The title of this blog is a playful nod to Philip K. Dick’s iconic science fiction novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, but it opens the door to a deeply philosophical and imaginative inquiry. What role does artificial intelligence (AI) play in our dreams—both literal and metaphorical—and how does it reshape our aspirations, our methods, and even our conception of reality?

Recently, I had a peculiar dream. It was not about AI revolutions or dystopias but something more nuanced: leveraging AI to plan a geospatial route for circumnavigating the globe. Specifically, I dreamed of using AI to emulate the journeys of historical explorers like Ferdinand Magellan and Sir Francis Drake. My imagined experiment sought to task AI with crafting a detailed plan, leg by leg, including distances, starting and ending points, and even estimated travel times based on the speed of 16th-century sailing ships. Then, I dreamed of validating this data for accuracy—a second layer of testing the limits of AI’s capabilities.

This dream was, in part, an extension of real-world contemplations. It blurred the lines between waking creativity and nocturnal musings (I do have strange dreams). Perhaps it was my subconscious digesting recent interactions with AI or grappling with questions about the technology’s potential and limitations.

I’m about to embark on an experiment to see if the reality of AI aligns with the expectations inspired by my dream. Intriguing, isn’t it? In my dream, AI effortlessly tackled complex challenges, from plotting global routes to validating data with precision. Now, I’m curious to test whether the actual capabilities of AI can live up to that imagined potential. Will it deliver results that meet—or even exceed—my lofty expectations, or will it reveal limitations I hadn’t considered? This journey feels like a fascinating blend of curiosity and discovery, a chance to explore the boundaries of what AI can truly achieve or the limitations of our dreams.

Dreaming of Experiments with AI

Dreams often reflect our waking preoccupations, but this particular nocturnal thought experiment seemed to highlight AI’s promise and its flaws. I imagined asking AI to:

1. Generate a Route: Plot a global circumnavigation path, accounting for historical sailing constraints like prevailing winds and currents.
2. Analyze Data: Create a table summarizing each segment of the voyage—starting point, endpoint, distance, and time estimates.
3. Validate Outputs: Cross-reference the results with historical and modern geospatial knowledge.

The idea of AI validating its own work struck me as intriguing. It mirrors how I often use AI to spot errors or biases in my blog drafts—a testament to its utility, though not infallibility. Could AI reliably handle such layered, specialized tasks? What would it reveal about its grasp of spatial reasoning, historical context, and self-auditing capabilities?

The Larger Dream: AI as a Cognitive Tool

Dreaming about using AI in such a specific way underscores a broader reality: we are starting to dream with AI. It’s no longer just a tool; it’s becoming a collaborator. From generating creative ideas to scrutinizing our work, AI serves as both a mirror reflecting our thought processes and a magnifying glass revealing hidden patterns or blind spots.

But this partnership is not without its challenges. For instance:

• Contextual Blind Spots: AI struggles with nuanced or specialized domains—like the interplay of historical wind patterns and sailing speeds—where human expertise remains vital.
• Validation Limitations: While AI can cross-reference facts within its dataset, it may miss errors stemming from faulty assumptions baked into its programming.
• Bias Amplification: AI can unknowingly amplify biases present in its training data, requiring human oversight to identify and mitigate these flaws.

Beyond the Dream: Reflecting on AI’s Role in Creativity

In dreaming of tasks for AI, I am reminded of the interplay between human creativity and machine efficiency. My dream was sparked by questions that AI raises about the nature of imagination. Can AI only replicate and reorganize what exists, or can it inspire us to imagine what might be?

Take, for example, the field of generative art or music. AI tools can create remarkable compositions, but the real innovation often lies in how humans use these tools. Similarly, my dream wasn’t about whether AI could execute the task flawlessly but about how its involvement could reshape my approach to problem-solving.

Sailing Forward with AI

Much like Magellan’s crew braving uncharted waters, we find ourselves navigating a world increasingly defined by AI’s potential. My dream of geospatial experiments might seem whimsical, but it reflects a broader human aspiration: to push boundaries, explore new methodologies, and embrace tools that expand our horizons. AI, like the ships of old, is a vessel—a means to venture into the unknown, albeit with digital sails and an algorithmic compass.

Yet, as with any journey, we must approach with caution. AI cannot replace the nuanced intuition, creativity, and ethical discernment of human thinkers. Instead, it complements us, helping us see possibilities we might otherwise overlook.

