Aye, it's 1706 don't ye know, and the ex-pirate Thomas Marlowe decides to settle down, with the beautiful Elizabeth, on a tobacco plantation in olde Virginny. And the first thing he does is what the first thing any bloody desperado would do: he frees his slaves. Aye, a real fair and honest man is he, our Thomas Marlowe. No slavery for him, don't ye know; that's despicable!
But the pirate lust roils in his veins so he schemes to get back on a ship and sets sail for olde England, in order to sell a load of tobaccy and make himself wealthy. He mans his ship with an equal portion of his ex-slaves and a crew of salty old sea-dogs he finds at the wharf. Naturally, they get along just fine, don't ye know, white and black, illiterate and ignorant, African and European, barely a problem between the two a'tall.
And he brings his wife along, the lovely, blonde Elizabeth, with barely a thought to the fact that she will be months at sea, in closed quarters, with a crew of armed and ignorant men, one or two who might, don't you know, get the idea of giving her husband the old heave-ho so that they can, perhaps, enjoy her in such a way that pirates have been known to enjoy females over the centuries. But no, this never happens you see, because they've apparently taken on the characteristics of their smart and sensitive captain.
So, grrr, he's cheated out of his rightful tobacco revenue and decides to go to Madagascar to become a pirate again--without telling his wife--who gets mad at him and stamps her pretty little foot and refuses to bunk with him, until he finally gets angry and takes his fists and--no, no, not that a'tall. Instead he proves his manliness to her yet again in a manly, humanitarian seaman type way, and she meekly crawls into his hammock one salty eve to forgive him and tender to him her female ministrations.
The ship he captains has no guns, not one little four-pounder, so his clever plan is to go to the famous pirate lair at St. Mary's in Madagascar to buy some. These pirates are heavily armed and have cannons pointing at every spot in the harbor, but aye, he sails in and announces that he wishes to buy sixteen cannons from them and that he can pay for them in gold. They, in turn, in true pirate fashion, sell them to him. No, they don't murder him and enslave his crew and burn his ship and steal his money and rape his wife--and he never considers that they will--instead they sell him the cannons he wants. Just like you'd expect of a bunch of deadly old salty sea-curs.
But he's armed now, and dangerous, and he goes to the Red Sea to try to capture a fabulously wealthy Indian merchantman, loaded with gold and ivory and diamonds and silver and silk and paintings and computer equipment, and what do ye know matey, finds one in a couple of days or so--the Red Sea is just crawling with them--and takes it! Aye, but it ain't that easy, because there is another pirate--a BAD pirate--who cheats him and steals the load and takes his ship and imprisons him and ties his loyal, plucky, beautiful wife spread-eagled to a bed at the pirate lair while he goes to another room to rub his hands together gleefully. Aye, aye, aye, what will happen? Will our courageous hero save her in time? Will he get his ship and treasure back? Will he bawl for a full two months all the way home because his best friend was killed?
Take a wild stab in the dark, matey.