Matters Maritime

With my erstwhile physician soon to be winging his way to the South Pacific; and, Bunny already in Morocco.  And with others whom I know planning to go or already en route to South Carolina and Florida; and lately having made the unwitting discovering on Country Life of balmy perspectives of the Caribbean, I presume you shall allow me a moment’s dispensation to isolate myself within the theatre of my mind. I have a limitless passion for the sea.  It colours my view of the world. It defines the limit of my artistic interests. It extends even as low as retail (the Chelsea Ship’s Bell or Rolex Yacht Master for example).

From my vantage, the sea has a native appeal. I find everything about it elemental. Though I haven’t an especial affiliation with travel upon the sea apart from having crossed the North Atlantic Ocean at two-months of age from Canada to England on RMS Queen Mary, I have nonetheless preserved within my imagination an historic though unsubstantiated acquaintance with the sea.  Blackbeard; Or, The Pirate of Roanoke by Benjamin Barker was a favourite of my youthful literary introductions.

A classic work about the infamous pirate Blackbeard, first published in 1847. Blackbeard was a notorious English pirate who had a short reign of terror in the Caribbean Sea between 1716 and 1718, during a period of time referred to as the Golden Age of Piracy.

The narrative explores themes of adventure, romance, and betrayal as the characters navigate their perilous encounters with the pirate. At the start of the tale, a party led by the Earl of Derwentwater lands on Trinidad to explore its natural beauty, only to encounter strange sounds and the foreboding presence of Blackbeard himself. As the group admires the island, discussions of beauty turn into tension when the pirate makes his entrance, ultimately capturing the characters in a web of danger. The opening chapters introduce key figures, including the Earl, his beautiful niece Mary Hamilton, and the curious Ellen Armstrong, setting the stage for their impending struggles against Blackbeard’s ruthless intentions. Ellen, who expresses fear about the mysterious nature of the island, becomes a pivotal character as the pirate’s motivations and familial ties come into play.

Where and when possible I surround myself with allusions to or memories of the sea. My preoccupation is so extensive as to include while at home the deception that I regard from our drawing room window the distant upriver views as though from the bridge of a ship. And when we travel to the barrier islands of the North American coastal waters, it is not uncommon to encounter among the interior decorations and exterior landscapes endless iterations of the maritime and nautical themes. It is of course a feature which insinuates our culinary interests as well. So many of my memorable occasions relate to the sea, whether while living in Nova Scotia or venturing abroad on the Irish Sea, the Baltic Sea, the Gulf of Bothnia, the North Pacific Ocean, the Greater Antilles or the Gulf of Mexico. I never tire of photographs or paintings of light houses and piers. And I shall forever recall the Saturday mornings spent in the car on the cliffs overlooking the rocky shore of the ocean at Lawrencetown near Halifax, Nova Scotia, sipping hot black coffee from a thermos while munching on crabmeat sandwiches. Nautical costumes; mooring ropes and knots; wooden launches; seaside resorts and restaurants. Anything to do with Cape Cod or Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard.  The idle hours spent in the sand dunes basking in the sun. The roar and splash of the sea.  The unparalleled shoreline collections of Sting Ray’s and jelly fish. The madness and toxicity of Key West, Florida.