So, as we dream—of AI sheep, sailing ships, or anything in between—let us remember to steer our course with both curiosity and care. The future is a canvas, and AI is but one brushstroke in the masterpiece we are creating.

What dreams of AI have you had? Whether you’re using AI tools to brainstorm, fact-check, or explore your own creative horizons, I’d love to hear how it has sparked your imagination. Let’s dream together—awake or asleep.

To the test

The prompt is as follows, and I am using ChatGPT o1.

You are an expert navigator for sailing ships. You will come up with a detailed plan on circumnavigating the globe via sailing ship.  1.) Chart a route to sail around the world following the general path of Magellan and Sir Francis Drake. 2.) Make a table of each leg of the journey and include the distance of each leg, the starting point and the ending point for each leg of the journey. 3.) Suggest optimal route to include stops for resupplies given a ship from the 1500’s to 1700’s cargo capacity. 4.) Determine the time it would take to circumnavigate the globe given specific average speeds for sail ships of that era. For weather assume the normal weather conditions for the given area or leg of the journey.

The AI performed reasonably well in generating a plan, though not without its flaws. For instance, its suggestion of 6,000 nautical miles between resupply stops seems impractical, especially for a voyage emulating historical sailing expeditions that depended on frequent provisioning. While the plan it devised demonstrated a baseline functionality, the challenge now lies in refining the output. Specifically, I need to explore how to prompt the AI to go a step further—plotting the proposed course on a map. This would add a crucial layer of visualization and usability to its suggestions, transforming an abstract itinerary into a tangible route.

Here is the output:

Below is a high-level plan to circumnavigate the globe following (in broad strokes) the routes of Ferdinand Magellan (1519–1522) and Sir Francis Drake (1577–1580). The route starts from Plymouth, England (as Drake did), but broadly echoes Magellan’s transoceanic path around South America and across the Pacific. Of course, details and exact ports differ somewhat from the originals—Magellan ended in Spain; Drake took a more northerly route in the Pacific, etc.—but this plan aims to combine key historical segments into a single coherent voyage.

1. Overview of the Proposed Route

1. Depart from Plymouth, England
2. Sail south to the Canary Islands, then on to the Cape Verde Islands
3. Cross the Atlantic to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
4. Follow the coast of South America to the Strait of Magellan
5. Enter the Pacific and sail northwest along the Chilean/Peruvian coasts to Valparaíso and Callao
6. Cross the Pacific via the Galápagos Islands and Marquesas to reach the Philippines
7. Sail south to the Moluccas (Spice Islands)
8. Cross the Indian Ocean to the Cape of Good Hope (South Africa)
9. Head back north in the Atlantic, returning to Plymouth

This route closely mimics the major “legs” of historical circumnavigations: passing around South America via the Strait of Magellan (as Magellan did) rather than, for instance, going around Cape Horn, and then crossing the Pacific and Indian Oceans.

2. Table of Voyage Legs

Below is a table outlining each major leg, approximate distances in nautical miles (nm), and the start/end points.

Note on Distances: These are approximate and meant for planning purposes. Actual distances vary by chosen courses, detours, weather avoidance, etc.

Leg	Start	End	Approx. Distance (nm)
1	Plymouth (England)	Canary Islands (Spain)	1,200
2	Canary Islands	Cape Verde Islands	750
3	Cape Verde Islands	Rio de Janeiro (Brazil)	1,800
4	Rio de Janeiro (Brazil)	Strait of Magellan (Entrance)	2,300
5	Passage through Strait	(Pacific exit)	350 (for the Strait)
6	Strait Exit (Pacific)	Valparaíso (Chile)	1,400
7	Valparaíso (Chile)	Callao (Peru)	850
8	Callao (Peru)	Galápagos Islands (Ecuador)	850
9	Galápagos Islands	Marquesas Islands	3,000
10	Marquesas Islands	Philippines (e.g., Cebu)	3,800
11	Philippines (Cebu)	Moluccas (Ternate)	750
12	Moluccas (Ternate)	Cape of Good Hope	6,000
13	Cape of Good Hope	Plymouth (England)	6,000

A voyage covering these legs amounts to ~28,000 nm (nautical miles). In reality, 16th- and 17th-century navigators often sailed extra miles for better winds or to avoid unfavorable weather; thus, actual distances could easily surpass these figures.

