Pi spends hours studying the survival manual’s navigation section, but the advice assumes the reader is an experienced sailor with tools and knowledge Pi does not have. The manual offers instructions like remembering to wind a watch and measuring latitude, but Pi lacks even the basics to apply them.

Pi realizes his watch sank with the Tsimtsum, and his understanding of the sea is limited to marine life, not winds, currents, or reading the night sky. Although Pi has felt awe under stars, Pi cannot use them as a practical map because their motion confuses him and he knows no constellations.

Pi abandons navigation as pointless because he cannot control the lifeboat’s direction: he has no rudder, sails, or motor, and his oars and strength are insufficient. Even choosing a destination feels impossible, since every direction—west, east, north, or south—seems equally risky and uncertain.

Pi accepts that he will drift wherever wind and current take him, letting “time become distance” in the ordinary human sense rather than a navigational one. Much later, Pi learns the route was narrow and specific: the Pacific equatorial countercurrent.