Noble Intentions

12. The Value of Knowledge

"Sails now gone, sir," came a call from aloft.

"Watch close where you had seen them. Continue reporting changes."

"Aye, sir. Watch close and report all changes."

"Did they sink, sir?" asked the helmsman.

I chuckled and pointed over the starboard rail. "In a way, lad. Observe the swell of the sea - we rise and fall about fifteen feet with it. At this distance, their sails show only when we are both lifted atop a crest at the same time. When we are not, they sink below our horizon."

"Is it the pirates chasing after us?"

"Possibly. But it might be a northbound ship taking advantage of the current."

"What if it's them?"

"Then, we must hope they do not sight us."

"What chance that, sir?"

"It is unlikely they will draw closer."

How do you know this, sir?"

"The lookout reported three masts, so he saw their side, and they are near our beam. If he had reported one mast, they would be a rare ship - or all their masts are aligned, showing the ship to be pointed toward us."

The lad nodded. "Or away from us."

"Nay, if away, the lookout would have sighted them earlier."

"How'd you know all this, sir?"

"Knowledge passed down by those with experience. But beyond that - instructed in ways to apply the knowledge to make sense of what is observed, to see the various possibilities, and to know how to determine if any of them offer danger."

He pointed over the starboard rail. "Is there danger in this, sir?"

"Only if the sails are more regularly sighted, and if they remain on the same bearing, and if they grow above the horizon."

"Oh!"

I checked the time on my watch and chalked it on the slate. Then, after I had further analysed possibilities, I returned to pondering our overall situation.

A long while later, a call came from aloft, "Sails, sir."

"Point them."

"On the beam, sir. Three masts. Now sinking."

"Thank you. Continue reporting all changes."

"Aye, sir. Report all changes."

I pulled out my watch and checked the slate. "That is the same ship."

The helmsman asked, "How do you know this, sir?"

"From the lookout's perch up the mast, the horizon is nine and a half miles, and with a telescope, the lookout sees anything his height and greater up to nine and a half miles beyond the horizon. Between the sightings was three-quarters of an hour, and the sails moved two points, which at that distance is about seven and a half miles. They are making about ten knots northward, three to five of that from the current; a typical speed for a heavily laden merchantman."

The helmsman chuckled. "You lost me after the first horizon, sir."

"Sorry. These calculations and conclusions are derived from some of the figures and formulas all watch officers must know. Among much else, we know the distance to the horizon, both from here and up the mast, and we know what distance is spanned by a compass point at the horizon from each location. Applying these, allows us to quickly analyse what we see."

"A lot to being an officer."

"Aye, lad. But it begins with understanding and experiencing the simpler tasks aboard - such as you now on the helm. I stood helm watches four years ago."