He opened his eyes, but wherever he was, was dark and had the unsettling habit of rocking him side to side. He sat up and banged his head on what felt like more rough wood. "Ouch."

His whole body ached, even his toes. Joe Hardy swallowed. And he was thirsty. Somewhere, he thought he heard voices mixed with odd creaks and groans. The rocking sensation was making him nauseous.

Joe felt around until he was fairly certain he was lying in some bunk bed or something. He swung his legs to the floor and carefully stood just as the rocking sensation grew violent. The floor – his entire world at the moment – tilted, nearly knocking him off his already unsteady feet.

Joe let out a cry and reached blindly for something, anything, to grab hold of. His hand brushed hot metal and he snatched his hand back. But now a narrow band of light danced around the room. Once the floor returned to normal and the thin strip of yellow light stopped dancing, Joe reached out for it. A few minutes and several singed fingertips later, he realized it was a lantern. He slid the door open and dim candlelight flooded the room.

It was small, about half the size of his bedroom at home. The bed, desk and an odd low cabinet all seemed bolted to the floor. Something about the room struck a chord but Joe wasn't sure why.

The floor tilted again and for the first time, Joe realized he was hearing thunder and that rushing sound – it was rain. He looked around, found a door and started toward it just as it swung open.

A man stood there, his shirt drenched and his hair dripping wet, and stared at him for a long moment. "Ah, you're awake." The man smiled and stuck out a hand. "Will Turner."

Joe stared at him, taking in the breeches, knee-high boots – the sword strapped to his waist. "Uh...Joe Hardy."

"Welcome aboard the Black Pearl."

Joe blinked. "Black Pearl?"

Will grinned. "Jack Sparrow's ship."

There was a clatter of footsteps, and a woman came to the door. She wore what looked like an oversized uniform jacket and pants, both soaked through, and her long dark hair hung wet around her face. "Jack's mumbling something again about rum and really bad eggs."

Joe had the presence of mind to register that both Will and the woman had British accents. "Rum and really bad eggs?"

Will laughed and nudged the girl, giving her a loving smile. "Well, she taught him the song." After a long moment, he tore his gaze away from the girl and nodded to Joe. "It's a long story."

The woman gave an unladylike grunt. "He was drunk at the time – I really didn't think he'd remember it." She grinned. "The rum did make a great signal fire." She looked over at Joe. "I'm Elizabeth Swann."

"Joe Hardy." He looked around and took a deep breath. "Um, where am I?"

"The Black Pearl," said Elizabeth, giving Will an odd look. "Did he not tell you?"

"I meant where is the Black Pearl right now? It's a ship, right, is it sailing?"

"We're heading for Tortuga," said Will. "Jack's after something again." He shook his head. "You'd think he'd learn by now."

Joe shook his head and as the floor tilted again, he gripped the edge of the door frame. "After what?"

"Treasure. Jack is always after treasure," said Elizabeth. She looked at Joe and seemed to notice for the first time what he was wearing. "What odd attire."

Joe looked down at his jeans, now stiff and dry, and his T-shirt. He noticed the small four-leaf clover pin was still attached and was amazed he hadn't lost it. "What?" He looked at Turner and at Elizabeth. "What's the date?"

Elizabeth blinked. "’Tis the year of our Lord, 1725."

Joe stared at her, stunned. "You're kidding, right? This is some sort of joke, right?"

Both Will and Elizabeth shook their heads. Will frowned. "Are you all right?"

Joe looked around the room. "This can't be real. Who is Jack?"

Elizabeth grunted again. "One of the craziest pirates ever."

Joe stared at her. "Pirate? I'm on a pirate ship?"

Will grinned. "That you are."

Someone shouted up above them and Will glanced up. "I'd best be returning. We're almost to Tortuga." Will darted up the rainslicked steps to the upper deck, leaving Joe with Elizabeth.

"Where's Tortuga?" asked Joe.

