The compass does not indicate the true north in all parts of the earth, the needle varying in the North Atlantic Ocean from thirty degrees east to nearly thirty degrees west. There is an imaginary line, extending in a north-westerly direction, through a point in the vicinity of Cape Lookout, called the magnetic meridian, on which there is no variation. East of this line the needle varies to the westward; and west of the line, to the eastward. These variations of the compass are marked on the chart, in different latitudes and longitudes, though they need to be occasionally corrected by observations, for they change slightly from year to year.
"Variation of twelve degrees," [1] repeated Foster, verifying the statement by an examination of the chart. That is equal to about one point, which, carried to the westward from east by north, will give the course east-north-east.
The process was repeated, and the same result being obtained, the first master reported the course to Mr. Fluxion, who had made the calculation himself, in the professors' cabin.
"Quartermaster, make the course east-north-east," said the first master, when his work had been duly approved by the instructor.
"East-north-east, sir!" replied the quartermaster, who was conning the wheel—that is, he was watching the compass, and seeing that the two wheelmen kept the ship on her course.
There were two other compasses on deck, one on the quarter-deck, and another forward of the mainmast which the officers on duty were required frequently to consult, in order that any negligence in one place might be discovered in another. The after cabin and the professors' cabin were also provided with "tell-tales," which are inverted compasses, suspended under the skylights, by which the officers and instructors below could observe the ship's course.
The log indicated that the ship was making six knots an hour, the rate being ascertained every two hours, and entered on the log-slate, to be used in making up the "dead reckoning." The Young America had taken her "departure," that is, left the last land to be seen, at half past three o'clock. At four, when the log was heaved, she had made three miles; at six, fifteen miles; at eight, the wind diminishing and the log indicating but four knots, only eight miles were to be added for the two hours' run, making twenty-three miles in all. The first sea day would end at twelve o'clock on the morrow, when the log-slate would indicate the total of nautical miles the ship had run after taking her departure. This is called her dead reckoning, which may be measured off on the chart, and should carry the vessel to the point indicated by the observations for latitude and longitude.
The wind was very light, and studding-sails were set alow and aloft. The ship only made her six knots as she pitched gently in the long swell of the ocean. The boys were still nominally under the order of "all hands on deck," but there was nothing for them to do, with the exception of the wheelmen, and they were gazing at the receding land behind them. They were taking their last view of the shores of their native land. Doubtless some of them were inclined to be sentimental, but most of them were thinking of the pleasant sights they were to see, and the exciting scenes in which they were to engage on the other side of the rolling ocean, and were as jolly as though earth had no sorrows for them.
The principal and the professors were pacing the quarter-deck, and doubtless some of them were wondering whether boys like the crew of the Young America could be induced to study and recite their lessons amid the excitement of crossing the Atlantic, and the din of the great commercial cities of the old world. The teachers were energetic men, and they were hopeful, at least, especially as study and discipline were the principal elements of the voyage, and each pupil's privileges were to depend upon his diligence and his good behavior. It would be almost impossible for a boy who wanted to go to Paris while the ship was lying at Havre, so far to neglect his duties as to forfeit the privilege of going. As these gentlemen have not been formally introduced, the "faculty" of the ship is here presented:—
Robert Lowington, Principal.
Rev. Thomas Agneau, Chaplain.
Dr. Edward B. Winstock, Surgeon.
INSTRUCTORS.
John Paradyme, A.M., Greek and Latin.
Richard Modelle, Reading and Grammar.
Charles C. Mapps, A.M., Geography and History.
James E. Fluxion, Mathematics.
Abraham Carboy, M.D., Chemistry and Nat. Phil.
Adolph Badois, French and German.