3.5 stars
For a very short book—175 pages of text, and they’re small pages—this little work of history packs in a decent amount of information. It’s about the centuries-long quest to discover an accurate way of measuring longitude at sea, and particularly the 18th century British solutions.
With the right instruments and calculations, latitude is fairly easy to determine from the position of the sun and stars; people have been doing that for millennia. Longitude is much harder, because everyone at the same latitude sees the same sun and stars, just at different times of day. Essentially, the earth is a giant clock—so, without satellites, how to figure where on it you are, especially at sea without landmarks? For centuries, thinkers have understood that the answer was measuring time, and eventually two possible solutions emerged. One was observing a celestial event (Galileo chose the eclipses of the moons of Jupiter) and comparing the local time at which it occurs to the time calculated in an almanac at which it will occur at some known location. The other was comparing your local time, determined through the angle of the sun, to the time at some known location, from which you can calculate the degree of difference between the two places. Unfortunately, up through the 18th century, there were no sufficiently accurate instruments to use either of these methods at sea, resulting in great loss of life when navigators didn’t know where they were. (Not helped, in the British fleet, by an apparent rule prohibiting common seamen from keeping tabs on the navigation themselves. One brave soul came forward with his calculations in an attempt to avert a disaster and was promptly hanged for mutiny, his warning ignored; the fleet then foundered and most of the crew died.)
The book summarizes the situation and the journey of 18th century clockmaker John Harrison to building timepieces that could keep sufficiently accurate time (despite the jostling, temperature and humidity changes, etc., that had doomed prior sea clocks) to allow ships to find their way. It’s readable and interesting, and I certainly learned a lot about early clocks and watches and the mathematics of navigation, as well as some fun tidbits on a variety of other topics. There’s also a lot about the jostling for position among the various men who wanted to claim credit (and a large financial reward) for solving the longitude problem.
On the other hand, the book is quite brief, and the author seems overly enamored of Harrison, though she doesn’t actually refer to him as a “lone genius” as stated in the subtitle (he seems to have collaborated as much as anyone else at the time, when there was less apparent need for lab assistants than today). It seems odd that she never addresses what appears to me the reason most people won’t have heard of Harrison: in the sciences we tend to lionize those who came up with big ideas, rather than the hands-on technicians who made them work. And Harrison was an instrument maker, very much a hands-on technician; his wasn’t a conceptual breakthrough but a technical one.
Overall, a perfectly adequate book, though not to my mind a remarkable one. But if you’re interested, it’s worth taking a look as it certainly won’t take long to read.