Elizabeth frowned and looked down at her sopping clothes. She shivered and pushed the door shut. "It's west of Port Royal. We've been sailing nonstop for five days and it's rained for three of them."

Joe swallowed hard. "This is really a pirate ship?"

She nodded. "Yes, it is."

Joe watched her walk over to the chest and pull open the doors. She pulled out a pile of what looked like drapes. She sorted through the lighter material and the darker material and as she did so, he saw they weren't drapes but clothes.

He cleared his throat, looked around but didn't see any other door than the one she and Will had come through. "Um, would you like me to leave?"

She looked up at him and pointed to the other side of the room where there appeared to be a partial wall. He could see that it was bolted to the floor like the rest of the furniture. She hefted the clothes and walked over to the partial wall. "I'll change back here."

"Oh, okay."

She darted behind the partial wall and after a few minutes, there was a wet slap as the clothes she'd been wearing were tossed over the wall. Ten minutes later, she stepped out, clad in a long dress that fit snugly from her shoulders to her waist and then flared out around her hips. It was laced up the front and he could see glimpses of what appeared to be another dress under the first one.

She smoothed the front of the dress down and smiled. "Ah, dry clothes."

Joe glanced at the door. "So...how did I get here?"

"We found you on a bit of plank from a scuttled ship." Elizabeth perched on the only moveable thing in the room, an old wooden chair. Her hair was starting to dry but still left wet stains on the shoulders of her dress.

That would explain the memory of landing on rough wood, thought Joe. He moved over to sit back down on the bed. "So you rescued me?"

"’Tis the least we could do. Couldn't let you drown."

The rocking sensation had faded and so had the rushing sound of rain. The door swung open and Will walked in again. "Sea's calm now, and the rain has stopped if you want to go up on deck."

Joe nodded and saw Will look at Elizabeth. Joe recognized the look and abruptly missed Vanessa terribly. He shuddered and stood up.

"Are you all right?" asked Elizabeth, standing.

"I'm...fine." Joe cleared his throat and moved toward the door. Will moved aside and Joe stepped past him into a narrow corridor.

Will gestured to the steps. "That leads up." He pointed to the dim corridor. "Down that way is the galley and crew berths."

Joe nodded and carefully made his way up the wooden steps. The deck was full of men scurrying around, tightening ropes and adjusting sails. A weak sun peeked through heavy clouds. A man stood at the ship's wheel, gazing deeply into the distance.

Unnoticed for a minute, Joe studied the man. His hair was long and twisted into dreadlocks. He wore an orange scarf wrapped around his head under his beat-up tri-cornered hat. Joe noted the man's beard was braided and that odd little jingling trinkets were braided into his hair around his face.

"And who be you?" asked a voice next to his ear.

Joe jumped and turned to see an older man with long side whiskers. "Um, Elizabeth said you rescued me?"

The older man grunted. "Ah. Gibbs be the name. And you?"

"Joe Hardy." He nodded in the direction of the man at the wheel. "Who's that?"

"That would be Jack Sparrow, lad."

Somehow Joe had pictured the leader of the pirates as a big burly man with a black beard and a peg leg. Jack Sparrow didn't quite fit the image. "Oh."

"He's a good man, lad, and a good pirate."

Joe wondered how the two could be the same. Every story he'd ever read about pirates, they were the bad guys, plundering and pillaging...He looked over at the older man and nodded slowly. "Okay."

Gibbs gestured with the thick hemp rope in his hands. "Don't let his looks fool ye, lad."

The clouds parted a little more and sunshine glittered on calmer waters. Joe looked around and found it unsettling to see nothing but water – only on the distant horizon, in the direction the ship was heading, was a dark linear smudge. "What's that?"

"Isle of Tortuga."

Joe glanced around to see the man at the ship's wheel, studying him. He managed a smile. "Uh, hi."

The man gave him a look and lifted a hand. "Anamaria."

