My favorite of the many hybrid memoir/history sailing books I have been devouring lately, a meaningful and well written combination, with excellent use of historic explorations and direct quotes mingled with a more modern day adventure the author partakes of in his youth using a sextant.
There is mystery, and there is romanticizing. Mystery encompasses the journey that many sailors embarked on, and continue to do so, and were able to be mindful and observant of the deep beauty and depths of not only their journey, but the landscape. We have become such indoor people, and can barely stand the dark without fear, and many of us have never even seen the Milky Way; but our ancestors might have had some magnetite that allowed them to navigate their nomadic hunter gatherer routes like butterflies and homing pigeons. “Sextant” allows for a little bit of mystery, and a lot of gripping storytelling.
Before the HMS Beagle carried Darwin on his seminal travels, it travelled to Patagonia and its captain Robert FitzRoy writes of the navigational chart of a dangerous bay he wanted to anchor in, “the chart of it, with all its stars to mark the rocks, looks like a map of the heavens, rather than part of the earth.” I have been reading a lot of historical accounts of early navigation and exploration and that poetic description is utterly unique, and a perfect example of what makes “Sextant” inimitable and more lyrical than the others. With Darwin aboard, the Beagle sailed for 4 years to Tahiti and the Galapagos, New Zealand and Australia, Brazil and the Azores, and it seems to really sink in what that meant in that day and age. Ships had disappeared all the time, and each person on the ship must have felt like a modern day astronaut, ready to give their lives, just to know what was out there, a deep and abiding curiosity that is so beautiful in this day and age of cynicism and jadedness. I also know I would have liked history more if these details were teased out and presented next to rote memorization.
“The heavens have always fascinated people, and we have long looked to them for guidance, though we were not the first animals to do so. Many different species use the sun, moon, and stars to reach their destinations…The magnificent monarch butterfly, for example, relies on an internal sun compass to find its way at the end of every summer from the eastern United States south to the mountains of central Mexico, where vast numbers pass the winter clinging to trees. On a more modest scale, dung beetles have recently been shown to use the orientation of the Milky Way to help them roll food back to their nests by the shortest route, and honeybees use polarized sunlight to navigate to and from their hives on foraging trips. Mystery still surrounds the exact nature of the homing pigeon’s skills, but they seem to involved a magnetic sense, coupled with a kind of sun compass and the ability to hear low frequency sound, such as that produced by the breaking waves that mark the line of the coast. Some migrating birds rely on Polaris, and seals too can steer by the stars.”
The author spends a lot of time on the tale of Shackleton’s fated and failed trip for Antarctica on the Endurance and goes back and forth between Shackleton’s account and his chief navigator, Frank Worsley. It again contains delightful and unexpected language from harrowing circumstances that almost seems false: while taking sextant and chronometer readings, Worsley writes, “I knelt on the thwart-two men holding me up on either side. I brought the sun down to where the horizon ought to be and as the boat leapt frantically upward on the crest of a wave snapped a good guess at the altitude and yelled, Stop. Sir Ernest took the time and I worked out the result. Then the fun started! Our fingers were so cold that he had to interpret his wobbly figures...” Fun? They were staging a rescue of men they had left behind, and while all survived and the accounts were colored by the victory of survival, I wonder if it was dry British humor that called it “fun” and what really happened is lost to history. Worsley also writes of the immensity of the Southern Ocean and waves unimpeded by landmasses, “ the highest, broadest, and longest in the world, the swells race in their encircling course until they reach their birthplace again, and so reinforcing themselves sweep forward in fierce and haughty majesty, four hundred, a thousand yards, a mile apart in fine weather, silent and stately they pass along.” Yeah, that is what calls to me.
Of native Pacific islanders’ navigational talents, the author writes, “After a long and rigorous training, the native navigators carried in their heads a vast store of knowledge about the rising and the setting of the sun and stars, the seasonal behavior of winds, the relative positions of different islands, atolls, and reefs, and the effects of these on the deep ocean swells as well as on the local, wind-driven waves. They knew exactly where on the horizon each prominent star rose and set and used this information to maintain a constant course when sailing out of sight of land. They may well also have known which star would stand vertically above each important island (in its zenith) when it crossed that island’s meridian. This would have enabled them to determine when they were in the same latitude as the target island, though not whether they were to the east or west of it…. they made up for their inability to measure longitude by taking advantage of the distinctive patterns of waves and swells, which revealed to them the presence and the direction of land long before it was visible…of course, they also carefully observed the behavior of birds, the nature of the clouds, and changes in the color of the water. In fact, every sense was put to work; sometimes even the taste of the sea could help them fix their position. It was extraordinary skills like these that enabled people not only to settle nearly all the islands of the Pacific, but to develop and maintain a cohesive culture…”