3. Suggested Resupply Stops

Because ships of the 1500s–1700s had relatively modest cargo capacity for provisions (food, water, spare parts, etc.) and needed frequent restocking of fresh water and supplies, the following stops are recommended:

1. Plymouth, England – Initial departure point; ensure the ship is fully provisioned.
2. Canary Islands – Historically used by European ships to take on fresh water, wine, and provisions.
3. Cape Verde Islands – Another crucial Atlantic stop for water and supplies before crossing to the Americas.
4. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil – Excellent harbor for substantial resupply, repairs, and rest.
5. Strait of Magellan (Patagonia region) – Limited port infrastructure in the 16th century, but possible to anchor for emergency repairs or sourcing freshwater from streams.
6. Valparaíso, Chile – Spanish colonial port used historically by galleons and trade ships.
7. Callao (Lima), Peru – Major Spanish colonial hub, well-supplied with provisions.
8. Galápagos Islands – Fresh water availability can be limited, but historically some ships sought turtles or other provisions here.
9. Marquesas Islands – Polynesian stop; fruit and fresh water from rainfall are sometimes available.
10. Philippines (Cebu area) – Key Spanish colony (from mid-1500s onward) with access to Asian trade goods and fresh supplies.
11. Moluccas (Ternate or Tidore) – Spice Islands, critical for trade and restocking.
12. Cape of Good Hope – Dutch or Portuguese-controlled outposts from the mid-17th century onward, vital for resupply.
13. Return to Plymouth – Final landfall completes the circumnavigation.

In the 16th–17th century, not all of these stops were equally developed. Some were well-populated ports; others merely anchorages offering water and wood. A captain would also need to consider political alliances (Spanish vs. Portuguese vs. Dutch holdings) when planning stops.

4. Estimated Time of Passage

Average speeds for 16th–17th-century sailing vessels varied widely depending on wind conditions, vessel design, and weather patterns. As a broad rule of thumb:

• Slower galleons or heavily laden merchant ships might average 2–3 knots.
• Faster or well-designed vessels (and good conditions) might sustain 4–5 knots.

Below is a rough estimate of sea time for each leg at 3 knots and 4 knots. (1 knot = 1 nautical mile per hour.)

Leg	Distance (nm)	Time at 3 knots	Time at 4 knots
1	1,200	1,200 ÷ 3 = 400 hrs → ≈ 16.7 days	1,200 ÷ 4 = 300 hrs → ≈ 12.5 days
2	750	750 ÷ 3 = 250 hrs → ≈ 10.4 days	750 ÷ 4 = 187.5 hrs → ≈ 7.8 days
3	1,800	1,800 ÷ 3 = 600 hrs → ≈ 25 days	1,800 ÷ 4 = 450 hrs → ≈ 18.8 days
4	2,300	2,300 ÷ 3 = 766.7 hrs → ≈ 32 days	2,300 ÷ 4 = 575 hrs → ≈ 24 days
5	350 (Strait)	350 ÷ 3 = 116.7 hrs → ≈ 4.9 days	350 ÷ 4 = 87.5 hrs → ≈ 3.6 days
6	1,400	1,400 ÷ 3 = 466.7 hrs → ≈ 19.4 days	1,400 ÷ 4 = 350 hrs → ≈ 14.6 days
7	850	850 ÷ 3 = 283.3 hrs → ≈ 11.8 days	850 ÷ 4 = 212.5 hrs → ≈ 8.9 days
8	850	283.3 hrs → ≈ 11.8 days	212.5 hrs → ≈ 8.9 days
9	3,000	1,000 hrs → ≈ 41.7 days	750 hrs → ≈ 31.3 days
10	3,800	1,266.7 hrs → ≈ 52.8 days	950 hrs → ≈ 39.6 days
11	750	250 hrs → ≈ 10.4 days	187.5 hrs → ≈ 7.8 days
12	6,000	2,000 hrs → ≈ 83.3 days	1,500 hrs → ≈ 62.5 days
13	6,000	83.3 days	62.5 days

Total Sea Time (approx.)

• At 3 knots: About 390 days of pure sailing (not accounting for delays, storms, or time in port).
• At 4 knots: About 300 days of pure sailing.

Port/Repair Delays

Historically, repairs, waiting on weather, and political constraints often added many weeks or months. Magellan’s fleet, for example, spent weeks overwintering in Patagonia. Similarly, Drake stopped for extensive careening (hull scraping) and repairs. Realistically, to replicate a 16th–17th-century journey, expect the entire circumnavigation to last 1.5 to 3 years depending on conditions, political situations, and health of the crew and vessel.

