Pirates of the Caribbean: The Price of Freedom

light below them, coming up the ladder from the weather deck. Robby
Greene came up, escorting the two fresh helmsmen. Prescott took the
helm from Jack, and a big, well-muscled crewman whose name
escaped Jack took Banks’s place as lee helmsman. Matthews, Banks,
and Featherstone gratefully headed below.
“I’ll keep an eye on things up here, Jack,” Robby shouted. “You go
below, get some rest.”
Jack shook his head. “I’d rather be up here, Robby,” he yelled.
“You know me.”
Robby’s teeth flashed in the light of the lantern as he grinned, then
he nodded, ruefully, and headed back down the ladder.
Jack had never been seasick for an instant. Not all crewmen were
so lucky, though. In a bad gale, even experienced sailors could
experience mal de mer, and Jack just didn’t want to be anywhere near
puking seamen. Not to mention his passengers, who were undoubtedly
sick as poisoned pups. As far as Jack was concerned, the lashing
rain, howling wind, slashing lightning, and blasts of thunder were
infinitely preferable to the sound and smell of human retching. He could
have gone to his cabin, but it was too rough to try to lie down, and he
knew he’d just sit there, wondering what was happening on deck.
The night and the gale wore on. Men came and went as the
watches changed. Jack stayed up on the quarterdeck.
Finally, after what seemed like days, the storm seemed to be
lessening. Lightning was no longer striking directly overhead in long
jagged tears, but had moved off to leeward. The moments between the
lightning flashes and the booming of the thunder were increasing. The
rain still fell in curtains, but it was falling straight most of the time now,
rather than being driven nearly sideways by the wind.
Jack realized he was tiring. His empty stomach grumbled; he
hadn’t eaten since before noon, and his times spelling helmsmen at
the wheel had sapped his energy. He checked their course again, and
called it out so the ordinary seaman could mark it on the traverse
board. Then he moved aft so he was leaning against the back of the
quarterdeck, holding on with one hand. He was tempted to sit down,
but he wasn’t sure his aching legs would allow him to stand up again,
so he stayed on his feet.