In 1632, when Samuel de Champlain wrote his Treatise on Seamanship, he had commanded vessels in the Caribbean, in the Arctic, on the rivers of Canada and on the Maine coast. He had crossed the Atlantic 26 times and was an accomplished map maker, artist and writer. His advice rings as true today as it did 300 years ago. Here are a few notes his bell struck with sympathetic vibrations in the 20th century.

“He [the skipper] should be robust, alert, with good sea legs [avoir le pied marin] inured to hardships and toil so that whatever betide he may manage to keep the deck and in a strong voice command everyone what to do.”

I sailed for a week with Captain Irving Johnson in YANKEE. Coming into crowded Newport harbor at night, he stood forward, commanding me at the wheel and the engineer at the controls. “Starboard a half … Port a point … slow reverse.” There was never any doubt then or ever about who was in command and what should be done.

“He should be the only one to speak lest contradictory orders, especially in doubtful situations, cause one maneuver to be mistaken for another.”

In a short ocean race aboard a sloop commanded by a committee we got a riding turn on the Genoa sheet so it could not be slacked, tacked quite unprepared, swung 270 degrees, gybed over, tore out the headstay fitting and retired from the race.

“He should not allow himself to be overcome by wine, for when a captain or mariner is a heavy drinker, it is not well to entrust him with command or control owing to accidents which may happen when he is sleeping like a pig….”

In all yachts in which I have sailed, offshore and coastwise, drinking was done over the anchor.

“… he should often have the space between the decks cleaned of the filth that accumulates there; for it often causes a stench and even fatal diseases.”

I remember with a crew of very small boys on a very small boat heaving out the hatch indiscriminately all clothes, moldy sneakers, wet bathing suits and accumulated impedimenta to be reclaimed and restowed by the astonished owners.

“He must prevent the men from smoking between decks, because a mere spark of fire is enough to burn everything.”

Captain Johnson prohibited smoking below aboard YANKEE perhaps as much for health and comfort as safety; but what is good enough for Captain Johnson is gospel for me.

(Deduced reckoning, usually called dead reckoning because usually dead wrong, is the estimate of one’s position deduced by applying course and distance sailed with allowance for current, leeway and careless helmsmanship to the previous unconfirmed position. It is the reason why navigation is said to be the art of coming to a correct conclusion on insufficient evidence.)

“The Dead reckoning that should be kept on sea voyages is very essential to navigation although it can never be altogether accurate … all on account of the obstinacy of certain navigators, who think they will lose face if held to be out of their reckoning and are unwilling to communicate with anybody for fear their mistakes may be discovered, wishing thereby to make one believe that they have some infallible method.”

Crossing the Bay of Fundy from Lurcher Shoal to Matinicus Rock, the skipper said no allowance should be made for the heavy tides. Simply draw a line across and mark off on it distance run. The tide comes; the tide goes. They cancel out. A celestial observation halfway across convinced an amateur that we were far to the south of the plotted line. In the foggy dawn the next morning, said amateur heard the horn on the Rock far to starboard and without orders altered the course to steer for it. When the Rock materialized out of a choking thick fog two hours later, without looking at the compass, the skipper re-stated his theory emphatically. The amateur made no comment.

“If sounds are to be had off one’s destination, one should begin to heave the lead a day earlier rather than a day later … and keep on heaving it every watch…. This is the way to avoid danger, for one cannot be too apprehensive of what one would not like to see, particularly since you cannot make that mistake twice.”

Twentieth century comment unnecessary.

“…One gets information before reaching land, whether by soundings, coasts, land birds, seaweed … fishes, change of weather or climate and many other marks known to navigators, which greatly relieve the pilot’s dependence on dead reckoning and afford great comfort. Indeed, if it were not for these marks and signs at sea, navigation would be much more perilous … that it is; for in a good ship there is nothing to fear but a lee shore and fire; that is why when … near shore one must be particularly careful to get one’s sleep more by day than at night and be on guard … so that when you arrive in a snug harbor, you may render thanks to God.”

That goes for coastwise navigation too. In the fog, the sound of surf and the sour smell of broken water tells of ledges to windward. A smell like a hen yard or of sweet fern, wild roses or spruce trees under a warm sun brings a message. Once the slam of a screen door and the voices of ladies talking in a kitchen told us we were close in. A greenness in the fog and a truculent voice, “This is private property. Get to hell out of here,” told of an imminent landfall on the back side of Cape Ann.

“In matters of this kind … great care and constant practice do a great deal for the safety both of the ship and those who sail in her. That is why good and truly experienced navigators and pilots should be sought out and encouraged by good pay to afford them the more encouragement in this art of navigation. This should be prized highly by every nation of the world on account of the great benefits and advantages that kingdoms and countries receive therefrom, however near or far removed they may be.”