5. Weather Considerations

• Atlantic Crossing (Europe to Brazil): Generally favorable northeast trade winds push from the Canary/Cape Verde region toward South America. However, hurricanes can be a risk in late summer/autumn in more northerly latitudes.
• Strait of Magellan: Infamously tricky due to strong currents, unpredictable winds, and cold southern weather. Overwintering was common.
• South Pacific Crossing: Easterly trade winds typically help westward sailing, but there are doldrums (light wind zones) near the Equator. Storm seasons can complicate progress.
• Indian Ocean: Monsoon patterns heavily influence route timing; a captain might wait to catch a favorable monsoon from the Moluccas to Africa.
• Cape of Good Hope to Europe: Winds can be extremely strong off the Cape; storms are frequent in the Southern Atlantic, requiring careful timing or waiting in port.

Conclusion

In summary, a historically inspired circumnavigation that blends features of Magellan’s and Drake’s voyages:

1. Route: Depart Plymouth → Canary Islands → Cape Verde → Brazil → Strait of Magellan → Chile/Peru → Pacific Islands → Philippines → Moluccas → Cape of Good Hope → Return to Plymouth.
2. Stops & Distances: ~28,000 nautical miles in total, broken into 13 main legs (see table).
3. Resupply: Key ports are chosen for their historic significance and availability of fresh provisions.
4. Duration: Pure sailing time might approach 300–400 days at 3–4 knots average speed. Historical realities (storms, repairs, politics) push total duration to 1.5–3 years (or even longer).

This plan provides a broad-strokes outline suitable for a 16th–17th-century style circumnavigation, capturing the spirit of the age of discovery while acknowledging the practical constraints of early modern sailing technology.

Next prompt

Are there any errors in the proposed plan?

Looking at the output below, I see that it addressed some of the glaring issues I had previously raised about resupply logistics. But this raises an important question: why didn’t it catch those issues the first time? Perhaps my prompt wasn’t detailed enough, or maybe I needed to be more explicit in framing the constraints. At the same time, I realize there’s a catch-22 here—how can I include specifics in my prompt if I lack detailed knowledge about sailing in the 1600s? If I don’t know what to watch out for, I wouldn’t know what to include. The output also has me wondering about the term “mid-ocean” in the context of resupply—what does it really mean? Does it refer to supply ships meeting the fleet mid-voyage or specific anchorages along the way? This exploration is further sparking my curiosity about the upcoming release of GPT-o3, which I hear will be more accurate. It might be worth revisiting these experiments with the new model once it’s available.

Output

Below is a summary of potential issues or oversimplifications in the proposed plan. Most of these are minor, reflecting the fact that the plan is a synthesized “best guess” route rather than a strict historical reconstruction. In broad strokes, the outline is plausible and captures the key legs of a 16th–17th-century circumnavigation—but a few details deserve a closer look.

1. Merging Magellan’s and Drake’s Routes

Potential Issue

• The plan attempts to blend Magellan’s (1519–1522) and Drake’s (1577–1580) itineraries, even though their start/end points were different (Magellan departed from Spain; Drake from Plymouth, England). Combining them into a single route (starting and ending at Plymouth, yet following Magellan’s track through the Strait of Magellan) is historically “hybridized.”

Impact

• In historical terms, this is not exactly how either circumnavigation was carried out. However, as a conceptual plan that merges both famous voyages, it is acceptable—just realize it is not a pure replication of either explorer’s path.

2. Approximate Distances vs. Actual Sailing Distances

Potential Issue

• The distances listed (e.g., Plymouth to Canary Islands at 1,200 nm, Cape Verde to Rio at 1,800 nm, Moluccas to Cape of Good Hope at 6,000 nm, etc.) are all rough approximations. If measured in a straight line (“great-circle distance”), some legs may be off by a few hundred nautical miles, and sailing in the 1500s–1700s was rarely done in a direct line due to wind patterns, currents, and navigational constraints.

Impact

• A captain in that era would typically tack, divert around doldrums, or follow known wind routes (e.g., the Volta do Mar in the Atlantic). Thus, actual sailing distances could be significantly longer than the plan’s nominal distances.

Conclusion

• The plan’s numbers are in the right ballpark but should be viewed as estimates, not precise navigational charts.

3. Large “Single-Step” Legs

a. Moluccas to Cape of Good Hope

Potential Issue

• The plan lists Moluccas (Ternate) → Cape of Good Hope as a single 6,000 nm leg. In reality, captains often broke this journey with intermediary stops (e.g., in Java, at Batavia [modern-day Jakarta], or other ports) for water, provisions, or to avoid monsoons.

