The first thing he notices is that he doesn't hurt anymore.
It's quite odd. In one way or another, James Norrington has been in pain for most of his life, and he knows how it feels to be hurt so badly you barely feel it. This isn't it. This is a total lack of pain.
He is sitting in a boat. A rowboat? There is a lantern in the prow. He leans forward idly and examines the flame as it flickers ahead of him, illuminating nothing but the water.
He is at sea, he knows that by the soft rocking of the boat. He is sailing somewhere, and he cannot bring himself to care where, just so long as he never arrives. There are stars above him and the water below him, a perfect lovely night on the water.
The water rolls along behind him, and he is at peace.