The year is 13,000 BC. The first human migrants to America are about to cross the land bridge between Eastern Russia and Alaska. The navigator seems a bit lost.
"You alright?" They ask him, waiting eagerly at the shore with a distant view of the new lands that awaited them.
"Yeah, I think so," the navigator replies, staring intently at some kind of primitive sundial-compass and peering with hand to brow at the distant mountains, the sun, and the sea, "I just need to get my Bering Strait."
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