With apologies to Paul Simon. This striking photo showed up on
facebook Dec. 4, 2022. Credit deserved is credit given: it was credited to
David Jeřábek
but I could find little confirmed information about him, so that will have to do for now.The image led me to recall a moment on the big ocean, or rather a series of moments on a southwesterly course across the Pacific Ocean from Cape Flattery on the coast of Washington State to Honolulu, Hawaii.
Over the almost month-long voyage on a 44-foot sailboat I stood several night watches and in the course of them had the opportunity to observe the night sky without the mask of polluting artificial lighting associated with larger populations. Orion became my traveling companion, first observed off the port side as we sailed through the night. Those three stars on Orion’s belt so visible in the photograph rode my shoulder most of the way, at least in the early parts of the evenings and I made sure of where they were the minute I took over the helm I became so accustomed to Orion over my left shoulder that one night when we were hove to and riding out a storm with the bow pointed in the opposite direction from our course, the belt rose off to starboard and I swear I was disoriented for at least a day afterward.
There was another realization that seemed so obvious once I recognized it. You see, most of us who lead relatively stationary lives (as opposed to ocean voyagers) when we see the stars at night it is usually close to the same place and relatively close to the same time of day. As a result we unconsciously place them permanently at one particular spot in the night sky. There's something you're barely aware of, but have never observed. OMG the stars move too (or at least seem to as the Earth spins). Spend a couple of night watches and you realize the stars seem to take the same path as the sun and the moon, while the earth spins underneath them. Some nights at particular points I recognized Orion seemed to pass across in front of the mast and begin to dip toward the horizon on the starboard side. Because of positioning and distances I never saw it set as it more dissolved into the haze of dawn.
I’d like to say that was the beginning of a search for a broader understanding of space, but it wasn't. I was pleased with my discovery that the stars rose and set just like the sun and the moon and sailed on with Orion on the port side (for the most part). But every time I see it in the sky or in a photo, I feel a bit of the confidence and assurance of understanding I felt the night I realized its path across the canopy and the comfort of familiarity it affords all who travel under it.