Sailing by the Stars: Captain Goeran on Life at Sea Before GPS
- Goeran Persson
- Jun 19
- 3 min read
Captain Goeran Persson is part of the last generation of navigation officers relying on the sun and the stars — a sailor who began his life at sea before satellites, smartphones, and GPS. Trained in the late 1970s at the Merchant Marine Academy in Sweden, he learned navigation the traditional way: by the sun, the stars, and sheer seamanship. In a world where most people now sail with one eye on their chart plotter, Goeran still carries the wisdom and skills from a different time — and he’s happy to share that world with the guests aboard Quest.

Celestial Navigation: Reading the Sky
Back in 1979, I learned celestial navigation at the Merchant Marine Academy in Sweden. At the time, coastal waters in Europe were covered by Decca — an early electronic navigation system — and Loran-C in the U.S., which only worked up to 10–20 miles offshore. Beyond that, we relied solely on the sun and stars, and our sextant.
Using the sun was all about timing and calculation. You’d measure the sun’s altitude with the sextant and plot a line of position on the chart. Three to four hours later, you'd take another
sight and draw a second line. By dead reckoning — estimating your course and speed over those hours and then anything affecting our course and speed, like ocean currents and tidal currents etc. and with all that taken into calculation you put a dead reckoning position in the chart — you’d transfer the first line to meet the second. Where they crossed was your approximate position.
At noon, we’d take a special sight called the meridian passage, when the sun was at its highest point. This gave us our latitude exactly — a moment of precision in a method full of calculated uncertainty. Longitude, on the other hand, always had a small estimated error.
Stars were even more accurate, but harder to catch. Just before sunrise and just after sunset, there’s a short five-minute window — light enough to see the horizon, but dark enough to spot the stars. In that narrow twilight, a skilled navigator could take 6–7 star sights for a perfect fix.
So, the normal daily routine – the chief officer took the stars in the morning at twilight, and then the second officer took the sun during the day, and the chief officer took the stars again at twilight sunset. During the night until next sunrise we navigated by dead reckoning.
Back in the days, we had to do a little more thinking than the modern navigator needs to do today.

First Time Under the Stars
I still remember my first job as a young navigation officer. I was 23. They told us it would take around 2,000 observations with a sextant before you could really trust your own readings. It took time, and patience.
Apart from celestial navigation on the commercial ships, I’ve crossed the Atlantic four times with nothing but a sextant aboard my 34-foot sailboat. No electronics. Just the sea, the sky, and me.

Life at Sea in the Pre-Digital Era
Life at sea before the internet and satellites? In a word — better.
We had to rely on ourselves and our knowledge. Calculating the stability of container ships, maintaining the vessel, plotting our course — it was all on us. The chief officer knew every corner of the ship. Today, most of that’s managed from shore.
Weather updates came through shortwave radio in Morse code. Letters from home arrived via port agents. There was no distraction from notifications or timelines. We lived in the moment. Time felt slower, and the sense of independence was deep.
What We’ve Lost (and What Still Remains)
Modern sailors have many advantages. GPS, radar, and satellite communication have made the sea safer. But something has been lost too — a sense of personal confidence, a connection to nature, and the quiet thrill of plotting your course by the stars.
I still trust my own judgment completely. That’s something the old ways gave me — and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
On Quest, I love sharing these stories and skills with curious guests. If you want to learn how to navigate by the sun or understand what a sextant does, I’ll be glad to show you. It’s not just about nostalgia — it’s about keeping alive a deeper way of knowing the sea.

Comments