Navigating by the stars

Two people on a ship's deck at nigh looking at stars.

I’m headed back to Polynesia for a crash course in Traditional Polynesian Voyaging and to document the life story of Master Navigator Teuatakiri (Tua) Pittman who has traveled over 60,000 nautical miles without charts, compass, or any of the instruments familiar to many of us. (Photo by Krista Rossow)

Here’s a sample from my first story on this subject: 

(You can find the full version here.)

When you begin to decode something as complex as the heavens, you must begin in simple terms. On deck, after sunset, Tua Pittman begins with the moon. 

“The round side of the moon always points to the sun,” he explains. Next, he pulls a green laser from his pocket and points out the Southern Cross. Then, we use the Big Dipper to find north and Mau’s star, milap, for due east.

These elegant lessons, and hundreds of others, combine to build the power and the practicality of Polynesian navigation. Tua, with white hair and a broad smile to match his broad shoulders, is one of seven living Master Navigators from the South Pacific. He is part of a movement that brought the art of Polynesian navigation back to life after colonization nearly stamped it out. On traditional double-hulled voyaging canoes, he has crossed entire oceans.

“Navigation is the ability to observe everything that is going on around you and combining that with knowledge,” Tua explains. There are between 150 and 200 stars to memorize, plus countless messages in the clouds, wind, and waves. The colours at sunrise, the birds flying by, the angle of the ocean swell all have something to tell you about your position. And one of the most important skills for a navigator is patience. “If you cannot see the stars, you wait,” he said, “Wait until you know where you are heading.” 

This summer, I traveled with Tua in French Polynesia from the Tuamotus to the Marquesas and back again. For thirty consecutive days, I looked up: at all hours, in all weather, sometimes napping on deck to wait for the next stars to rise. We were on a steel-hulled ship, not a voyaging canoe, yet the lessons transcended the vessel. Watch. Wait. A star will reveal itself and show you the way. 

Like the universe itself, the science and art of navigation expand into the unknown, balancing knowledge with mystery and requiring total commitment. It touches every aspect of a navigator’s life. As Tua’s teacher explained to him, “You are not just a navigator, you are the light of your community.” 

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