As the storm dissipated, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was Bootstrap Bill Turner, Will's father, who'd been cursed to serve on the Dutchman for eternity.
He leaped from the ship, landing on the water as if it were solid ground. He walked among the wreckage. A young midshipman, no older than fourteen, was clinging to a spar, shivering. will turner captain of the flying dutchman
He remembered the one day they had. The white sand, the green flash. It was a memory that he clung to when the centuries of solitude pressed against his mind. As the storm dissipated, a figure emerged from the shadows
He took the wheel, his hand merging slightly with the wood. As the storm dissipated
"Will, lad," Bill said, his voice low and gravelly, "we've got a problem on our hands."