reefs, upon one of which M orison believed the Santa Maria 

 had come to grief. 



Once on the heading from Picolet point, Ed engaged 

 the automatic pilot. Next he turned the switch on the 

 fathometer. The white chart showed no depth indication, 

 for the depth here was greater than the two hundred feet 

 it would record. He left it operating, however, so that he 

 would know the exact instant when Sea Diver reached 

 shallower water. He could then ascertain, from the depth 

 registered, our position in relation to the one hundred- 

 fathom line on the chart. 



I looked at the many other instruments which crowded 

 the wheelhouse — the Sea Scanar, which would record not 

 only the depth of water beneath us, but also, when set at 

 an angle, all underwater obstructions within nine hundred 

 feet in any direction; and the radar, which turned night 

 into day by registering upon its screen every object of any 

 size on the surface within a radius of twenty-five miles, 

 besides giving an accurate measurement of the distance 

 between Sea Diver and these objects. There was the loran, 

 which would fix our position electronically far at sea, when 

 no land was to be seen; the radio compass, which could 

 be tuned to locate the direction of radio stations within a 

 long range; and the radiotelephone, with which we could 

 call for help in case of trouble. 



And I thought of Columbus, starting out from Spain 

 with his three small sailing ships across unknown seas. 

 For his guidance he had had only a crude free-swinging 

 needle compass which oscillated so constantly that he 

 could only guess his exact direction, a sounding lead, and 

 perhaps an astrolabe to measure the angle of sun and stars, 

 although it is uncertain whether he was able to use this 

 instrument successfully until his later voyages. 



Perhaps most important of all to our safety, Sea Diver 

 was equipped with a powerful diesel engine with which we 



Search for the Santa Maria 177 



