Beyond the Reef (POTC 3)

Chapter 11: Battle of The Flying Dutchman

The thickening silver clouds swirled overhead and the thunder rumbled as the rain began to pour for our troops who started going after the enemy line. I took the black and gold jacket that I obtained from Feng off, because it was beginning to feel heavy from the rain. The material was too thick, and the belt was beginning to restrict my breathing and movement. I was left in my dark shirt, which was sticking to my wet skin.

"Man the capstan. Raise the main top yard. Keep that powder dry," Gibbs commanded as thunder clapped above our heads. I saw Gibbs run to the edge of the ship and yell, "maelstrom!"

I looked over the taffrail to see the ocean beginning to swirl around, causing a massive whirlpool. Deepening with every circle. A free vortex with a considerable downdraft. This was Calypso's doing.

Barbossa was at the wheel and he yelled, "brace up yards, you crack-headed deck apes! Dying is the day worth living for."

"Batten down the hatches!" I yelled to the crew as I jumped off the railing onto the main deck.

"Aye!" I heard Gibbs voice shout.

The Dutchman sailed into the maelstorm and Will reported to Barbossa the whereabouts of the Dutchman, "she's on our stern and gaining."

Barbossa yelled to the crew, "more speed! Haul your wind and hold your water," before he turned the wheel.

There was a flash amongst the misty air and cannons were fired toward the Pearl. I ducked and turned around to see the fire ball land at the front of our ship, throwing a few of our men off the vessel.

"Prepare to broadside!" I shouted.

Barbossa steered us further into the maelstorm, tilting the ship, careening toward the center.

Gibbs began commanding, "captain the guns. Bear a hand."

Will came down to the main deck and said, "muster your courage, men. At the ready."

The crew began filling the cannons. We had to wait until we were board to board, in line with the Flying Dutchman.

"Batten down the hatches!" Gibbs shouted, reiterating my command before disappearing under the deck.

Pirate captains instinct is knowing the precise moment to fire. If we shoot our cannons too early, we would not have time to load another round before the other ship fires. Too late, then the enemy has shredded half the crew. I kept a sharp eye on the Dutchman, and in the moment I knew that it was time to shoot the cannons, my head snapped to Barbossa to see a fierce look in his eyes. Bloodthirsty, ferocious, and cutthroat. Our instincts were telling us the exact same thing.

Fire.

Barbossa screamed, "fire!"

I joined, "fire!"

As did Elizabeth, "fire! fire all!"

Our cannons went off one by one and the men were desperate to quickly refill and have them go off again. Davy Jones's ship started firing back at us, leaving the sky full of fire and gunpowder and blasts. Wood and other parts of the ship began flying around, everyone was ducking for cover.

I looked over at the Dutchman and squinted to see Jack and Davy sword fighting high above the deck, upon one of the sails. He held a large block in his hand: the chest.