Xander coughed up saltwater as strong hands pounded him on the back.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he blinked in surprise as he looked around at his saviors. Something about the well worn planks and ropes of the sailing ship warned him he wasn’t on a remake or prop ship, the clothes the sailors wore and the quick way they went about their work only reinforced that point.

Swallowing, Xander stood and looked at the man that had pulled him out of the drink and blinked in surprise again that the man couldn’t be more than a handful of years older than himself, smiled and clasped a hand firmly on his shoulder.

“Alexander Harris, welcome aboard the Flying Dutchman . How would you like to postpone death?”

(I Don't own PoTC.)