Chapter twenty
Atlantic OceanThe Sally’s navigator stood by the rail. He positioned his sextant to his eye and peered into the telescope, his white beard and heavy jowls pressed to the instrument. He picked out the horizon on the horizon glass. He adjusted the index arm until the sun’s bright image reflected in the index glass and grazed the horizon line. He then read the altitude of the sun off the graduated arc.
Ben Woodson was doing what he did best, reducing the most difficult aspects of navigation down to the simplest of terms. The sun by day, the stars by night. The readings had to be exact. When it was cloudy, he went by compass. Cloud and fog together posed the biggest problem. Woodson was a patient, organized man, always seeking perfection. Denning did not demand it of Woodson.
