Pirates of the Caribbean: The Price of Freedom

possibility that it might hit the deck and travel, starting fires. And if a
fire started anywhere near the powder magazine…
And I just laid on those two extra casks of powder, Jack recalled,
ruefully. If lightning ignites the powder magazine, there wouldn’t be
anything left except chum for the sharks…After a moment, he
shrugged. He couldn’t do anything about the lightning, so he’d just put it
out of his mind and hope for the best.
Featherstone called time, and turned the hourglass over, seating it
carefully so it wouldn’t roll off. Jack called out the course, and the
ordinary seaman marked the traverse board with a peg.
Time passed. The storm worsened. The spray was nearly
constant, lightning ripped the blackness, and blasts of thunder seemed
to rattle human bones. Matthews and Banks wrestled with the wheel
like a living opponent, grunting with the effort of keeping the ship on
course. Gale winds could be capricious. If the Wicked Wench were
blown north, the bulge of Africa lay in that direction. And if she went off
course to the south, there was an island down there—Fernando Pó,
named for the Portuguese explorer who had discovered it two hundred
years ago. Islands meant shoal water. Being blown around in a gale
was a sailor’s nightmare.
Jack kept an eye on their course, while trying to tuck his chin at
just the right angle so his hat would keep the rain out of his mouth and
nose, but still protect the back of his neck—but a few minutes of
experimentation proved this feat to be impossible. Deciding it was
better to breathe than drown, Jack gritted his teeth and endured the
cold flood running down his back.
Every time the rain slacked off for a moment, he quickly glanced
from port to starboard, to see if he could make out any sign of land. But
there was nothing visible.
Jack could see that Matthews was tiring, so he tapped the
helmsman on the shoulder. “I’ll take her until your watch ends,” he
shouted.
Jack kept the wheel steady, trying to be as smooth as possible
about it. If it hadn’t been for the lee helmsman, Banks, he’d never have
been strong enough to keep the Wench steady.
Just as Lucius turned the hourglass over again, Jack saw moving