The first day out, the engine room flooded because the automatic bilge pump wasn't working. The hand pump saved us and we discovered the rudder had been installed incorrectly. We anchored and jury-rigged the equipment well enough to get us to a port.

The next morning, the engine overheated, but we finally arrived at the port and got the boat ready for open ocean.With a renewed sense of confidence and a lovely sunset, we set out again.

We rounded Point Wilson Light only to find ourselves in 12-foot seas and gale-force winds. The sudden blow caught dozens of boaters off-guard and the radio was constant with mayday and rescue calls. Normally, we would have turned around and waited the storm out, but since we were taking blue water over the bow, turning the boat around was too dangerous. The only safe course was a harbour 10 miles ahead.

We eventually acclimated to the relentless pounding and bucking of the boat, but in the darkness the storm brought new trials.

The radar was useless because the seas were as high as anything it might see, and the windscreen was so caked with salt and spray that any light we saw was just a huge blur. Our course took us close to sandbars and shoal-infested islands, and while lights marked both the hazards and our course, in the storm it was difficult to tell which was which.

If we headed for the wrong light it would mean doom. It took us 14 hours to cover 10 horrible miles and arrive at the next port. After eight hours sleep and a few more repairs, we decided the boat wasn't ready for the open ocean. We would return to Tacoma and try again next year.

Where is the Mac in all this? Well, it ended up being the hero. When all else was crashing and sliding in the dark, my Titanium PowerBook was a rock-steady glow in the night.

Before leaving, I had loaded all the marine navigation charts we would need for our trip. So in the darkness of the storm, I had only to choose a point and then zoom in on it to find out all I needed to know - that yellow light flashing at five-second intervals bearing 050 degrees meant I was headed in the right direction. On the 15-inch screen, I could see where I was to within a few metres. I could also see where I was headed and where the hazards were.

Nothing else could give this reassuring data - not my eyes, not the paper charts, not the radar. My Mac, in its quiet steadfastness, demonstrated that occasionally virtual reality can be a little clearer and infinitely more useful than a chaotic reality.

I used handheld GPS units, both the Magellan Meridian Marine and Garmin GPSmap 76s, for acquiring satellite navigation data. These were patched into my Mac via the factory-supplied serial cables and serial-to-USB adapters. I preferred the Magellan unit because its installed charts were more detailed and it consistently gave more accurate speeds. Both units are comparably priced.

Both worked only in OS X Classic mode, although both companies plan to release OS X native versions soon. The only problem I had with either app was that to work at all, they needed the Classic drivers for the USB converter and to have the OS X drivers removed.

The digital charts I used were MapTech Digital Chartkits. I also used their paper ChartBooks. The ChartKits, which were the only charts that all of the mentioned applications could open, performed flawlessly. In addition to marine charts, the kits come with aerial photos of the harbours, topographical maps of the landmasses and pop-up info on navigation aids.

Upon my return, I discovered and had a chance to test GPSNavX (gpsnavx.osx downloads.com/html/download/ index.htm). It is more what I expected from a Mac navigation application; OS X native, fast and full-featured, it blows the Classic apps away with its ease of set-up and use. With two clicks you immediately know exactly what course to set, and at US$49, it is a bargain to boot.