'Carry On Mr. Bowditch'

Nathaniel Bowditch was born March 26, 1773 in Salem and moved to Danvers (now Wilson’s Square, Peabody) when he was an infant. He attended one of our early schools on Central Street, dreaming of becoming a ship’s captain. His family moved back to Salem when he was a boy.

His work on practical navigation was the best in the world and was used universally by American sailors. Difficult problems and the abstruse windings of mathematics were his passion. He authored “The American Practical Navigator,” which dramatically changed safety for sailors at sea.

"Carry on, Mr. Bowditch" by Jean Lee Latham is a Newbury Medal Award winning book (1956) that introduces readers to a young “Nat” Bowditch, who is forced to quit school and work as an indentured servant to a ship’s outfitter. After his indenture ends, he goes to sea and eventually invents new ways of calculating latitude and longitude. He also teaches math to the crews on the ships he sails.

Perhaps it is the 1950s literary style of "Carry on, Mr Bowditch" that dissuades students from reading about Bowditch; if so, it’s time for a new biography. He died one of the most remarkable men of his day, March 16, 1838, at age 65.

An ancient landmark, a pine tree that was significant in the minds of residents even after it disappeared, was located near where Bowditch spent his childhood. The townspeople said the tree was at his root.

The tree was described as having long arms stretched out near its top and as being deprived of branches below. It was “an old settler of the forest totally unlike any other tree around it” and its age was unknown. It was believed that it was a familiar object to those who came to the hanging tree in Salem to witness the execution of the witches in 1692.

In the 1700s, the giant pine tree fell to the earth. “That old pine tree is associated in our minds by many early recollections - not that we ever saw it, for it was gone long before our time - but its name remained,” reported the ­Danvers Courier.

“Its memory is cherished, embalmed in the hearts of our townsmen, it stood at a corner, at one of the outposts of our village. Everybody who knew anything, knew about the pine tree. It gave character and consequence to the neighborhood about it. Travelers were directed by it. Citizens venerated it and its fame become immortal!”

“We have said we never saw the pine tree, but in our boyhood, we had our designs of ambition and wished to stray into foreign parts and unknown regions. We had as great a longing to see the pine tree as ever had Columbus to see the New World. How did our little hearts beat and our eyes dance when under the paternal guidance, we had the promise of a ride to - aye - beyond the pine tree. It was only a place, a name, an immortal name and perhaps it is engraven all the deeper in our memory for the disappointment.”