When European explorers first chanced upon the islands of Polynesia in the sixteenth century, they were confronted with a puzzle. These mariners from Spain, Holland, and England had themselves only recently developed the ability to cross the oceans and reach these remote islands. Yet on island after island in this unfathomably vast stretch of sea they found people already living there—people who lacked large ships, compasses, sextants, or any of the other devices vital to European oceanic expansion. How had the inhabitants first reached these remote islands when they appeared to lack the seafaring technology necessary for such voyages?
My grandparents would sit out on their lawn in Toquerville (at the foot of the pine Valley Mountains) and look up at the stars and sky. I would not say they were celestial navigators but they did have an awe of creation.
My grandparents would sit out on their lawn in Toquerville (at the foot of the pine Valley Mountains) and look up at the stars and sky. I would not say they were celestial navigators but they did have an awe of creation.
I really enjoyed reading this. A great history lesson and provocative metaphor of celestial navigation.