I’m a northern boy and, while no expert, have known the stars of the northern sky since my days as a Boy Scout. The Big Dipper, Cassiopeia, Little Dipper, and of course The North Star. Many constellations take a lot of imagination to visualize, but these few stand out as if they have the dotted lines of star maps for me. Night after night I have glanced up and watched them rotate around the north sky. A little higher in the summer, a little lower in the winter.
I always knew that there were corresponding southern constellations in the southern sky that never rose above the horizon in Michigan. As winter approached, I would watch the southern sky for the rising of Orion with his distinctive belt. Finally, in the depths of winter the brightest star in the sky, Sirius would rise. The most famous constellation of the southern sky, the Southern Cross, is never visible in the north.
Last night I woke up after midnight (for a mission most guys past 50 will understand) and went up on deck to make sure all was sound and have a look around. As I scanned the horizon towards the south I saw just over the mountains of St John the distinctive pattern of the great Southern Cross. I was so excited I had to wake Mary up to show her too!
It was just a few stars, and I knew they were there, but the sight of them made me feel a kinship with the ancient sailors and know the thrill of moving slowly under the sphere of the sky and learning, using tools no greater than my own eyes, how far we have come in our little boat.