My times reading and engaging in intercourse with Captain were relaxing, analeptic and therapeutic, but they also caused me to crave relief of pent desire. I soon learnt to prepare pieces of cotton before bed, one damped and one dry, so I could clean after and not awake sticky.

One evening, as dusk approached, Captain invited me to accompany him up the steps to the quarterdeck, and there, he showed me a brass instrument. An astrolabe, he called it, and he explained its purpose, "On clear evenings, such as this, when we can see both the horizon and the arrival of the brightest stars, we use this to measure our latitude."

I nodded, and after marvelling at the mutating reds and oranges in the west, I scanned the darkening sky overhead. "But I see no stars, Sir."

"Not yet, Boy. And this is why it is best to arrive early to accomplish this. The moment is rather fleeting, with only a minute or two allowing both horizon and stars to be seen at once. As the sky darkens, the brightest will appear first, and then we look north to find Polaris, the Pole Star. With our present latitude, we will see it about two hands above the horizon."

"And when we find it?"

"We lift this to our eye, point this at the horizon and adjust this to sight the star through these pinnules. The angle on this scale is our latitude."

I nodded in understanding. "And if we sail all the way to the pole, the star would be directly overhead." Then I tilted my head, smiling at the realisation. "But if we sail south to the Equator, the star would be at the horizon."

"Indeed, Boy. It delights me to see you understand this so easily."

"Thank you, Sir." I shrugged. "But I admit to having started into one of your navigational books, though I have not as yet arrived beyond the theory."

"Comprehending the theory is the difficult part for most, and you have done that. Making effective use of it is the simple part."

This warmed me, and as we scanned the sky, I noted the pale half-moon high overhead. A week until I am revisited. Then together, we spotted the first star and turned as one toward the starboard rail to search for Polaris.

It was not half a minute before the Pole Star appeared, and I watched while Captain held the astrolabe to his eye, and swaying to counter the motion of Zeelandia, adjusted the scale. He lowered it and read the angle. "Still fine, Boy. Near a quarter above thirteen degrees."

"It would be possible to also do this in the morning, before sunrise, would it not?"

"Indeed, Boy" He chuckled. "But I prefer to have my watch officers shoot the sight at that hour to not disturb my sleep."

I warmed as I thought of lying with him in his bed, and his not wanting to leave. Then back in the present, I asked, "The book mentions using the noon sun to determine latitude. How do you accomplish this? The sun is blinding to look into."

"A fine question, Boy. We use its shadow with a different instrument, and if the morrow noon is clear, I will show you."

"But this is all to determine latitude, and we cannot know longitude except by guess. It puzzles me how we arrive at sufficiently intelligent guesses."

Captain pointed to the aft rail and the two men there. "They measure our speed through the water by means of a line with a small weighted log on its end. The weight is just sufficient to sink the log, so it remains in the water and does not skip across the surface, and this pulls the line off the reel as we move."

He motioned, and I accompanied him to the rail as he continued, "That man has a one-minute sandglass, and the other counts the knots in the line as they roll off the reel. The number of knots in one minute is our speed in sea miles sailed each hour."

I nodded, half comprehending, then puzzled, I asked, "How is this possible?"

"There are sixty sea miles in one degree of latitude, and each is about six thousand feet in length. The line is knotted at intervals of one hundred feet, and if ten knots pass through the counter's hands in a minute, that would be a thousand feet travelled. Factored by sixty minutes in an hour, this would be sixty thousand feet, which is ten sea miles by the hour."

"Aha! And this is why the speed is called knots." I smiled up into his beaming face as he gazed down at me.

"Exactly, Boy. And the distance is called a nautical mile to distinguish it from a land mile."

"So, the speed is not a guess, then; rather, it is measured."

"It is. But there are ocean currents which speed or slow us or move us to one side or the other. We are moving in a moving body."

He pointed forward and led me toward the helm as he continued, "We record the course being steered with this transit board. That man steers the ship to keep the compass pointing where he has been ordered. And that man watches the sandglasses, turning them when they run out each half-hour and four hours. Then he rings the bell and places a peg in the next hole."

"And the line of pegs shows what course we have followed."

"Excellent, Boy. But as with speed, the course is also, at best, an estimate. It is affected by the helmsman's accuracy in steering and by whatever sideward drift there might be from wind and current."

Captain guided me toward the hatch which leads down into the great cabin, and we paused to watch the last glows of red in the western horizon, remaining silent as they faded. Then as we looked up at the dome of stars above us, I sensed a connection of spirits, and I trembled with my thoughts.

He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, and my trembling grew as his deep voice reverberated through the core of my being, "Yes, the cooling of the night has arrived."

"Would you hug me, Sir? I have not had an embrace, nor so much as a hand on my shoulder since Father departed."