back aboard, and then Rose herself. She fell onto the deck in a wet heap, coughing up the last water from her lungs and greedily gulping in fresh air.

The boat rocked as someone manned the oars and began to take them back to the Barnacle. Rose hardly noticed it. As soon as she had caught her breath, she focused on the prone body splayed out on the deck.

Jack's face was still, peaceful almost, like he was sleeping. Swallowing a terrified sob, Rose fell on her knees beside him. There was no movement at all, no raising and sinking of his chest, and when she laid her palm on the soft skin over his heart she felt nothing.

Then the sailors screamed in terror, gawking at something behind Rose. A large form had emerged from the deep; a dark ship with seaweed covered sails.

The Flying Dutchman had arrived.

A/N:

So, they got their drowned sailor after all... but perhaps not in the way anyone had expected. Sorry about another cliffhanger!

Thanks for all votes and comments. ♡

Image Credits:

Screenshot from the Pirate of the Caribbean movies.