Bill O'Reilly watched with interest as the sloop came in to dock. It wasn't abnormal for captains with half their wits about them to come into the relative safety of Tortuga's docks when such a terrible storm struck. God only knew how many foolish vessels would go down in the night and as the storm went on. Time passed and Bill watched. He had seen some damn organised pirates, looters and smugglers in his time, but never had he seen such organisation and discipline. Heck, he couldn't even hear them bantering, though that might have just been the storm being too loud and the rain drowning out their voices.

He couldn't help but wonder, however, to whom the ship belonged. There was always good money to be had if one knew where to sell information, and news about new captains and pirates always fetched a pretty penny in the underground, particularly if you could hint at when they'll be setting off to loot and when they should be coming back - looting looters could only mean more money for less after all.

Bill slowly made his way down to the docks, his long hair peaking out from under the wide-brimmed hat he wore.
"Ahoy there mates," he approached a few of the sailors who appeared to be finished with their duties and taking a small breather, "'tis be fine weather to be coming into dock, eh? How was't? Good huntin' this time around?" allowed himself to survey the small vessel as he waited for their response. It was very nice, and didn't look like it had seen much battle - of what he could see in the darkness anyway. He might want to stick with this lot for a bit, their next destination would probably be the tavern, and tongues always loosened with a bit of drink...

Not too far away, a - rather dunk - companion of Bill's happened to be sitting around in just such a tavern, staring intently at the back of a red-headed woman who had made herself comfortable round a table with some sailors.
"Ya know..." he muttered loudly as he got up, more to himself than anyone in particular, "if ya're lookin' for some coin'n a bit a fuuun..." he stumbled towards the table, falling into the rather flustered sailor before righting himself again, "I can give a lotta both!" he shoved an empty bottle into the hand of the same sailor (Mathews he thought they'd called him) grabbing a chair from a half empty table and making himself comfortable between the red head and Mathews, "ya know that dontcha Lucy-loo? Ya promised me last time there ain't no man for ya but me, only so many times I can forgive ya, ya know?"