When I was an instructor at Naval Officer Candidate School in Newport, RI, I was assigned to the Navigation Dept. It was a very satisfying tour of duty for me, since I’d had experience in that field, liked it, and thought myself [ego aside] to be an excellent Navigator... and, as I quickly discovered, I also enjoyed teaching, and developed a flair for motivating my students.

Anyway, I was called by the Commanding Officer one day, and presented with a problem: one of the traditions at the school was for the graduating class members to chip in and present the school with a gift. The latest was a sundial (nice, too — brass, globe-type, larger than basketball size, and mounted on a marble-like pedestal). It had been permanently affixed in a suitable spot near the dormitory, and was easily seen and accessible by all passers-by. The question posed to me was, how do you "set the time" on one of these? I replied that I had no experience with these instruments, but that I would find out. I immediately asked my colleagues in the Department, other naval officers and Quartermaster Chief Petty Officers. No one had a clue. So I just sat down and thought it through, within a few minutes, based on my knowledge of celestial mechanics. I decided that the axis of the sundial would have to parallel that of the Earth. But how to do that? Earth’s axis is pointed at the Pole Star... Eureka — go out to the sundial after dark, and point the axis at Polaris! — then tighten up the screws, and recheck at various times.

It "worked," of course. I made the screws even tighter, then applied a sealer to prevent tampering. That afternoon I informed the C.O. that I had figured it out and had already made the necessary adjustments. He thanked me. Next day I received a call — he said he’d checked the sundial several times during the day and all was in order... he was very pleased.

Now this was a quirky guy — a full Navy Captain, mind you... his driver mentioned to me that as they rode around the grounds, he would often halt near the sundial site, jump out, and compare the time with that on his wristwatch. It never lost a minute! He even called me again after a month to say how happy he was with the "results."

A few months later, I get another call from the C.O., saying that the time was off!! My first thought was that someone had tinkered with it. I immediately checked and saw that, indeed, it was no longer accurate, but that my settings were intact. I checked again the next day, and sure enough, there was an error — a little thinking about it brought me to the conclusion that since we had gone to Daylight Savings Time, that naturally our clock time would no longer coincide with the time at our meridian (local solar time). I called to explain that no adjustment would solve the problem... if I set it for correct time in the morning, the afternoon readings would be wacky, and vice versa. One would just have to take the extra hour into account when viewing the time on the sundial.

Well, this was not to his liking — surely, SOMETHING could be done to make it "accurate!" Every few weeks, throughout the summer, he called to inform me that the sundial was still not displaying the correct time. After failing to get through with my explanations a few times, I gave up, said, "Yes sir!" and (of course) did nothing, since nothing COULD be done. I wanted to remind him that this was, above all, an ornamental device, but Lieutenants didn’t say those kind of things to annoyed Captains. The seasons advanced, and one day (after returning to Standard Time), the C.O. called me with some measure of joyous excitement in his voice. He’d checked the sundial for the last consecutive three days, at various times, and it was now back to providing good time!! I was back on his "good guy" list!

As it turned out, I was transferred to a ship in Hawaii before the next Spring, so didn’t think about what might have happened after that.

Next time I was in Newport, some twenty years later and now retired, I drove around the base, with some nostalgia, reacquainting myself with the grounds. I spotted the long-forgotten sundial, and decided to have a look. I was amused and mildly annoyed; all pretext of keeping the sundial functional was gone. Someone had readjusted the movable axis so that it now pointed vertically. No usefulness as a timepiece. Sigh! Someone did shine the brass, though (Navy types love to polish brass!), so it wasn’t completely forgotten.

I had occasion to mention this to a QM CPO I happened upon the next day, who coincidently was a Navigation instructor, as I had been many years before. I told him the story. He said he’d put things right.

I wonder if, after I had left the area for my duty station, when Daylight Savings Time had rolled around again, the C.O. had again become exasperated by this damned unreliable sundial, and had had someone attempt to adjust it; then meeting with no success, did he order that it become simply a symmetric objet d’art (after all, the 42 degree tilt was not all that aesthetic!)?

Wonder if it’s aligned today? If anyone has occasion to visit OCS, please check it out and let me know! It’s in front of Oliver Hazard Perry Hall, which, coincidently, I also got to name. But that’s another story...