VIEW FROM THE HELM
Computers have changed how we think, as well as how we navigate. Using a satnav in your car all the time not only means you can’t remember the route you’ve driven so well, it also materially degrades your brain’s ability to remember, full stop. Our dependence on machines makes us less able to orientate ourselves in the real world.
Your phone, or chartplotter, sees a route as a transaction – the fastest way from A to B with a minimum of distraction – while for us humans, maps are more like stories. A series of landmarks, episodes and decisions that see us travel through landscapes and lifetimes, building a mental picture of where we’ve been and who we’ve become in the process.
The same is true at sea. Tell your chartplotter where you want to go, and it’ll automatically generate a safe route for you, taking account of hazards, tides and weather to navigate you along a precise line without deviation or hesitation. You hardly even have to touch the helm to get there.
Much like humans, however, yachts and their dependence on the wind are organic, malleable and imprecise. It’s what makes for such good yarns. No epic poems have yet been composed about journeys in self-driving cars, as far as I’m aware.
So ditch the route, as Justin Morton says (p38), and get your head out of the chartplotter. A few handy navigation tricks and a bit of forethought is all you need to dodge the hazards and know where the safe water is. Then you can look up, out and forward, anticipating where you’re going to b