A woman with coffee-colored skin walked over to the wheel and steered as Sparrow stepped down to the mid-ship deck. "Ye're the lad we pulled from the sea. Captain Jack Sparrow." The man seemed to sway slightly, as if he were drunk – or just unsteady on his feet. He smiled, revealing several gold teeth. "Welcome aboard the Black Pearl," he said expansively.

Joe shook the man's outstretched hand cautiously. "Um, Joe Hardy."

One of the crew passed them and muttered something about 'no curse'. Joe arched an eyebrow. "What curse?"

"No need to boggle th' mind, lad. Curse's been lifted, right, Gibbs?"

"Aye, Captain." Gibbs grinned and wandered aft.

Joe watched the man walk off and turned to Sparrow. "But there was a curse?" asked Joe.

"Aye, there was." Sparrow narrowed his eyes. "Curse of the Black Pearl, lad. Aztec gold, eight hundred and eighty-two identical gold pieces. If anyone would take the gold, they'd be cursed for all eternity." The man's voice drifted off and he pulled a compass out of a small leather pouch. He studied the compass for a moment and snapped it shut. He looked over at Joe. "Now...where was I?"

"You were saying something about a curse."

"No worries, mate, we'll be in Tortuga soon enough." He waved his hand in a go-along-with-you gesture and walked off.

Joe watched him for a minute, and then focused on his surroundings, trying to remember nautical terminology. Carefully, trying not to let anyone see him, he pointed to the back of the ship. "Aft." He pointed to his right. "Starboard—"

"Argh – any port in a storm. Argh, any port in a storm."

Joe jumped and turned to see an old man grinning at him, a parrot perched on his shoulder. Joe sketched a wave. "Hi."

The man smiled widely and Joe saw that the man's tongue had been cut out. He took a step back and wondered how quickly he could bolt without seeming rude. The man nodded and continued on, the parrot still hollering. Joe spun on his heel, hurried down the steps and nearly collided with Will Turner. "Oh...sorry."

"No harm done. You've met Jack then?"

"Uh, yeah. Is he...always like that?"

Elizabeth appeared at Will's elbow and gave a grunt. "He's having a good day."

Joe glanced over his shoulder, up the steps. "He's worse?"

Will cleared his throat. "Well..."

Elizabeth smiled. "Yes, he usually is."

*****

Tortuga was...loud. Women wore low-cut dresses in the same style as Elizabeth's. Their faces were makeup-pale with garish bright lips and cheeks. The small pub that Jack Sparrow led Will, Elizabeth, Gibbs and Joe to was filled with loud voices, raucous laughter and fist-fights. Joe looked around, wide-eyed and had to dodge a fist aimed in his direction, a man who seemed so drunk he couldn't stand on his own two feet and another man who had fallen out of his chair and was snoring loudly, one hand still clasping an empty wine bottle.

Jack ordered a round of drinks and a weary-looking woman with a stained apron set down five tankards in front of them. Joe caught a whiff of the slightly sour smell and looked down at the contents of the tankards. It was full of a reddish brown liquid. "Um, what is this?

"Ahh, the finest ale on this side of Port Royal," announced Jack. He picked up the tankard, gulped down half the contents and thunked it back down with a sigh. "The finest," he said and let out a loud burp.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and shoved her tankard away. She looked around, but the woman who'd brought the tankards had disappeared. She was sitting next to Joe and leaned close to him. "You don't have to drink that, if you'd rather not," she whispered.

Joe swallowed hard. "What if I'm dreadfully thirsty?"

"Well, then, you might risk it. At least it's not rum."

Jack grunted. "Rum – ahh, wonderful drink." He gave Elizabeth a hard look. "I'd have more of it if not for you."

Joe watched Elizabeth and Jack glare at each other while both Gibbs and Will drank their ale. Joe took a careful sip and nearly gagged. The sour smell should have been a clue, for the taste had a sour tinge to it as well. But he was too thirsty to pass up the drink. He managed to get a bit down but after that, he couldn't handle any more.

He sat there and found himself wondering. How on earth did I get here and how can I get back home?

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.