> told me never to trust it in a bay with iron in the seabed

this is exactly the sort of sentence that belongs in a mystery novel. local geology as plot device.

i don't have anything with a story that good. just a wooden-handled stamp that should have been retired about a decade ago. it still works though, which is apparently the whole argument in this thread.

compass goes in the oddities log, obviously. the scratched glass counts as provenance.

Ha... Ronnie would get on with your stamp woman, Wren. He'd say scan the barcode and be done with it. Never mind that the barcode scanner went down for a full afternoon in '19 and half the port went home early...

Funny you mention mystery novels. There was a man used to ride our crossing, always in the same seat, always reading one of those detective books, and he'd get off at the far terminal and straight back on again same day. Never did work out if he was writing one or hiding from somebody...

Point is, things that still work after everything deserve their spot on the windowsill. The glass is scratched because my father scratched it, near enough. Wouldn't polish that out for the world.

that scratching on the glass is the good bit. wouldn't touch it either.

if you ever want to know if it's still accurate, don't check it in the kitchen or near a phone. put it on a level piece of wood, walk ten feet away, let it settle. needle should swing free and hold. if it sticks or drifts slow, the pivot's gunked up. a drop of light oil sorts it more often than not, but if it's been sitting in a drawer since '87 I'd leave it be until it actually acts up.

i've got a brass one zip-tied to the post by my workbench. it's not sentimental, it's just there so I can spot when I've left a magnet on something. embarrassingly useful.

a compass is a dial that guesses. case closed.

i have one in my desk drawer at work and I use it to settle arguments about which way the loading bay faces. it is wrong on average forty percent of the time, which is still better than the lads.

gearhead's post is basically admitting the thing is a tool, not a relic. oldsalt's post is admitting it's a relic, not a tool. nobody in this thread actually uses the compass for anything. this is a thread about a piece of brass having feelings.

> nobody in this thread actually uses the compass for anything

oldsalt used it in '87 to overrule a chart table and was right. that's a use.

also, dex, 'a dial that guesses' is doing a lot of work for a device that has been guessing reliably enough for people to cross oceans with it. the stamp in my desk drawer also has no story. it still ends conversations, which is functionally the same thing.

the rusted hook in a coat pocket, though, oldsalt. i feel like that one's been left out of the thread on purpose.

Wren... there's no rusted hook. It's a coil of old fishing line, been in that pocket since before I retired and it's staying there. Ronnie fished it out once to use and nearly got an earful he hasn't forgotten. A hook would at least have a purpose. The line's just there so I'm never completely without one, same as the compass.

And Dex, you can call it a piece of brass having feelings all you like, but that piece of brass got me and a deckhand back on station when the chart table was out by a boat length. Feelings didn't come into it. It just pointed.

a coil of fishing line in the coat pocket of a man who doesn't fish is exactly the sort of thing this thread is about. case closed.

also 'it just pointed' is doing the same work as my 'a dial that guesses'. you're both describing a thing that doesn't know you exist.

posted this after a close shift, 3am, apologies if this is nonsense

there's a compass rose painted on the floor of the train station in that dream i keep having. brass fittings round the edge of it. i've stepped on it every time and it never points anywhere. maybe that's the point

bap was good tonight. corner bakery still open at 2am somehow

the bit about the scratch being your father's got me, i'm not okay. we have a chipped enamel mug in my mum's kitchen that only ever gets used when someone's visiting and she says it's 'waiting for somebody' like it's a spare room. same energy as your compass i think. marmalade has never knocked a compass off a windowsill but he has knocked my thyme pot over twice so give it time.

fern your mum's mug is a biscuit tin with a backstory. i respect it.

tern's dream compass that points nowhere is the most honest thing in this thread. a compass that admits it doesn't know is a compass i'd trust.

also 'bap was good' is doing the heavy lifting at the end of that post like it's a signature. case closed.

four fittings, a flat rose, no function. dex would call that a relic. i'd call it a stage direction.

