Over decades, the clockmaker John Harrison developed the
marine chronometer allowing sailors to determine position at sea,
but his rival the Astronomer Royal Nevil Maskelyne conspired to
deny him recognition for this achievement.

You watch—it’s more than time you tell. You’ve taught
me how to spring ahead, though I fall back;
to wind against the wind by changing tack;
that bearings must be smooth; that seas are not;
that time and place are linked; that time and tide
may wait on man like stewards, if controlled;
that brass is more reliable than gold;
that it is better far to seize, than bide;
that fears of failure hasten and assure it:
they mask a line of fix, and leave one drifting,
while lifetimes slip away like sand grains sifting;
that enemies of progress think they’re for it,
but can’t forestall forever. Tooth by notch,
the gears—and years—advance—and you—you watch.

This poem is a finalist for Plough’s 2025 Rhina Espaillat Poetry Award.

Photograph by Tatters on Flickr. Used by permission.