Summer Camp

Last week the old man had the opportunity to teach navigation to a group of teenagers.

This would be the ultimate nightmare for some people,  but the old bloke was excited on the way out and euphoric on his return.   He was also exhausted.

ENS is a 16 hour (two,  maybe three,  days) course,  but the officer in charge of the Sea Cadet’s Summer Camp wanted five days.   So the old duffer expanded the course.   And asked for a couple of boats to do some practical work.

The camp is held on a small island linked to the mainland by a causeway.   The small island is home to quite a lot of very senior Royal Navy people,  who carry lots of gold lace on their shoulders and caps.   It makes the volunteers with wavy lace feel a bit nervous,  and it makes the cadets feel very nervous.

The Leading Cadet in charge of the squad marching to and from lunch,  to and from the classroom,  to and from the accommodation ship became so nervous that he failed to salute several senior Royal Marines officers and,  on one occasion,  called “eyes right” when he knew he meant “eyes left”.   He was mortified,  as was one of his officers:  the other,  and the senior Naval people in question,  thought it hilarious.

Do we expect too much of our young people?   That a 15-year-old is in charge of a squad of marching cadets,  on a working Naval base,  under the eyes of Admirals,  is something to be applauded and congratulated.   A few mistakes are to be expected,  smiled at,  and gently corrected.   At least we can recognise their fears and help them overcome.

They are all (volunteers and cadets) housed in an old warship moored close to the island.

‘Housed’ is probably the wrong word:  it implies a degree of comfort and homeliness which the old,  stripped-out warship can’t offer.

The cadet’s quarters are cramped.   While upright and moving they are within a metre or so of other cadets all the time.   While asleep they could (if they could) reach out and link hands with two other cadets (three if they had three arms).   Privacy is available only in the heads:  a blessing not available to sailors in the Age of Sail.

The volunteers have better quarters.   The senior people have individual cabins;  the lesser people (which includes our ancient hero) have six to a cabin with lots of space.

It was unfortunate that half-way through the week a water pipe burst and no more hot water came from any of the taps.   It was even more unfortunate (though temporary) when the officer's heads became blocked.

The navigation course went surprisingly well.

Most of the class had hoped to be shooting,  or sailing,  or power-boating,  or windsurfing,  but,  instead,  they were in a classroom with desks,  chairs,  projectors and PowerPoint.   A bit like school,  really.

But,  after a noisy start,  they buckled down and enjoyed the chartwork.   It was new and fairly exciting.   It opened up a world they hadn’t thought about.   It showed that there was more to moving a boat around than just starting the engine and wiggling the tiller.   These were new skills;  useful skills with even the possibility of interesting careers.

The concept of pilotage;  that the navigator could not simply follow the buoys without a detailed plan;  was exciting and new.   Especially exciting because the plan being worked was for the harbour outside the window.

The Boat Station let them borrow two Champs (with all the appropriate paperwork and signatures,  of course) and the galley had provided bag meals.

What a wonderful evening,  and what a wonderful way to round off a great week.

GPS. Or is it GNSS?

One of the Coastal Skipper candidates muttered something about GPS satellites being in geosynchronous  orbits.   Another muttered something in reply about them being confined to equatorial orbits.

This arose from the realization that the variation of a magnetic compass would increase dramatically as one approached the Poles.   Unless,  of course,  one approached along a meridian which passed through the magnetic poles.   Even so,  the dip of a magnetic compass close to the poles would make it very inaccurate.

This led to a discussion that the use of Global Navigation Satellite Systems would be a better way to navigate close to the Poles (or indeed,  anywhere else!).

The LG (in this context,  a Lazy Sailor) was reminded of the time when he attended a five-day Astronavigation class which showed him that for the price of a decent sextant he could buy between 5 and 10 GPS instruments and that for the annual cost of tables he could buy all the batteries those instruments would ever need.

GNSS satellites are,  of course,  in geosynchronous orbits:  they pass over the same spot on the surface once every day or once every half day.   To do this they orbit at a precisely predetermined height at a predetermined speed.   Each has a different orbital angle to the Equator so that a constellation of satellites covers most of the Earth's surface most of the time.

Because the satellites are moving with respect to the receiving instrument the latter must constantly search for other,  more appropriately positioned,  satellites.

By contrast,  communications satellites are placed in geostationary orbits:  they 'hover' above the same point on the surface all the time so that directional antennae (TV dishes!) can remain fixed pointing in one direction.   These satellites orbit at the same speed that the Earth rotates,  and they do so above the Equator.

The LS has always been an advocate for paper charts.

Yes,  they get damp in the well of a small boat,  especially a dinghy,  but they can be enclosed in a waterproof case.

On a recent visit to Imray's offices Amy showed him their new-ish electronic charts on an iPad,  and they were a revelation.   They were,  in appearance,  scanned copies of the paper charts.   No more disappearing detail that is so annoying with vector charts.   Straightforward zoom by 'pinching' and tapping in the classic iPad way.  And when you need the detail charts,  simply zoom in to the detail charts.

The LS has always sailed away from teaching electronic navigation.   He's used the old mantra "better to practice with the machine on the boat",  which doesn't convince even he.

But now he has something sensible to teach.

As soon as he can persuade his iPad to communicate with his monitor and projector he'll use Imray Navigator.

He might even use it on the boat.