Put it in front of the people with authority

"You might be right about the scale of it. I have no opinion on the scale of it. What I have an opinion on is that this ship has a filed mission, a filed track, a filed budget, and a filed return date, and none of those things get amended because one man on my science deck had a feeling reading a weather advisory. You want that corridor looked at, you write it up, you send it through CICIMAR, and somebody with the authority to authorize a diversion authorizes one. That is not me. That has never been me. I get people to the points on this log and I get them home, and I do that by not deciding, on my own authority, at sea, that today's the day the plan changes because it feels urgent."

"It is urgent."

"Everything feels urgent to the man holding it." Solá said this without heat, which was, in his experience, the version of a warning most likely to actually be heard. "I'm not telling you you're wrong. I'm telling you this isn't how the decision gets made, and it isn't going to start being how it gets made today."

And what he does afterward:

He filed the advisory himself that night, properly, through the ship's own channel to CICIMAR, flagged for review, no diversion requested, no urgency claimed beyond what the original report itself contained. It was, he thought, the correct way to be taken seriously — not by insisting, but by putting the thing in front of people with the authority to act on it and letting the process decide what it was worth. If Heath was right, the corridor would still be there in a month, in a year, for someone with the proper authorization to go and look at it properly. If he wasn't, nothing would have been lost by waiting.