Thirty-three years is nothin' to sneeze at still. It's quite a ways off.

[Enough for anyone to feel alienated by this strange new world. The topic at hand is a touchy one. Jack tries his damnest cope by just drinking himself into a peaceful oblivion but it's not enough.

It's never enough.]

Sons, eh? [He frowns somewhat.] If it been thirty-three years, I suspect them both to be fully grown.

All that time gone within the blink of an eye. It's not right.

[A dry laugh leaves him as Mary literally calls out everything he've done. The new clothes, the weird futuristic gadgets, even the apartment all feel odd to him. Nothing reminds him of home. Absolutely nothing.]

I've never fit in anywhere except upon me ship with the wind in my hair and the wide open seas before me. It's odd being on land for so long, too odd.

That's why I'm fixin' me a crew and ship. I'm leaving.