Chesterfield’s Adventures At Sea

Chesterfield Chipmunk dozed in the parlor of his Queen Anne Revival Style house on the west side of Trinidad, Colorado. He dreamed of sailing the Sea of Cortez with John Steinbeck, of cruising the South Pacific with James Michener, of marlin fishing with Ernest Hemingway in the Caribbean. Well, maybe not Hemingway. Pillaging the Spanish Main with Francis Drake. In pursuit of the Great White Whale, with his friend, Samuel Clemens Sasquatch, appearing as Queequeg. Serving as a junior officer under the fictional hero Horatio Hornblower, or aboard HMS Endeavour with the great explorer Captain James Cook.

Now, in the manner of dreams, Chesterfield was a servant to the Duke of Milan, shipwrecked on the shore of a small island. No, this was not a scene from Act I of Shakespeare’s The Tempest. Chesterfield was in great danger, indeed mortal danger. He dreaded the approaching flurry and dark squall.

His mate, Kimana, burst into the room. “Chesterfield, you lazy shorebird! Wake up and hit the deck! Your snoring is horrifying! Are you trying to summon the Kraken? You sound like a foghorn! How can a little critter like a chipmunk make such noise? Snort and roar! And just look at yourself! Sprawled out on that padded deck chair, you look like the carcass of a walrus that some storm surge deposited on the cold shore of Labrador!” Chesterfield sat upon the edge of his chair. The lady of the manor continued, “Now, it’s three bells in the afternoon watch. I must go down to our café and take care of business there. Get your furry butt in gear, make our quarters orderly, ship shape and Bristol fashion, and complete your other chores.”

Lacking the fortitude to withstand Kimana’s fury, Chet got up and scurried about the room, picking up the shells of pistachios, peanuts, and sunflower seeds. Kimana left and set her course for the Picketwire Café. Chet quickly grew fatigued, so he returned tohis chair for another nap.

Chesterfield dreamt he was at the helm of his yacht Acorn, departing Corpus Christi Bay on the ebb tide. Early in the Morning Watch, clouds on the eastern horizon were just beginning to turn pink and orange with the approaching dawn. Acorn’s course would initially be to the southeast, dodging oil platforms, and then east for five days or so to the Florida Straits. From there, they would utilize the Florida Current to round the southern tip of the peninsula and then turn north for the passage between Florida and the Bahamas and on to where they would join the Gulf Stream. Then, it would be smooth sailing to Bermuda and a few days of shore leave. Chet had been impressed by the sight of the Alligator Reef Light, off Islamorada, in the Florida Keys.

After Bermuda, Acorn’s next destination was the harbor of Ponta Delgada in the Azores. In Chet’s dream, he was there for an instant, and then he was on the Douro River approaching Porto, Portugal. Porto (also known as ‘Oporto’) had been the home of the 15thCentury Prince Henry the Navigator, who had sponsored voyages of exploration. Suddenly, Acorn wassailing south along the Iberian coast, past the mouth of the Tagus, Cape St. Vincent, and Cape Trafalgar. South of the Strait of Gibraltar, Acorn reached the shores of Morocco.

Commodore Lord Chesterfield now dreamed he commanded a flotilla battling the corsairs of north Africa. In the waters off the distant shores of these foreign lands, these far corners of the world, he led a formidable force of sailors and marines, the “Hearts of Oak” of the Royal Navy as they sought honor and glory, gaining victory with sword and valor.

And then, Kimana arrived home. Uh-oh! Chet, you’re adrift upon the deep!