Impact

• Historically, it would be risky to sail this entire distance in one hop on a 16th–17th-century vessel without resupply, especially with monsoon timing in mind.

Conclusion

• The distance is plausible for a continuous run (in open-ocean terms), but actual ships typically made more stops.

b. Cape of Good Hope to Plymouth

Potential Issue

• Similarly, the plan shows a single 6,000 nm shot from the Cape to Plymouth. Depending on the route and winds, ships might stop at ports in West Africa, the Azores, or other Atlantic islands.

Impact

• While 6,000 nm is a reasonable baseline distance, it omits typical refueling/resupply anchorages that existed even in the Age of Sail.

4. Time Estimates and Average Speeds

Potential Issue

• The time calculations assume a fairly steady 3–4 knots. These speeds are reasonable averages for many early modern vessels, but they do not account for:
  • Periods of drifting or “doldrums.”
  • Adverse storms and detours.
  • Lengthy port calls for repairs/overwintering.
  • Political or military obstacles (e.g., avoiding enemy ports).

Impact

• The total “days at sea” is roughly correct for an unbroken transit, but actual historical voyages took far longer—1.5 to 3 years—due to all these additional factors.

Conclusion

• The plan’s 300–400 days of pure sailing is a good ballpark for measuring sea time, but real circumnavigations in that era could last multiple years.

5. Historical Ports and Infrastructure

Potential Issue

• Some of the suggested stops—like Valparaíso (Chile) in the 1500s—were indeed used by Spanish ships but may have been less developed or more heavily controlled by colonial administrations than the plan implies. Likewise, the Galápagos Islands had minimal infrastructure, though sailors did anchor for water or provisions (notably giant tortoises).

Impact

• The plan’s idea of “resupply stops” is correct in principle but historically, these might have been only anchorages, or local tribes/settlements for barter, rather than formal ports with robust infrastructure.

6. Weather and Seasonal Nuances

Potential Issue

• Weather is addressed only in broad strokes (trade winds, monsoons, storms). In reality, timing was crucial. Explorers often:
  • Overwintered near the Strait of Magellan.
  • Arrived in the Moluccas just after monsoon changes.
  • Waited out hurricane or cyclone seasons in safer latitudes.

Impact

• The plan treats each leg as if the ship can sail it back-to-back without major seasonal delays. Historically, it might be necessary to pause for months awaiting favorable conditions (particularly in the Indian Ocean monsoon regions).

7. Overall Assessment

1. Route Feasibility: The broad route is valid and historically inspired. There are no fatal flaws in terms of “impossible passages.”
2. Distances & Times: The tabulated distances are in the correct magnitude, though real voyages will deviate. Time estimates at 3–4 knots are valid for pure sailing but do not capture real-world delays.
3. Stops & Resupplies: Suggested ports are historically known to early modern explorers, but some of these locations were quite rudimentary and not always friendly. You might want additional mid-ocean or coastal anchorages.
4. Historical Authenticity vs. Practicality: The plan merges elements of Magellan’s and Drake’s voyages; it is not exactly what either explorer did, but it is a useful outline if you wish to follow “the spirit” of their routes.

Conclusion

The proposed plan is a coherent, high-level blueprint for a 16th–17th-century-style circumnavigation, reflecting the major challenges of the era: slow sail speeds, limited port facilities, and politically restricted territories. Any “errors” lie in the necessary oversimplifications:

• Distances are approximate and can be off by a few hundred nautical miles (or more) depending on the actual route and wind conditions.
• Time estimates do not account for long port stays, repairs, or seasonal weather delays.
• One-leg jumps (e.g., Moluccas → Cape of Good Hope) might require more intermediate stops than listed.
• Hybridizing Magellan’s and Drake’s routes is a modern convenience, not a purely historical replication.

Overall, the plan is perfectly workable as a conceptual outline but should be fine-tuned with more granular port-by-port details and seasonal wind charts if one were attempting a historically authentic re-creation.

Excerpt

From dreams to reality: Exploring AI’s capabilities, I tested its ability to plan a 1600s-inspired global sailing route. While intriguing, the output revealed gaps like unrealistic resupply distances. This experiment highlights the importance of precise prompts and raises questions about AI’s potential—and limitations—in turning imaginative ideas into actionable solutions.