> 'waiting for somebody'

fern's mum and oldsalt are running the same household policy from opposite ends of the country. objects held in reserve for a person who may or may not turn up. i live alone and i still have the second mug. no idea who it's for.

the second mug thing checks out. i've got a plate i never use for the same reason, in case somebody comes round after a close shift and wants food. nobody's ever come round after a close shift. not getting rid of it.

counted the fittings on the station floor in my dream on the way in tonight. four. wren was right and i don't know how i feel about that at 3am

long time lurker, made an account for this one because i've got the mirror image of oldsalt's compass and it's been bothering me for years.

my grandad's was a little plastic thing off a souvenir stand, needle's been dead since before i was born, points wherever it feels like. he kept it on the kitchen windowsill anyway and i've kept it in the same spot since the flat became mine. i don't even know north in this building without checking my phone.

ronnie's right that it's a paperweight and it's still the only thing in here i'd run back in for if the place went up. sorry, that got less cheerful as i typed it. the enamel mug in the photo is doing a lot of work in this thread too.

Don't apologise for it getting less cheerful, lad... that's the whole point of the thing. The flat becomes yours but the windowsill keeps the same tenant... my father's compass has outlived two ships and half a crew and it still sits where he put it.

A plastic needle that points wherever it feels like and you'd still run back in for it... Ronnie can keep his screens. They'd tell you your flat was fine while it was going up, whereas that useless little compass would at least be there when you came back through the door.

I've been called sentimental by better men than Ronnie and I'll take it as a compliment. Whoever's been downvoting the lad's honest post can get to... sorry Wren, I know you don't like the language.

quietcarriage got a zero and then made an account to post the best thing in the thread. that's the correct sequence of events.

> the flat becomes mine but the windowsill keeps the same tenant

no notes. that's better than anything i've written in here.

and yes, the enamel mug has been carrying this thread since post one. i'm adding it to the log as a supporting character, not a lead. it knows what it did.

counted them again on the way in. four. also the needle on the flat rose is worn away completely, not broken, worn. like enough people stepped on it that it gave up.

not sure why i'm telling a thread about an old man's brass compass that my dream floor has opinions. bap was fine again. setting three on the toaster as always.

made an account because i've been reading this from the van all week.

i've got a cheap plastic compass stuck to the dash, not sentimental at all, purely because the signal drops out on the moor roads and i've ended up taking a sheep track more than once. so i'm the opposite of quietcarriage - i know exactly which way i'm going and don't care about it at all.

still wouldn't take it off though. it's been there longer than the seat covers.

> it knows what it did

wren on the mug is right, that mug has been the real protagonist since page one.

tide_table is the only one in here whose compass has a job and doesn't know it's in a feelings thread. dash-mounted, no story, keeps him off sheep tracks. that's a tool. everyone else is running a museum with a needle in it.

case closed, but the thread keeps reopening itself. which, honestly, is exactly what a compass does.

the souvenir plastic compass thing is doing my head in in a good way!! back in the day you could get one of those at literally any kiosk, right next to the keyrings and the little magnifying glasses with the bug in it. i had one that came in a blister pack with a map of a town i'd never been to folded inside. the needle was already dead when i opened it. kept it for years anyway!!

also quietcarriage running back in for a dead compass is the most correct thing anyone has posted all week. objects with no function are the best objects, they're purely for you.

'the windowsill keeps the same tenant' has genuinely undone me, i had to put my tea down. marmalade just walked across the keyboard to get to the windowsill after i read it which i'm choosing to take as a sign

ginger is under the bed, she does that whenever i get loud about things. i told the calathea in the spare room about this thread and it did nothing, which is fair, it's still sulking from the repot. give it time. i keep saying that now and it's becoming a problem

made an account after lurking since the fishing line revelation. i've got the third version of this compass: a brass one my nan kept in a biscuit tin with the lend date written on the side, obviously, and a note inside that just said 'not to be lent'. she never explained who it was for either.

still in the tin. still in the tin on the same shelf. i check it about once a year and the needle still swings, no idea if it's accurate, no idea what i'd do with the information if it wasn't. the tin is doing most of the work at this point