1873. Sail the clipper GLM Zephyr eastabout around the world.
Outfit a clipper ship in London and race the seasons eastabout: Funchal, Cape Town, Hobart, Cape Horn, Rio, home. Wind is the only engine, water is the shortest leash, and scurvy is dysentery's heir.
The Oregon Trail formula recut for the age of sail. The twist that makes it work: you can't buy progress. Every day the wind belts decide your pace. Ride the trade winds, survive the doldrums' calms and rain squalls, and streak east in the Roaring Forties at 300+ miles a day while the rigging grinds down. Your sail plan (reefed / steady / full canvas) trades speed against canvas wear and squall risk every single day.
Water is the hard wall: 1,200 gallons, dry casks kill within days. Scurvy runs on an honest vitamin-C clock. Lime juice rations freeze it, fresh fruit in port cures it, neglect costs the crew. Cape Horn is the set-piece: drive through, wait three days for a weather window, or stand away south among the bergs. Six ports, shifting cargo markets, a reaction-timing squall minigame, and a burial-at-sea ledger. 127 days is a passage for the gods.